“l want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I’m right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors.” The shock I’ve been feeling begins to give way to fury. “I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there’s a cease-fire, you’re deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do.” My hands go out automatically, as if to indicate the whole horror around me. “This is what they do! And we must fight back!”
The bird, the pin, the song, the berries, the watch, the cracker, the dress that burst into flames. I am the mockingjay. The one that survived despite the Capitol’s plans. The symbol of the rebellion.
My father. He seems to be everywhere today. Dying in the mine. Singing his way into Peeta’s muddled consciousness. Flickering in the look Boggs gives me as he protectively wraps the blanket around my shoulders. I miss him so badly it hurts.
"I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there’s no relief in waking." inspired by x
GET TO KNOW ME MEME: 5 favourite female characters [3/5]
↳ Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games Trilogy)
“At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it.”
Remember, girl on fire, I’m still betting on you.
quotes i wish were in the movie
Peeta’s beside me dressed in an outfit identical to mine. “What did Finnick Odair want?” he ask.
I turn and put my lips close to Peeta’s and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say in my best seductive voice.
Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.”
“Really,” I say. “I’ll tell you more when my skin stops crawling.”
“Do you think we’d have ended up like this if only one of us had won,” he ask, glancing around at the other victors. “Just another part of the freak show?”
“Sure. Especially you,” I say.
“Oh. and why especially me?” he says with a smile.
“Because you have a weakness for beautiful things and I don’t,” I say with an air of superiority. “They would lure you into their Capital ways and you’d be lost entirely.”
”Having an eye for beauty isn’t the same thing as weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.”
"Prim!" I rip through a wall of green into a small clearing and the sound repeats directly above me. Above me? My head whips back. Do they have her up in the trees? I desperately search for the branches but see nothing. "Prim?" I say pleadingly. I hear her but can’t see her. Her next wail rings out, clear as a ball, and there’s no mistaking the source. It’s coming from the mouth of a small, crested black bird perched on a branch about three metres over my head. And then I understand.
It’s a jabberjay.