*I don't not own The Hunger Games, Characters or places mentioned in this story. All credit goes to Susanne Collins and all events mentioned in this story are fiction.*

Hey you guys!

So yeah, this is my first ever fan fiction story, WOOHOO!

This story, or set of chapters, follows Haymitch's experience in the 50th Quarter Quell, his time in the Capitol, and after the games. Please send me your ideas, ratings, comments, possible improvements [likely involving my crap grammar ;)] blah blah blah to rangernaza .uk [the joys of creating an e-mail at about 9, huh]. I will try to reply to all of them, and if I use one of your ideas in a story, I'll make sure to mention you. No idiotic e-mails please, I will simply ignore you. So without further ado, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Prior to the reaping.

I had just woken up from another rough sleep, the dust from the ancient Seam house lingering around my eyes. Of course that was the least of my problems. Dust, food, water, health care. They all looked weak compared to the day that it was. The day that one 'courageous' young man and woman would have the 'honour' of representing their country in the 50th annu- crap. It was the 50th hunger games. The second quarter quell which meant a horrifying twist to add to the grim fate of the selected tributes going into the arena. For the 25th quarter quell, people had to place a majority vote of which tributes they would send to their dooms. Wow, imagine, standing at the top of the stairs in front of the justice building, looking over the crowd of people before you, knowing that friends, family and possibly even loved ones had all voted to send you to your grave early. I shuddered at the thought of coming back, alive, and having to live with the thought that the people who you had known for years had put you forward to the almost inevitable fate of death. I wondered what the horrific twist would be this year.

My thoughts were interrupted by the call of my mother.

"Haymitch!"

"What?" I rarely had patients with people, and I had even less due to the coming events of today.

My mother came strolling, a little too casually, through to my room, and sat on my bed. We were the only ones in the house, but she spoke like there were others asleep.

"How do you feel?"

"Fantastic. You?"

She gave me a disappointed look. I couldn't help but feel a little unappreciative, but I always shielded my true emotions. A trait of my fathers I presume, but I will never know. He died shortly before I was born, down in a mine explosion, which isn't uncommon.

"Haymitch, nothing will happen to you, none of our family has ever participated in the games, and hopefully, the trend will go on."

"I've taken tesserae so many times, my name is in that stupid fish bowl 34 times, if I've done my maths right."

I had finally broken her down, and she knew it.

"I am grateful to your sacrifice Haymitch, and I would go through the games 100 times to prove that to you. But for now, there is nothing we can do."

Our TV whirred to life, I hate how the capitol can control those blasted machines whenever they like, and our beloved president was on the screen. Hooray.

He recited a few boring lines of the Treaty of Treason, and closed with a deafening, and stupidly unreasonable, applause from the Capitol idiots. A young boy bought a quint mahogany box to the president, which he opened, holding the piece of paper from inside, and read;

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district is required to send twice as many tributes into the arena. Happy hunger games, and may the odds, be ever in your favour."

The president finished, the Capitol anthem played, and the TV became lifeless once more.

"Still, nothing to worry about" my mother said shakily.

"Yeah, just double the chance of being reaped, and therefore, double the chance of death."

What an optimist I am.

Chapter 2 will come soon, but I am busy with school work, so keep waiting. My e-mails at the top, so until next time, thank you sooooo much for reading, and goodbye!