Sunrise on the Reaping

A fury rises up in me at the thought of Wyatt’s sacrifice and how the Capitol has pitted us tributes against one another in this poisonous beauty of an arena. The Games must end. Here. Now.

And all the money in the world won’t buy good taste. Clearly.

Although there’s not a miner in Twelve who doesn’t have a better physique than the people I witnessed in that crowd. All the surgery in the world won’t change that.”