Frankly, I Could Use A Little Sugarcoating.

Roses. Wolf Mutts. Tributes. Frosted Dolphins. Friends. Mockingjays. Stylists. Me. Everything Screams In My Dreams Tonight.

As I Descend The Stairs, I Can’t Help Brushing My Fingers Along The Unblemished White Marble Walls. So Cold And Beautiful. Even In The Capitol, There’s Nothing To Match The Magnificence Of This Old Building. But There Is No Give To The Surface - Only My Flesh Yields, My Warmth Taken. Stone Conquers People Every Time.

The Question Is, What Are You Going To Do?" It Turns Out The Question That's Been Eating Away At Me Has Only Ever Had One Possible Answer. But It Took Peeta's Ploy For Me To Recognize It. What Am I Going To Do? I Take A Deep Breath. My Arms Rise Slightly - As If Recalling The Black-and-white Wings Cinna Gave Me - Then Come To Rest At My Sides. "i'm Going To Be The Mockingjay.

My Words Hang In The Air. I Look To The Screen, Hoping To See Them Recording Some Wave Of Reconciliation Going Through The Crowd. Instead I Watch Myself Get Shot On Television.

I Look Coolly In To The Blue Eyes Of The Person Who Is Now My Greatest Opponent, The Person Who Would Keep Me Alive At His Own Expense. And I Promise Myself I Will Defeat His Plan.