Treading Water

Addiction is that burning in your veins, that deep, churning in your heart. The beat-beat-beat of it, slowly quickening, never forgetting; it's that feeling like you will never stop, telling you over and over that you need more, and more, and more until you can't stop.

It's when Your heart quickens and it grows harder and harder and harder until it's trying to escape your chest. It feels like it's cracking your ribs, and the heat, that unbearable, breaking heat, but you can't stop, and eventually, you begin to wonder how you could have possibly lived without it.

That burning becomes part of you, the cracking of your heart, the loss of breath, the yearning. People slowly dissolve into the background because have this. who the hell cares about feelings when you could have this now? How you could ever lose this beautiful hell In the first place.

Addiction is when nothing else matters, when their words don't mean anything anymore, because, really, they're telling you to stop, crying, sobbing, hot tears, telling you to stop this, telling you that it's going to kill you, but who cares, because you could have this; because really, their words mean nothing when the beating of your heart, every breath is telling you to never stop, that you can't stop.

Addiction is this.

It's when you've lost everything and you have nothing to hold onto anymore. It's when you feel empty, hollow, and only that thing can help you anymore is THAT thing. It warms your veins, brings something back to your life that you lost.

Addiction is hunger.

Everyone has felt that deep-rooted sorrow where you feel like you can't DO this anymore, where you want to cry, and cry, and never stop. The problem is when it goes from days, to weeks, to the point where you can't remember what happiness is like anymore. It's that hunger for more, digging deeper, clawing harder, and you can't stop it. You can't stop wanting something that you can't have. It's hunger, it's yearning.

You can get addicted to a certain kind of hunger.

You can get addicted to a certain kind of hope, too. And Effie found that for herself as she started working with Haymitch, and found himself slipping into something like addiction every day. She wanted him to live again, to stop slipping into the bottle and try to crawl back up. She wanted him to laugh again, to cry again, to show that he was human, but there's a point when it's hard to tell if someone really is. Human, I mean.

There's a point when the sorrow is too much and his heart is too slow, and maybe he's not human anymore. Maybe he's a monster created by the capitol, becoming more and more restless in his cage, aching for release. More, and more, and more, and more, until it's all he thinks about, and when all he thinks about is escaping, humanity is gone, replaced by only the most animalistic qualities.

So Effie tried her hardest to respect the victor, but it was hard when he wasn't even really himself anymore.

She would put out tea in the morning, he would dump liquor in it and drink it without a word. She tried to tell the tributes it would be alright and he would counter with a general "Sweetheart, you know it's not." She would try to attract sponsers and he would sit in the corner with an equally drunken Chaff.

And eventually she gave up on him. Stopped trying to help him because what was the point, anyway? The strong 16 year old boy with fire in his eyes was long gone and instead left a stone-eyed man who cared for nothing of fire unless it was in his whisky.

Then, though, the strangest thing happened. The arena had blown up on screen and Effie was confused, starstruck. It was that feeling when you hit your knee and hold your breath because it hurts. It shouldn't happen.

Then Haymitch ran into Effie's room and grabbed her shoulders. For once he didn't look drunken, which was a surprise you can imagine. "Effie, whatever you do, and they're going to take you, so you're going to have to do something, stay alive, ok? We'll come for you, but you've got to stay alive."

This scared her, but no matter how sore Effie had grown of Haymitch throughout the years, when he said something while he was sober, it was usually true whether she wanted to admit it or not.

He took her in his arms and then said "I'll try my best too if it's any consolation."

"What's going on?" She said, but he was already gone, and it was the last she would see of him for a long time.

Maybe the last time she would see him forever and the last thing that he had said was stay alive. The drunken idiot…

Treading water.