Sometimes, sparks can fly for the wrong reasons.
I hugged myself, trying not to spill any tears. Why I have to cry? I never cry before. I did not even cry when my father's gone. Why this was different? Sometimes I felt completely lost. And when I remembered why, I couldn't avoid myself to feel sad. To feel unloved.
I heard she was spark. I saw and I knew, she was spark, indeed. Spark that burnt myself down. Spark that hurted me. She is spark and her sparks are dangerous.
Or is it just me?
Her sparks worked well for Panem's people. Her sparks worked well for the revolution. Her sparks worked well for Peeta.
I hugged myself tighter, trying not to see the white-carved invitation card on the table. Katniss and Peeta's wedding.