"If eyes are the window to the soul,
then grief is the door.
As long as it's closed it's the barrier
between knowing and not knowing.
Walk away from it and it stays closed forever
but open it and walk through it,
and pain becomes truth."
"It was a waste of a trip, she's not here" I tell him. "She's not here. You can hiss all you like. You won't find Prim." At her name, he perks up. Begins to meow hopefully. "Get out!" He dodges the pillow I throw at him. "Go away! There's nothing left for you here!" I start to shake, furious with him. "She's not coming back! She's never ever coming back here again!" I grab another pillow and get to my feet to improve my aim. Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. "She's dead." I clutch my middle to dull the pain. Sink down on my heels, rocking the pillow, crying. "She's dead, you stupid cat. She's dead." A new sound, part crying, part singing, comes out of my body, giving voice to my despair. Wave after wave of sobs racks my body, until eventually I fall unconscious. But he must understand.
He must know that the unthinkable has happened and to survive will require previously unthinkable acts.
- Katniss Everdeen
"Mockingjay" by Suzanne Collins