Freedom. That's all I'm thinking about as I look at the boy with bread.
I want freedom. Freedom to laugh and cry. Freedom to love who I want. Freedom to make my own choices and be the person who I want to be. Most of all, freedom to live.
As I'm standing next to the cornocopia looking at the boy with the bread I realize something. Even if one of us wins, we won't be free. The Hunger Games will continue as more children are reaped and then slaughtered like pigs. The victor of this years games will have to come back to mentor the new children.
If we want freedom, we'll have to fight.
I take Peeta's hand in my own and pass him some nightlock. He knows what I'm doing, he unerstands what has to be done.
I stand next to him, holding the berries out for the cameras to see. This is the most opportune moment to start a revolution.
I take a deep breath and bring the berries up to my mouth.
This is when we start fighting for our freedom.
What do you think? Should I make it a story, or leave it at a one shot? Reveiw please.