Prim’s slip of paper from Gale’s POV.
We’re all just puppets waiting for the Capitol to take hold of out strings. Patient, compliant. No one around me moves, breathes. Everyone’s just thinking not my sister, not my girlfriend, not my best friend. Not Catnip. Maybe if we all just ripped the puppet strings from our backs and sent the cameras crashing to the ground, ripped down the screens. Maybe then we’d have a chance. Maybe then all this could stop. Maybe if we just don’t listen and -
No. Oh, no.
After the war it’s not Katniss that Gale sees when he closes his eyes. It’s not his Catnip that visits him night after night in colorful nightmares. The person he can’t stop thinking about is her sister. Wherever he goes, whatever he does he’s remembering her. The blonde hair, light eyes and fair skin. The little sound she’d make when he tickled her. And most of all he sees, hears, and feels to the very core of his body the moment when his bomb killed her.
so you have your cousins
and then you have your first cousins
and then you have your second cousins
and then you have
“Shoot me. That’s what he was mouthing. I was supposed to shoot him! That was my job. That was our unspoken promise, all of us, to one another. And I didn’t do it and now the Capitol will kill him or torture him or hijack him or – the cracks begin opening inside me, threatening to break me into pieces.”