Effie looked outside, face pressed firmly against the glass, feeling the crisp coldness against her pale skin. And she wanted nothing more than to feel the cold little droplets on her fingertips, and to catch them on tongue. However, a thick glass doorway sealed Effie away from the frosty wonderland that she had always wanted to experience.
Since her parents were gone at some sort of strange capitol party, Effie might have been able to slip outside and dance in the wispy snow, but she was forbidden, because her tiny hands couldn't undo the locks without a key that she didn't have.
So instead of breaking outside to make snow angels, Effie sat down on the couch. Her tiny yet clumsy hands clambered at the remote on the table as she failed to turn on her favorite show, the Hunger Games.
Action immediately took possession of the screen as the boy from twelve ravenously sliced off the girl from four's head. There was a tight shlock noise and then a sharp cannon rang through the arena. There were only two more careers left for Haymitch to kill. It wasn't completely hopeless.
Her eyes widened as the anticipation built. She didn't want her favorite tribute to die, and it didn't look well for him.
But everything went wrong. Haymitch dodged a slice from four, but he was weakened from his previous fight, and not near as quick as he had to be to dodge the next blow. A firm hand shoved Haymitch to the closest tree and a knife held to his neck. "Any last words, Twelve?"
It sounded like Haymitch might have been trying to say something, but blood was dripping out of his mouth and he would have had trouble forming words had he tried. But this isn't the end for him, and the gargle of blood isn't his last words. Because before he can say a syllable, the attacker drops dead.
Effie let out a huge sigh of relief and began fiddling with hairclip that was holding her hair in a tight bun. Though she usually enjoyed the Hunger Games, she sometimes grew rather bored with the blood and gore. However, she would never be the one to speak up about it.
It was an unspoken rule; Everyone liked the games even if they didn't. If you disagree with the blood and malice that the gamemakers create, then you pretend that you agree wholeheartedly. Smile past it and clap when a particularly gruesome death is displayed. And eventually everyone learns to love the games.
Not to say that Effie didn't like the games. Because of course she did, but occasionally, she found them a little too sad when one of her favorite tribute died. Of course, right then, her favorite tribute, Haymitch Abernathy from district twelve, was still alive, but still she was horribly bored.
Once she finally got the hairclip off of her white curls, she let a small smile pass onto her lips. With this clip, she could probably sneak outside. But then again, she didn't know how to pick the lock, and with Effie, devious thoughts never got very far.
With a sigh, she dismissed her terrible thoughts and put the golden pin back into her hair. Then she slowly walked up the stairs to her own room where she could play with her tea set in peace.
In Effie's room, on the chairs next to the tea set sat Fredricka the teddy bear, Millie the doll, and an empty seat for herself. They were always perfect companions for tea, and never interrupted her when she talked. But that day Effie felt like she needed someone else to play with. She pulled out a new stuffed pillow of the one and only-Haymitch Abernathy, and smiled at her handiwork. Now the table felt perfectly full.
Effie poured the tea that was always ready for her into four cups and said " , it's nice to meet you."
Sighing dramatically, she mutters "If only it was the real you, Mr. Haymitch. You need to get out of the arena so I can meet you for real. And then my daddy will let you come over and we can have slumber parties and tea… that would be so much fun!"
Of course, the Haymitch stuffed pillow doesn't respond and she would be worried if he did, but Euphemia can just imagine him saying "Of course, Effie! I just can't wait!"