Author: admin

DISTRICT 7 Boy Bircher Girl Autumn Boy Heartwood Girl Ringina DISTRICT 8 Boy Wefton Girl Notion Boy Ripman Girl Alawna DISTRICT 9 Boy >

Girl Chicory Boy Tile Girl Blossom DISTRICT 12 Boy Wyatt Girl Maysilee Boy Haymitch Girl Louella Forty-eight kids. Minus one. I will never remember all of their names. Doubt they will remember mine. There are just too many of us. A boy in electric-blue coveralls, about Sid’s size, comes up to me, his handcuffs jingling…

Ryan Girl Kerna Boy Clayton Girl Midge DISTRICT 10 Boy Buck Girl Lannie Boy Stamp Girl Peeler DISTRICT 11 Boy Hull >

“Got me beat there,” I have to admit. “And nobody tells them what to say. That bird is who I want to be when I grow up. Someone who says whatever they think is right, no matter what.” No matter what. That’s the part I’m worried about. That she might be saying something rash. Or…

We hightail it out of there and into the waiting van, which speeds through the Capitol streets, horn blaring. It’s not enough to drown out a booming version of the anthem, which they must be blasting out citywide. The Hunger Games opening ceremonies have begun without us. As the anthem ends, we screech to a…

My escape path leads me farther down the avenue toward the president’s mansion. Several of the chariots are pulled over along the parade route. It’s a clear shot to the mansion, but I’ll never make it. The Peacekeepers’ shouts get closer. Louella’s growing heavy. My toes blister in the tight boots. My chest aches and…

Boy Janus Girl Nona DISTRICT 3 Boy Ampert Girl Dio Boy Lect Girl Coil DISTRICT 4 Boy Urchin Girl Barba Boy Angler >

“Forty-one, minus the Booker Boy fee.” “Guess you are a long shot, for your pa to hold you so cheap,” I say. “Never pretended otherwise.” Wyatt turns and walks over to our van, one of the few still left in the stable. “Boy, that was mean, even by my standards,” Maysilee says to me. “You…

I recognize Juvenia, the District 1 escort who Drusilla sneered at, tentatively descending the train steps in snakeskin boots. Behind her come her four tributes, cuffed and chained together, towering over their Peacekeepers. When the car door shuts behind them, the boy bringing up the rear suddenly turns and kicks the window. The glass shatters…

Inside we’re told to strip, which is easy from the waist down but undoable above the belt with our cuffed hands. Peacekeepers come around and cut away our shirts with knives. If anyone objects, they laugh and say it’s all the same to the incinerator. It hurts watching them slice through Ma’s careful stitches. I…