-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Сюзанна Коллинз
-
- Голодные игры
-
- Стр. 11/236
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
That
's
how
I
feel
now
,
trying
to
remember
how
to
breathe
,
unable
to
speak
,
totally
stunned
as
the
name
bounces
around
the
inside
of
my
skull
.
Someone
is
gripping
my
arm
,
a
boy
from
the
Seam
,
and
I
think
maybe
I
started
to
fall
and
he
caught
me
.
There
must
have
been
some
mistake
.
This
ca
n't
be
happening
.
Prim
was
one
slip
of
paper
in
thousands
!
Her
chances
of
being
chosen
so
remote
that
I
'd
not
even
bothered
to
worry
about
her
.
Had
n't
I
done
everything
?
Taken
the
tesserae
,
refused
to
let
her
do
the
same
?
One
slip
.
One
slip
in
thousands
.
The
odds
had
been
entirely
in
her
favor
.
But
it
had
n't
mattered
.
Somewhere
far
away
,
I
can
hear
the
crowd
murmuring
unhappily
as
they
always
do
when
a
twelve-year-old
gets
chosen
because
no
one
thinks
this
is
fair
.
And
then
I
see
her
,
the
blood
drained
from
her
face
,
hands
clenched
in
fists
at
her
sides
,
walking
with
stiff
,
small
steps
up
toward
the
stage
,
passing
me
,
and
I
see
the
back
of
her
blouse
has
become
untucked
and
hangs
out
over
her
skirt
.
It
's
this
detail
,
the
untucked
blouse
forming
a
ducktail
,
that
brings
me
back
to
myself
.
"
Prim
!
"
The
strangled
cry
comes
out
of
my
throat
,
and
my
muscles
begin
to
move
again
.
"
Prim
!
"
I
do
n't
need
to
shove
through
the
crowd
.
The
other
kids
make
way
immediately
allowing
me
a
straight
path
to
the
stage
.
I
reach
her
just
as
she
is
about
to
mount
the
steps
.
With
one
sweep
of
my
arm
,
I
push
her
behind
me
.
"
I
volunteer
!
"
I
gasp
.
"
I
volunteer
as
tribute
!
"
There
's
some
confusion
on
the
stage
.
District
12
has
n't
had
a
volunteer
in
decades
and
the
protocol
has
become
rusty
.
The
rule
is
that
once
a
tribute
's
name
has
been
pulled
from
the
ball
,
another
eligible
boy
,
if
a
boy
's
name
has
been
read
,
or
girl
,
if
a
girl
's
name
has
been
read
,
can
step
forward
to
take
his
or
her
place
.
In
some
districts
,
in
which
winning
the
reaping
is
such
a
great
honor
,
people
are
eager
to
risk
their
lives
,
the
volunteering
is
complicated
.
But
in
District
12
,
where
the
word
tribute
is
pretty
much
synonymous
with
the
word
corpse
,
volunteers
are
all
but
extinct
.
"
Lovely
!
"
says
Effie
Trinket
.
"
But
I
believe
there
's
a
small
matter
of
introducing
the
reaping
winner
and
then
asking
for
volunteers
,
and
if
one
does
come
forth
then
we
,
um
.
"
she
trails
off
,
unsure
herself
.
"
What
does
it
matter
?
"
says
the
mayor
.
He
's
looking
at
me
with
a
pained
expression
on
his
face
.
He
does
n't
know
me
really
,
but
there
's
a
faint
recognition
there
.
I
am
the
girl
who
brings
the
strawberries
.
The
girl
his
daughter
might
have
spoken
of
on
occasion
.
The
girl
who
five
years
ago
stood
huddled
with
her
mother
and
sister
,
as
he
presented
her
,
the
oldest
child
,
with
a
medal
of
valor
.
A
medal
for
her
father
,
vaporized
in
the
mines
.
Does
he
remember
that
?
"
What
does
it
matter
?
"
he
repeats
gruffly
.
"
Let
her
come
forward
.
"
Prim
is
screaming
hysterically
behind
me
.
She
's
wrapped
her
skinny
arms
around
me
like
a
vice
.
