Chapter 1: You Don't Look Like Them
District 12 is the biggest dump in all of Panem. But in my family, we don't want for anything, so I suppose it's a decent enough place to live, provided you don't want for anything.
There are people who do want, though. Plenty.
I've seen them when I pass through what is known as the Seam, the poorer section of the district. It's much dirtier than what is simply referred to as "Town." Mostly miners live in the shanty houses, with just enough wages to feed their families, the many children that they really shouldn't have, if they were being financially wise.
My name is Rosemary Fairchild. I am one of the Fairchilds, the largest Merchant family in all of District 12. So, in that sense, I feel luckier than most of the people here.
Except for today, when my crop of hair that appears like the pallor of dirty rice - a dirty blonde streaked with some brown - draws the attention of some Seam boys as I walk home from school. They are kind of a gang, and known to terrorize most of the school, which is where I'm walking home from.
"Where you going, Townie?" I simply walk faster, hoping I can reach my family's compound before they cut me off. But they do cut me off. They surround me and I suddenly feel very afraid. The Slag Heap, where many of my classmates go to have a good fuck, is not far from here. They could easily force me there and rape me, the lot of them.
Suddenly, a blur of brown hair careens into the pack. Seam grey eyes flash as a boy bravely bullies back the entire gang using only his fists. When a few persist, he brandishes a tanning knife and the rest of the brutish band scatter.
I get a good look at my rescuer. I recognize him from school. He is tall, handsome. Well-built. And boy, can he fight! If he was ever Reaped for the Hunger Games, he could actually win. And a win for District 12 in the Hunger Games has only happened once in almost half a century, so that's saying something!
"What are you doing on this side of the tracks?" Haymitch asks.
"Me? This is my side of the tracks," I frown.
"Sure," the boy smirks. "With the Hob sitting right there?" Really, I'm on the border between Town and Seam.
"I have to run an errand for my mother. Pick something up there," and I point at the Hob. Which is the truth. I go in and pay for my grocery, fully aware that the boy has followed me and sidled up behind me, as if keeping a lookout for more ne'er-do-wells. I leave the Hob, with him still following me.
"You need a walk home?" he asks. "You can never be too careful."
I'm about to point out that he'll just follow me anyway, as he's been doing, but bite my tongue and just nod. We walk together back into Town proper in silence.
"My name's Rosemary. Rosemary Fairchild," I finally get out and bravely pause in my walking, sticking out my hand to shake his. The boy just eyes me.
"Haymitch Abernathy," he gets out.
"Your father's the tanner, isn't he?" I ask immediately, recognizing the name.
He shrugs. "Who wants to know?"
"And a younger brother?"
Haymitch raises a suspicious eyebrow. "You ask a lotta questions, Sweet Cakes."
I shrug, trying to sound innocent. "I've seen you in school. Your fights with the other boys are kind of legendary."
Haymitch must be pleased by my observation, for he puffs out his chest with pride. There is something between a smile and a smirk on his face - the kind one would show after finally receiving recognition or praise long-overdue. I have to smile. I think it's a caricature, how boastful everyone rumors him to be. For there have been many rumors about Haymitch Abernathy.
But there is still one question on my mind: "Didn't your father ever teach you to stay out of fights?"
The cocky veneer is gone, but only for a moment. Yet it is enough for me to see that I have struck a nerve. "No," Haymitch finally gets out. "He was more of the taking-off-and-never-coming-back kind of guy."
Broken home. Many children of the Seam are. It would be an awful stereotype if there wasn't some truth to it. A lack of sexual education leads to more hungry babies than unready parents can care for. Haymitch is just another casualty. "Sorry," I bite my lip.
"Hey, no big deal; I'm doing just fine," he flips off.
We have now reached my street, where the Fairchild compound is just beyond. Haymitch drops me off here, and for good reason: a Merchant seen with a Seam kid, even on a friendly walk home, would be viewed as very, very suspicious. He ambles off. "See you later, Rosemary!" he calls over his shoulder.
I stare after him for a moment, before shaking my head to clear it and going into my house.