Haymitch's Games

by InkMarked

Its all a game right. It is all a game. They don't even care or give an F if we all live or die. It is a game for them, and therefore, it is also a game for me. I can play with people's feelings. They have played with mine, and I really don't care about hurting people. They have hurt more than I ever could if I wanted to.

1. Chapter 1

Its all a game right. It is all a game. They don't even care or give an F if we all live or die. It is a game for them, and therefore, it is also a game for me.

I can play with people's feelings. They have played with mine, and I really don't care about hurting people. They have hurt more than I ever could if I wanted to. Staying ethical? Yeah, right. Tell me that before I die for your entertainment just so you can see how ridiculous it sounds.

Chapter 1: The ripping

When I heard my name being called out I felt like laughing. It didn't feel real, my first reaction was to treat it as a joke. In the hopes that if I treated it like one, maybe, and just maybe, it would go away. But it didn't.

The silence that overtook the air was too much to bare, and I started moving forwards, towards the stage, without even knowing that I was doing so.

Everyone looked so close but so far away form there. There was no signs of respects, no signs of anything really. Just pity. Pity and relief. Relief that it was not them in my position.

I didn't even hear the name of the girl who was called after me. Everything was a blur, and everything afterwards was a blur too. I don't even remember saying goodbye to my family. I just remember the day in which I entered the capitol for the first day. It was full of people. No, not people. That would be a compliment. They were something less than people. Because people don't do that to others.

By then, I knew who the girl coming with me was. I didn't know her name though. I didn't want to. Not if she would die in the next month or so.

She had brown curly hair, and blue eyes. Probably the bluest eyes I have ever seen. She was fierce, and acted as if he was not scared. Except for the fact that she trembled in her every wound. I wondered how long would she last. Not long. Not possibly.

The careers were so much easier to spot. The tall kids with legs in their armpits instead of actual arms. I would never qualify to be one of them, and that was a good thing. Being quiet and smart has proven to be just as helpful, if not more.