“I just don't want them to change me, if I'm going to die I still want to be me.”

“I wish I could think of a way to show them that they don't own me. If I'm going to die, I still want to be me.”

“I don't know how to say it exactly. Only...I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?' he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself. 'I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not.”

“I just keep wishing, I could think of a way, to show to them that they don't own me. That if I'm gonna die, I wanna still be me. Does that make sense? Yeah. I just can't afford to think that way.”

“Why not? It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and..." He hesitates.And what?" I say.I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself? "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."I bite my lip feeling inferior. While I've been ruminating on the availability of trees, Peeta has been struggling with how to maintain his identity. His purity of self. "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?" I ask.No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to... to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.But you're not," I say. "None of us are. That's how the Games work."Okay, but within that frame work, there's still you, there's still me," he insists. "Don't you see?"A little, Only... no offense, but who cares, Peeta?" I say.I do. I mean what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" he asks angrily. He's locked those blue eyes on mine now, demanding an answer.”

“And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen when we get home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.”

“Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't want to die like Cato," he says.“Then you shoot me," I say furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!" And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two.”