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- Сюзанна Коллинз
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In
late
summer
,
I
was
washing
up
in
a
pond
when
I
noticed
the
plants
growing
around
me
.
Tall
with
leaves
like
arrowheads
.
Blossoms
with
three
white
petals
.
I
knelt
down
in
the
water
,
my
fingers
digging
into
the
soft
mud
,
and
I
pulled
up
handfuls
of
the
roots
.
Small
,
bluish
tubers
that
do
n't
look
like
much
but
boiled
or
baked
are
as
good
as
any
potato
.
"
Katniss
,
"
I
said
aloud
.
It
's
the
plant
I
was
named
for
.
And
I
heard
my
father
's
voice
joking
,
"
As
long
as
you
can
find
yourself
,
you
'll
never
starve
.
"
I
spent
hours
stirring
up
the
pond
bed
with
my
toes
and
a
stick
,
gathering
the
tubers
that
floated
to
the
top
.
That
night
,
we
feasted
on
fish
and
katniss
roots
until
we
were
all
,
for
the
first
time
in
months
,
full
.
Slowly
,
my
mother
returned
to
us
.
She
began
to
clean
and
cook
and
preserve
some
of
the
food
I
brought
in
for
winter
.
People
traded
us
or
paid
money
for
her
medical
remedies
.
One
day
,
I
heard
her
singing
.
Prim
was
thrilled
to
have
her
back
,
but
I
kept
watching
,
waiting
for
her
to
disappear
on
us
again
.
I
did
n't
trust
her
.
And
some
small
gnarled
place
inside
me
hated
her
for
her
weakness
,
for
her
neglect
,
for
the
months
she
had
put
us
through
.
Prim
forgave
her
,
but
I
had
taken
a
step
back
from
my
mother
,
put
up
a
wall
to
protect
myself
from
needing
her
,
and
nothing
was
ever
the
same
between
us
again
.
Now
I
was
going
to
die
without
that
ever
being
set
right
.
I
thought
of
how
I
had
yelled
at
her
today
in
the
Justice
Building
.
I
had
told
her
I
loved
her
,
too
,
though
.
So
maybe
it
would
all
balance
out
.
For
a
while
I
stand
staring
out
the
train
window
,
wishing
I
could
open
it
again
,
but
unsure
of
what
would
happen
at
such
high
speed
.
In
the
distance
,
I
see
the
lights
of
another
district
.
7
?
10
?
I
do
n't
know
.
I
think
about
the
people
in
their
houses
,
settling
in
for
bed
.
I
imagine
my
home
,
with
its
shutters
drawn
tight
.
What
are
they
doing
now
,
my
mother
and
Prim
?
Were
they
able
to
eat
supper
?
The
fish
stew
and
the
strawberries
?
Or
did
it
lay
untouched
on
their
plates
?
Did
they
watch
the
recap
of
the
day
's
events
on
the
battered
old
TV
that
sits
on
the
table
against
the
wall
?
Surely
,
there
were
more
tears
.
Is
my
mother
holding
up
,
being
strong
for
Prim
?
Or
has
she
already
started
to
slip
away
,
leaving
the
weight
of
the
world
on
my
sister
's
fragile
shoulders
?
Prim
will
undoubtedly
sleep
with
my
mother
tonight
.
The
thought
of
that
scruffy
old
Buttercup
posting
himself
on
the
bed
to
watch
over
Prim
comforts
me
.
If
she
cries
,
he
will
nose
his
way
into
her
arms
and
curl
up
there
until
she
calms
down
and
falls
asleep
.
I
'm
so
glad
I
did
n't
drown
him
.
Imagining
my
home
makes
me
ache
with
loneliness
.
This
day
has
been
endless
.
Could
Gale
and
I
have
been
eating
blackberries
only
this
morning
?
It
seems
like
a
lifetime
ago
.
Like
a
long
dream
that
deteriorated
into
a
nightmare
.
Maybe
,
if
I
go
to
sleep
,
I
will
wake
up
back
in
District
12
,
where
I
belong
.
Probably
the
drawers
hold
any
number
of
nightgowns
,
but
I
just
strip
off
my
shirt
and
pants
and
climb
into
bed
in
my
underwear
.
The
sheets
are
made
of
soft
,
silky
fabric
.
A
thick
fluffy
comforter
gives
immediate
warmth
.