As I reach behind me to pull an arrow from my quiver I can feel a bead of sweat slowly making its way down the back of my neck. The air is humid and the late-afternoon sun unrelenting, tiny pinpricks of light beating down on me as they make their way through the branches overhead. A deer is drinking water at the small creek that runs through this part of the forest. Watching it quench its thirst brings attention to how dry my own mouth feels. My lips are cracked from the heat and running my tongue over them does nothing to help. I nock my arrow, I can drink some water after I kill the deer. Just as I am about to release the arrow I blink and the deer is gone. In its place I see a fair-skinned boy staring back at me, fear in his bright blue eyes and an arrow already lodged in his chest. I let out a short gasp and drop my bow, the arrow falling limply to the ground beside it.
I curl up on the forest floor next to my discarded bow. My arms are wrapped tightly around my legs as I rock back and forth, face buried in my knees. The deer I was supposed to shoot is long gone. The image of Raith, the fourteen-year old boy from District Five, is seared into the back of my eyelids. Of all the tributes from the arena, all the kids I killed, his is the face that haunts me the most. His short, curly hair was the exact same shade of blonde as Prim's and even his eyes were an eerily similar blue. As with every other time I have a nightmare or flashback it only takes me a few minutes before I begin to pull myself out of it by focusing on another, stronger emotion. I lift myself up off the forest floor as I tap into the white hot rage that is always simmering just below the surface. I let it wash over me and drown out everything else. The panic that incapacitated me just moments ago melts away in its path. I make my way over to the creek to fill my water bottle before heading back towards Victors' Village.
I decide to pay Haymitch a visit before I head home. Walking in the cool night air has calmed me down a little but I know I will feel even better after some human interaction. The last time I went home this angry I broke my bedroom door. Not that it mattered much, being the only one in the house means I have all the privacy I need. Haymitch answers almost immediately after I knock and looks me over as I stand in his doorway.
"You smell like you could use a shower," he scrunches his nose in an exaggerated show of disgust.
"I'm surprised you can smell me over the stench of alcohol," I counter.
He grins at my retort and steps out of the doorway to let me into his house. I forced Haymitch to cut down on his drinking while he was mentoring me and he has managed to keep his habit mostly under control since then. There are still a few empty glass bottles scattered around his house but he goes through them much slower these days. I follow him into the kitchen where he pulls a full bottle out of the cupboard before taking a seat at the table.
"Are you ready for your big debut as a mentor?" He gulps down some liquor before sliding the bottle across the table towards me.
"I do have you as a teacher," I take a swig and wince as it burns its way down my throat, "so probably not."
Haymitch lets out a small chuckle, though I am not sure if it is because of my words or the face I am making. Every once in a while I take Haymitch up on the offer of a drink and end up immediately regretting my decision. I have no idea how his insides are still intact after ingesting so much of this vile liquid in his lifetime. I push the bottle back towards him, shaking my head to indicate that I will not be partaking in any more.
"Suit yourself, sweetheart." He takes another long gulp before screwing the cap back onto the bottle. "I did mentor the latest victor so I'd say I'm not too shabby."
One month ago I asked Haymitch to start teaching me everything he knew about being a mentor. At first he found my request odd considering that I have done nothing to hide the fact that I abhor everything about the Hunger Games. Most people in District Twelve do, but for me it is personal and the wounds are fresh. Still, I know there will be a scared tribute counting on me to mentor them and I take that responsibility seriously. There is nothing I can do about the Hunger Games right now and as much as I hate having to continue to take part in the atrocity I cannot neglect my duty to the District Twelve tributes. Once I explained Haymitch understood where I was coming from and he has been a surprisingly good teacher, though I would never tell him that.
"The latest victor was a disaster. She doesn't even have a talent."
Haymitch grunts but doesn't respond. The mood has suddenly turned serious. I curse myself for bringing up the talent. Every victor is supposed to have one but neither of us ever bothered. We have nothing left to lose by disobeying, Snow has already exhausted all his ammunition for both of us. At this point we can get away with pretty much anything short of inciting a rebellion with little consequence. Mentioning the lack of a talent, even as a joke, is just another reminder of everything we lost to get here. Of course Haymitch lost it all a long time ago but watching me go through it after my Games dredged up a lot of painful memories for him. I decide to change the subject.
"Did you lose your razor? Effie is going to have a heart attack when she sees that shitty excuse for a beard."
"I was just trying it out," he runs his fingers through the uneven tufts of hair sprouting from his chin. "Anyway I don't give a rat's ass what Effie Trinkett thinks. Though she is going to have a heart attack when she smells you."
