"You have a . . . remarkable memory," I say haltingly.
"I remember everything about you," says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You're the one who wasn't paying attention."
"I am now," I say.
I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now and live in it forever.
"It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you, he says. I'm okay once I realize you're here.
Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena.
You're punishing him over and over for things that are out of his control. Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't have a fully loaded weapon next to you round the clock. But I think it's time you flipped this little scenario in your head. If you'd been taken by the Capitol, and hijacked, and then tried to kill Peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?" demands Haymitch.
I fall silent. It isn't. It isn't how he would be treating me at all. He would be trying to get me back at any cost. Not shutting me out, abandoning me, greeting me with hostility at every turn.
The beauty of this idea is that my decision to keep Peeta alive at the expense of my own life is itself an act of defiance. A refusal to play the Hunger Games by the Capitol's rules. My private agenda dovetails completely with my public one. And if I really could save Peeta... in terms of a revolution, this would be ideal. Because I will be more valuable dead. They can turn me into some kind of martyr for the cause and paint my face on banners, and it will do more to rally people than anything I could do if I was living. But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people.
I think....you still have no idea. The effect you can have.
It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you, he says. I'm okay once I realize you're here.
Yeah, about that, says Peeta, entwining his fingers in mine. Dont try something like that again. Or what? I ask. Or . . . or . . . He cant think of anything good. Just give me a minute.
Hey, Effie, watch this!" says Peeta. He tosses his fork over his shoulder and literally licks his plate clean with his tongue making loud, satisfied sounds. Then he blows a kiss out to her in general and calls, "We miss you, Effie!
Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to
to show the Capitol they dont own me. That Im more than just a piece in their Games
But Peeta would be more valuable alive, and tragic, because he will be able to turn his pain into words that will transform people.
Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips.
"To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed."
Corrrect! wrote: »
Nakakaloka ang description niya sa book. Pero mas nakakaloka ang ending niya.