The Hunger Games: Part I excerpt

By Suzanne Collins

"Don't go."
Close Read: This is an act of trust. Rue wants Katniss with her while she dies and she wants Katniss to hold her hand, which only close people normally do. We can understand that Rue really trusts Katniss and perhaps sees her as abig sister and wants Katniss close to her while she takes her last breath.
Rue tightens her grip on my hand.

"Course not. Staying right here,"
Close Read: After seeing how Rue trusts Katniss, this shows us that Katniss also feels the same way about Rue. It is pretty obvious that Katniss sees Rue as a little sister just like Prim, and that she gives her comfort. Rue means a lot to Katniss, and she won't let Rue die on her own.
I say. I move in closer to her, pulling her hand onto my lap. I gently brush the dark, thick hair back behind her ear.
Expansion: You wouldn't do this to someone who is not close to you. Holding someones hand and touching their hair requires some type of closeness and this is another moment where we see that Katniss sees Rue as a little sister.

"Sing," she says, but I barely catch the word.

Sing? I think. Sing what? I do know a few songs. Believe it or not, there was once music in my house, too. Music I helped make. My father pulled me in with that remarkable voice – but I haven't sung since he died.
Question: Does the thought of singing remind you of your dad? Did you enjoy singing?
Except when Prim is very sick. Then I sing her the same songs she liked as a baby.

Sing. My throat is tight with tears, hoarse from the smoke and fatigue.
Question: Do you think Rue realized that you were extremely sad at that moment? Were you successful at hiding your feelings at that exact moment or did Rue see the change in your face?
But if this is Prim's, I mean, Rue's last request, I have to at least try.
Expansion: Katniss has lost a person that is like a sister to her, and she wants Rue to go as peaceful as possible. So, Katniss tries her best to satisfy Rue's last request.
The song that comes to me is a simple lullaby, one we sing fretful, hungry babies to sleep with. It's old, very old I think. Made up long ago in our hills. What my music teacher calls a mountain air. But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece of time we call today.