Each Time I Wake,i Think, At Last,

Winning The Games Will Make You Famous, Losing Will Mean Death.

And She's My Fiancee. So If You Want To Get To Him, Expect To Go Through Both Of Us.

Peeta: You Be Nice To Her, Finnick. Or I Might Try And Take Her Away From You. Finnick: Oh, Peeta. Don't Make Me Sorry I Restarted Your Heart.

As The Alcohol Overcomes My Mind, I Hear The Glass Bottle Shatter On The Floor. This Seems Appropriate Since I Have Obviously Lost My Grip On Everything.

I'm Unaware That My Feet Are Moving To The Table Until I'm Inches From The Holograph. My Hand Reaches In And Cups A Rapidly Blinking Green Light. Someone Joins Me, His Body Tense. Finnick, Of Course. Because Only A Victor Would See What I See So Immediately. The Arena. Laced With Pods Controlled By Gamemakers. Finnick's Fingers Caress A Steady Red Glow Over A Doorway. "ladies And Gentlemen..." His Voice Is Quiet, But Mine Rings Through The Room. "let The Seventy-sixth Hunger Games Begin!