"Unlike you, I bathe regularly. And whether or not you care what Effie thinks, you should make an effort 'Mitch." He snorts at the nickname I've given him but doesn't say anything. "Not for Effie, for the tributes. It might make the reaping slightly less terrifying if their mentors look halfway serious."
"I'll shower and shave," he concedes. "Maybe even throw on some clean clothes."
I smirk, "Wow Effie really might have a heart attack when she sees you."
We chat for a little longer before I decide to head home. Haymitch walks me to the door and watches me walk towards my house. After I won the Hunger Games my family was moved in to the house directly across from Haymitch. When I got back to District Twelve after the Victory Tour they moved me in diagonally across the street from him, right next door to the destroyed house. I am certain that Snow has purposefully prevented anyone from clearing out the lot just so I have to walk past the charred remains of that house every day. A reminder of what my actions cost me.
"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," Mayor Undersee drawls.
For the first time in twenty-four years a new name is added to the list of past District Twelve victors he reads out, bringing the grand total to three. Effie Trinkett, who is sitting to my left wearing a bright green suit and a pale pink wig, stands as Mayor Undersee introduces her. She arrived on my doorstep before the reaping looking equal parts shocked and impressed when I let her in and she saw Haymitch sitting on a couch in my living room. His hair had been cut, his face clean-shaven, and the shirt he was wearing was brand new. Mayor Undersee, who now takes a seat next to Haymitch as Effie steps forward, was also shocked to see Haymitch arrive on time, well-dressed, and relatively sober.
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She delivers her signature line while reaching her hand into the glass ball full of girls' names, swirling it around to mix the slips of paper up a little before grabbing one and pulling it out. "Tally Cable."
I don't recognize the name and I look out over the sea of children all separated by ages to see who walks onto stage. There is movement up front, where the youngest eligible children are standing, and a tiny dark-haired girl who must only be twelve years old breaks away from the group to walk towards the stage. Once she starts climbing the steps and I get a clear look at her I realize I know her, or at least I recognize her. I never knew her name but her mother used to bring her over to our house often - she was a very sickly child. From the looks of it she still is, she has a frailty about her beyond the usual starving demeanor of kids from the Seam. I can sense the anger of the crowd even from the stage.
"Are there any volunteers?" Effie asks after Tally has taken her place on the stage.
I don't hold my breath, there hasn't been a volunteer in District Twelve for decades so Effie's question is merely formality at this point. The crowd is silent as expected and Effie gives a short nod before walking towards the glass balls to pick a male tribute. Before she reaches her hand in she is interrupted.
"I volunteer," it is a strong female voice that comes from the back of the sea of children, the seventeens, and I wonder if maybe Tally has an older sister I did not know about
The girl steps out from her group to walk towards the stage and I realize there is no way she is related to Tally. Unlike the twelve year-old girl, she has fair skin and looks a bit healthier than a Seam kid. I assume she is merchant, which would also explain why I don't recognize her, but what is unusual is that she does not have the trademark blonde hair of the merchant class. Instead her hair is a medium brown color, a shade that I have never seen in District Twelve.
"Johanna Mason," she introduces herself when she reaches the stage, gently nudging Tally towards the steps.
"Cutting it quite close, aren't we Johanna?" Effie chirps as she watches Tally run off the stage and towards her mother. "No matter. How exciting to have a volunteer, bravo! Let's give her a round of applause everybody."
Generally people do not applaud at reapings but I suppose Effie thinks someone volunteering is a special enough occasion to warrant it. I look out over the crowd and am pleased to see that not one person comes close to clapping. Instead I see a couple people giving Johanna the old District Twelve salute, touching three fingers of their left hand to their lips and then holding them out to her. It spreads quickly and before long everyone in the crowd seems to be saluting her. She returns it before stepping back so that Effie can pick out the male tribute.
"Peeta Mellark."
"You sure you still want the girl?" Haymitch asks me as I sit down next to him at the dining room table. "The boy looked strong, he probably has a better chance."
Haymitch and I talked before the reaping and I told him I would mentor the female tribute. In previous years, including my own, Haymitch has had to be the mentor for both tributes since he was the only living victor in Twelve. It is just another way District Twelve tributes have been disadvantaged. Now that there are two of us we can each mentor one of the tributes, which is what all the other districts do. Haymitch told me that from what he has heard from other victors they all seem to have different ways of deciding which tribute each mentor will be assigned. Doing it based on gender just seemed like the simplest route.
