If I could find away to see this straight I'd run
away,
To some fortune that I should
have found by now ,
So I run now to the things they said could restore me,
Restore life the way it should be..
I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down
One more spoon of cough syrup now oh.
one more spoon of cough syrup
now...
My foot has
just broken the surface
of the water when I hear a voice.
“You here to finish me off,
sweetheart? I whip around. It’s
come from the left, so I can’t pick it
up very well. And the voice was
hoarse and weak. Still, it must have
been Peeta. Who else in the arena
would call me sweetheart? ”
My eyes peruse the bank,
but there’s nothing. Just
mud, the plants, the base of
the rocks. “Peeta?” I whisper. “Where are
you
?” There’s no answer
. Could I just have
imagined it? No, I’m certain it was real and very
close at hand, too. “Peeta?
” I creep along the bank
. “Well,
don’t step on me.”
I jump back. His voice was
right under my feet. Still
there’s nothing. Then his
eyes open, unmistakably
blue in the brown mud and
green leaves. I gasp and am
rewarded with a hint of
white teeth as he laughs.
♥
It’s the final word in
camouflage. Forget
chucking weights
around. Peeta should
have gone into his
private session with the
Gamemakers and
painted himself into a
tree. Or a boulder. Or a
muddy bank full of weeds.
“Close your eyes again,”
I order. He does, and his
mouth, too, and
completely disappears
. Most of what I judge to
be his body is actually
under a layer of mud
and plants. His face and
arms are so artfully
disguised as to be
invisible. I kneel beside
him. “I guess all those
hours decorating cakes
paid off.” Peeta smiles.
“Yes, frosting. The final
defense of the dying.” .