Hey guys this is my first fan fiction and I am very nervous. please please review comment and critique me please. also i am making changes to the first couple of chapters so if you have already read them maybe just look over them again. i hope you stay with me as I work through this story and let me know what you think.
***Also little tid bit about the writing style. I have never been drunk nor plan to be so I don't know how to write like Haymitch is extremely drunk. Also I thought it would be hard to follow so I chose to write it as if he knows he is drunk but he doesn't realize how much, but everyone else does. Hope you like it. (To best understand some referenses in this chapter and throughout the story it is best to have read the first two books.)
Chapter 1: Out of the darkness and into Hell
I see the ax hurling toward me, it is about to pierce my temple when I open my eyes and I'm up with a jolt. Just another nightmare, just the beginning of another day, but today is different today is the reaping for the Hunger Games. Today I meet the two tributes I must train for the area, the two tributes that are most likely going to die.
I need a drink.
I reach for the bottle in front of me with my right hand, my left hand still holding the knife I fell asleep with. I bring it up to my lips, empty. It smashes to pieces as I let it fall to the floor. I stumble from my seat heading to the cabinet for a new bottle. I seem steady on my feet today I think to myself. I only fell twice in the short distance to the cabinet…or was it four, gah what does it matter anyway. If I wasn't drunk before I am gunna be soon.
I finally hold the bottle after several attempts to grab it, and slowly drunkenly make my way up the stairs to change. Today I will force on a suit sit on a stage while one boy and girl will find out they are going to their almost imminent death. I take a long pull from the bottle. If I had my way I wouldn't be conscious during the whole thing, that not being an option I am gunna try to get as close to that as possible. Sticking to my internal promise, I down half of the bottle of spirits. Entering my room I bump into the dresser and the picture frames that were on top of it crash to the ground. I sober up for a minute setting my bottle on the ground picking up the pictures and examining them for tares from the broken glass. I set the one of my mother and brother back on the shelf, the other I hold on to for a minute and pick up my bottle. I tear up a little looking at the picture, remembering. Daisy, my girl smiling in the picture frozen in that moment forever. I set her picture next to the other one, I look at them one more time, "I'm so sorry" I say and and take another drink.
I'm staring blindly into my closet when I hear a light knock on the door. Having the bottle in one hand and the suit hanger in the other, I realize for the first time that I forgot my knife, my protection down stairs. The women standing in the doorway took me by surprise an I weakly raise the hanger in front of me as a defense. I know she won't hurt me but my survival instinct is always the one that takes over first. I must have had too many spirits because in front of me are the Donner twins. But that can't be because Maysilee Donner is dead. I know this because I held her hand in the arena as she died, I closed her eyes so she looked asleep, and her face haunts me constantly in my dreams.
"Margery", I say in a drunken slur, "What are you doing here?"
She comes over and takes away the hanger and the bottle from my hand. Before I can protest this she lightly bumps me and I fall onto the bed.
"What I do every year Haymitch", she says in her small shy worn birdlike voice, "Making sure you make an appearance at the reaping".
Oh yeah now I remember. My first year around as a mentor I was so drunk that I missed the reaping completely, barely made it to the train and only reason I did was because of the 4 peacekeepers that had to carry my there. Every year since Margery has taken it on herself to make sure I make it there so that I don't cause any more trouble than I already have.
She orders me to the shower and when I get out she helps my dress and I clumsily obey her every command. I've given her and her family enough heartbreak that even though I am drunk and barely lucid I try not to give her any trouble. "Margery-", I start but she cuts me off, "Haymitch don't. It wasn't your fault".
"But it was, if I didn't let her leave-", she stops me again, "If you didn't let her leave it would have been something later, there is no point in wondering what if. I am just grateful she didn't die alone". She says nothing after this, and neither do I because no matter how many times she reassures me it will always be my fault.
When I'm fully dressed and look somewhat decent she gives me a kiss on the cheek and she is heading down the stairs when I hear her call back, "Be at the square in ten minutes".
I don't respond because I am coming to the realization that she hid my wine bottle. Be at the square in ten minutes she says, fine I'll head to the square but not until I find my liquid courage to help me through it.