Why do we do it? Why do we cherish those gut-wrenching moments when the heroes we love have their head on a chopping block? Is it because we know they'll make it? And the few times they don't, why do the most faithful of us cry our eyes out, or can't eat the next day? But, I'll tell you now. No one makes it here. Never. We never come back quite the same.
Are you, are you, coming to the tree?
Where they strung up a man,
They say he murdered three.
Strange things did happen here,
No stranger would it be,
If we met at midnight,
In the Hanging Tree.
-The Hunger Games