"I'm sure."
Haymitch looks like he is about to respond but stops himself when Peeta walks into the room. I take note of his sturdy build and the way his blonde hair falls across his eyes. Not only does he seem strong, he is also good looking. Both are qualities that can be advantageous in the Hunger Games. Johanna walks in right after Peeta and I look carefully at my new mentee. She is about my height but she is not as thin as I am, and from what I can tell the difference is mostly muscle. It was hard to see in the clothes she wore to the reaping but the Capitol provided outfit she changed into is a little tighter and accentuates the muscles in her arms. She is also strong. And she is even better looking than Peeta. Both the tributes take a seat and Effie signals for the first course to be brought out. I observe both of them throughout dinner. They both eat a lot despite Effie's warnings - no matter how well off their families are by District Twelve standards, it is likely they have never had food this rich. I pay special attention to Johanna, who is sitting across from Haymitch. The way she attacks her food almost seems like she hasn't had a decent meal in a while. This doesn't make sense to me since you can tell by looking at her that she has grown up well-fed. Maybe I am misreading her actions but this girl is definitely a mystery. I am really curious about why she volunteered for that girl from the Seam but it doesn't seem appropriate to ask.
"So Johanna, how do you know Tally?"
Apparently Effie is just as curious as me and not as concerned with Johanna's privacy. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised about that. Effie is nice enough, I suppose, but she is a Capitol citizen. To them the Hunger Games are entertainment and everything about the tributes is part of the show. Johanna puts down her fork and swallows the bite of cake she had in her mouth before replying.
"I don't."
"Let's finish up and go watch the other reapings," I jump in before Effie can ask her to explain. Johanna's tone made it clear she did not care for the question and the girl has enough on her mind without having to deal with Effie's insensitivity. "Get an idea of what you two up against."
I push my seat away from the table and lead the way to the compartment where we can watch the recap of the day's events. It is weird to think that just a year ago I was in this very train as a tribute. We all take a seat in the compartment and watch the reapings from the other districts in silence. I size up the tributes as I watch the video, trying to decide which ones will be the biggest threats. Once the video is over Peeta speaks up.
"How exactly is this going to work? Do we each get one of you as a mentor?"
"Good question kid," Haymitch responds. "I will mentor you, Katniss will take Johanna."
"When do we start?" Johanna asks.
"Tomorrow," I tell her. "For now I recommend trying to get some sleep."
She gives a brisk nod and leaves. Peeta and Effie also head out of the compartment, leaving me alone with Haymitch.
"Johanna is a bit of a mystery," I comment.
"Do you know why I was late to the train?" Haymitch asks. He slipped onto the train after both the tributes were already on. I shake my head, unsure where he is going with this. "I stuck around the Justice Building, I was very curious about Johanna's family. Peeta had his parents and brothers come by, I already knew he was the baker's kid so no surprise there. But I stuck around until they were both led to the car and not one person came by to visit Johanna."
I mull this over in my head, it is hard to imagine that if Johanna had any living family members they would pass over the chance to say goodbye. The only explanation I can think of would be that she does not have any family. My mind drifts back to the way she ate at the dinner table, almost desperately.
"She's from the home," I voice my realization out loud.
"Bingo," Haymitch says softly. "I'd guess from looking at her she hasn't been there more than a couple weeks. If she had it would be more obvious. Judging by the way she ate though it's been at least a few days."
The pieces seem to fall together. She must have lost whatever family she had very recently and been sent to the community home. That place crushes the toughest kids from the Seam, I can't imagine what it would be like for a merchant kid who was used to a relatively comfortable life. But something still doesn't add up.
"She's seventeen. She may not be old enough to get a job in the mines but that doesn't matter if she's not Seam. She should have been able to take over her family business and support herself. How did she end up at the home?"
"I can't quite figure that part out either," Haymitch slouches back in his chair. "Never thought I'd find myself regretting that I didn't pay more attention to what was going on in town."
"Well none of this is important anymore," I get up from my chair as I say this. "I am going to bed. Night 'Mitch."
"See you in the morning, sweetheart."
A/N: Reviews greatly appreciated. They help me figure out if people are actually liking what they read/interested in me writing more.
Also I need a beta for this so if you are interested please PM me.
To clear some stuff up: The only person whose age is different in this story is Johanna. Meaning Katniss was fifteen when she won the 73rd Hunger Games. She did not volunteer because Prim would have been too young to be reaped. Katniss' life before the Games is pretty much the same as the books except that she never had any interactions with Peeta.