Haymitch: Behind His Mind

Chapter 1: The reaping

Haymitch opened his eyes and was blinded by a ray of sunlight streaming through his window. Blinking hard he rolled over and got out of bed, his bare feet slapping against the stone floor. His little brother, Abraham, was still sleeping. He was only five years old. He saw his father who was rising up next to him in the little shack they lived in. Haymitch met his eyes and they nodded at each other, they let Abraham sleep. Today was reaping day. The thought struck his mind. Hard. His name would be in the reaping bag 36 times due to all the terrasse he had taken to support him and his father. He thought about the games and their stupid slogan May the odds be ever in your favor. Not in district 12, the odds weren't in anybodies favor here. Haymitch got himself ready for the reaping putting on a suit and tie. You won't get picked. You won't get picked. The thought circled around his head. It was true, there were many people who had a much higher chance to get picked. Yet, Haymitch was still a likely choice. Just to be sure he had taken up training just in case he got picked. Not that it would be much use against the careers who had been training all their lives. He walked to the table that was standing no less than five feet away. His dad poured him some cereal.

"I'm 16, dad. I can pour my own cereal" His dad shook his head sadly.

"I know your 16, but I wish you weren't" Haymitch knew what his dad meant. He munched on his cereal while listening to his dad talk.

"Don't worry, you won't get picked" his dad told him. It sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself. Haymitch nodded thoughtfully. After breakfast they made their way out the door which opened with an ominous creaking sound. They walked past the ramshackle cottages and the poverty that Haymitch had lived with all his life. He saw a guy moaning on the ground and he shook his head sadly. District 12 was the worst district you could be in. Except for district 13 that is, but they didn't really exist anymore. It took a while to get to the justice building. Haymitch passed the check-in and looked hatefully at the stage where he had seen so many people condemned to their death. Several people muttered hello as Haymitch passed by but Haymitch was numb to them.

"Welcome to the reaping of the 50th annual hunger games and a quarter quell!" the lady on stage said in her capitol accent. A quarter quell, oh god. Haymitch had totally forgotten. This day was just getting worse. That was when he saw Ariana. Shining Ariana, who lit up his world. He forgot his troubles and his hand met hers. For the first time that day, Haymitch smiled. Ariana smiled back and wished him good luck. Haymitch and Ariana passed ways and out of the corner of his eye he saw Abraham with his father in the side. He waved and Abraham waved back. Smiling to himself, Haymitch turned his attention to the stage.

"As you all know, this quarter quell has been kept secret" the woman on stage said, Haymitch had never bothered to learn her name, "but not for long" she continued, "this quarter quell there will be double the number of tributes." Haymitch heard several gasps and his stomach lurched, double the number of tributes, double the number of deaths, almost no chance of survival. The capitol woman smiled,

"Isn't it just sooo exciting?" she said. Haymitch didn't think so. Nervousness threatened to burst out of Haymitch and he felt sick. He watched as the escort went to her handbag and started to rummage around. Haymitch closed his eyes, crossed his fingers and started praying.

"Haymitch Abernathy." The voice rang out, loud and clear. Haymitch opened his eyes. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

"Haymitch Abernathy" the escort repeated. Haymitch stepped out of the crowd. He could feel all eyes piercing through him as he walked up to the stage. He didn't look at his father. He didn't look at Ariana, nor Abraham, nor anyone. He stepped on the stage and dropped his eyes to the floor. His chest started closing, he would die. He could fight, he was strong, but he was nothing compared to the careers. He closed his eyes wishing for a miracle, wishing for something to whisk him away to another planet. He heard the escort call out three more names.

" Maysilee Donner" Haymitch opened his eyes and saw her. A olive skinned girl was shakily walking up. His gray Seam eyes met hers for a fraction of a second. Haymitch looked away.

"Jacob Erbringer" the next name called up. A boy, pale and thin walked up to the stage and stood next to Haymitch. Haymitch noticed the order of genders called had been different today but he didn't care. All that mattered was that he was going to the games and that he would die.

"Matilda Jones" was called up and a stocky girl came up. Haymitch narrowed his eyes, nobody in District 12 was fat. Nobody. He looked at the girl and realized he had seen her before. He saw edges of a pillow under her shirt and snorted. She was trying to look pretty. The doors opened behind Haymitch and he walked into them with their escort. Looking back, he saw Ariana who was pale and worried. He tried to give a reassuring smile, but it wasn't convincing. He waved, but the doors closed sealing off his district 12. Probably forever.

Haymitch was escorted down a long hallway and into a room where three women were waiting. His prep team. He was escorted to the middle room.

"Take off your clothes" the lead stylist said. Haymitch blinked, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"All of them?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Yes, we need to inspect you. How else will we style you up" Haymitch thought it was stupid to have to look good while being executed but he did as they said. They guided him to a chair and started circling him making notes. Haymitch started to feel chilly and he heard them muttering.

"Curly black hair, strong muscles..." Haymitch was about to ask how long it would take when they got to work. They curled his hair and plastered him in this weird sticky stuff which they pulled off quickly and with it any hair on his body. It continued for almost an hour when they abruptly started to leave.

"I never got your names" Haymitch said. They looked at him. The lead stylist showed off her blonde hair with red highlights.

"I'm Vanessa" she gestured to the girl to her right, "She's Vivienne" she gestured to the girl on her left, "That's Viviana." Haymitch wondered how many people had a name that started with V. Another person entered the room, he was the head stylist. At least, that was what it said on his name tag. The head stylist inspected him then handed him a robe.

"Let me show you what I have in mind for the chariots" Haymitch put on the robe and followed William, thats what it said on his name tag, to the costumes. Haymitch was disappointed, but not surprised to see that this years outfit sucked. It was just a plain old black suit with a cheap flame glued on in the oddest places. It looked like he wouldn't be getting many sponsors. Haymitch sighed and picked up the suit. This was turning out to be the worst day of his life. And it would probably be one of his last.