“Yesterday I went to see a doctor. I woke up with a sore throat, congested sinuses, and invisibility. But when I got to the doctor’s office, he refused to see me.”

“God is a sore loser. Me and him made a bet, and when he lost, he refused to pay up.”

“I wanted, needed to see her so badly that it woke me up at night.”

“I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. Like the bodiless heads you see sometimes in circus sideshows, it is as though I have been surrounded by mirrors of hard, distorting glass. When they approach me they see only my surroundings, themselves or figments of their imagination, indeed, everything and anything except me.”

“Oh, I woke up on this bayou, Got a chain around my heart. Yes, I'm sitting on this bayou, Got a chain tied 'round my heart. Can't you see I'm dyin'? Can't you see I'm cryin'? Can't you throw an old dog a bone? Oh, I woke up, it was rainin', But it was tears came fallin' down. Yes, I woke up, it was rainin', But it was tears came fallin' down. Can't you see I'm tryin'? Can't you hear my cryin'? Can't you see I'm all alone? Can't you throw this old dog a bone?”

“Peeta's awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as the trio of doctors reassure him, flash lights in his eyes, checks his pules. I'm disappointed that mine was not the first face he saw when he woke up, but he sees it now. His features registrer disbelief and something more intense that I can't quite place. Desire? Desperation? Surely both, for he sweeps the doctors aside, leaps to his feets and moves towards me. I run to meet him, my arms extended to embrace him. His hands are reaching for mine too, to caress my face, I think.My lips are forming his name when his fingers lock around my throat.”