I had this idea this morning and I HAD to write it. I know its probably changing some things but oh well. Here's my take (very ooc idea) on how Effie got where she is now And I knw Effie doesn't really die but bear with me.
"I'll get you out of here Mikayla, I PROMISE." Effie whispered from above her friend. Ever since she was young, she had been able to climb into air vents, make her way around district 12 in secret through underground tunnels. And now she was planning to break her friend out of the Justice Building and escape, because her best friend had just been selected to go to the games. "No Eff, it's too dangerous just leave. Go!"
Effie dropped down to the ground, landing on all fours. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and her bright green eyes sparkled, like they always did when she did something risky. "Come on, I'll boost you up-"
Peacekeepers burst through the doors, grabbing hold of Effie's arms and legs, restraining her, and dragged her out of the room kicking and screaming. Mikayla ran forward, but it was no use. She was gone. "NO! NOO!" Strangled cries escaped the green-eyed girls mouth, and soon she had shouted herself horse, finger raw and bleeding from trying to scratch at the suits and do something, hurt SOMEONE so she could get away.
They injected her with something, and the last thing she remembered was being shoved onto a train. When she woke up, she was in a garden filled with roses. Everywhere she looked they seemed to stretch on forever, their sickly smell and wicked thorns ensnaring her, trapping her here, wherever here was. "So, you're awake." She knew him. She knew that voice. That was the president. President Snow. Turning slowly, cat eyes met snake, and a small smirk rested on his wide, pudgy, disgusting lips. "So what are you going to do with me?" She demended angrily. "Make me an Avox? Kill me?" A cruel chuckle filled the air, mingling with roses and blood. "Oh no. It's much worse then that. I hope you can act , because your life and your families life will depend on it.
She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the strange patterns of her fake lashes stroke her pale skin, and the tightness of the ridiculas purple dress she was wearing. Her black hair had been tied into a tight bun at the top of her head, and had been covered by a gastly curly, violet wig that itched like mad. She had refused to let them alter her in any way, she instead it was just layers and layers of makeup.
At first she hadn't understood why Snow had let her live. It seemed like heaven at first, all the food and finery, but it wasn't long until it turned into her own private hell, the once beautiful things mocking her, and at each and every turn she found something that reminded her of 12. Of Mikayla. Of her parents, her siblings. Oh her brother Haymitch probably thought she was dead. Or maybe it had been announced that she had been taken to the capitol. It didn't matter though. Everyone always forgot the taken. The Lost. Besides, Haymitch was only 6, he wouldn't remember her anyway. She hoped her parents kept pictures of her, hope they told him about her. She wanted him to know who she was, or who she had been.
It had been 8 years. She was no longer the scared, nervous 13 year old done up in an enormous amount of makeup to make herself look older. She could still remember the first reaping she took part in, very very vividly. She could remember stepping onstage, wobbling a bit in her heels (she still wasn't quite used to them) and seeing faces she hadn't seen in a year looking back up at her. But it wasn't the friendly smiles that she was accustomed to seeing.
It was glares. Sneers. Hatred. She could see her mother's face, and her brother's and her other siblings, all Glaring at her like she was the devil himself. She almost hadn't been able to get through her lines. She hated watching those kids die, kids she had known. Kids she had gone to school with. It had been hard at first, hell it still was, she was always scared someone would recognize her. Always scared that they would say something and point her out in front of everyone.
Everyone had their own ways to forget. Effie threw herself into being a stupid airhead, someone the capitol would be proud of. She learned to walk in 8 inch heels, wear all sorts of odd outfits, make her wigs look normal, or as normal as they could look, and threw up a wall between her and the contestants, making stupid, useless remarks that just made them hate her. It killed her. Killed her that no one could know.
But part of her actually died when her brother, Haymitch, was chosen at the Quarter Quell. She had to fight not to let her emotions shine through, and she could almost hear Snow whisper in her ear. "Remember. Your Life and your families may depended on it. And if you tell anyone who you are, I'll have them all publicly executed. And remember, no on can know. No One"
She didn't understand. She'd been good. She hadn't told anyone. But she knew what it was. This was just his way of reminding her that he was still in control, that no matter what, she would never escape him. When Haymitch saw her, she did, for a split second, hold onto the silly hope that maybe, just maybe, he would recognize her. All She got was a spite-filled glare, and her heart sunk. She wanted so badly to tell him what happened, to tell him who she was. But she knew he would never believe her. She could see by the look in his eye that he was no longer that young boy that would believe anything someone told him, that would blindly follow his big sis everywhere. That wasn't him. Not anymore.
When he won, she was estatic, until she relized that meant she would be with him all the time. He would be a mentor. She did the only thing she knew how to do anymore, she just became faker and faker, stupider and stupider, made her own brother hate her and watched as he drunk himself into a stupor.
She would never tell him that that's how she passed most her nights.
So when Katniss Everdeen volunteered for her sister, Effie almost cried with joy. She'd been looking for someone with spunk like this for years, someone who could lead a rebellion.
So when the star crossed lovers won, she cheered with everyone else. That was only the second game where she actually WAS happy about who won. She didn't have to fake anything this time.
And when they got sent back into the arena, she was heartbroken. Of course, it wasn't very surprising. She knew Snow wouldn't let anyone have more power then him. She had given up. Until she heard about the plan. Of course, she wasn't supposed to hear it, but she still kept up her nightly wanderings and adventers, (Why did Snow even allow her to?) except by now she knew every nook and corner of this building, and just happened to stumbled upon their conversation. She just happened to hear about a rebellion, and that night when she was staring at herself in the mirror, her long, brown hair to about her waist and her bright greens eyes no longer holding the sparkle they used to, she sat on the bed and cried.
She wasn't sure why she was crying. Some of it was happiness, joy that Panem might actually get out of this horrid ruling. Some was sorrow, because what if the rebellion DIDN'T work, and everything just went back to how it was, and some as just remembering, remembering her mother, her sister, her darling brother who had turned into a drunk.
She had pictures of them in her room, and that was why she never allowed Haymitch in. He had tried before, but she never let him. She talked to him outside her room or not at all. But she was sobbing so loudly, that she didn't hear the door open, she didn't her Haymitch walk into her room, looking in awe at the pictures that adorned her walls and the hologram of the woods from 12 on her window. "Who are you?" He asked roughly, shaking her from her sobs. 'Where's Effie?"
"Oh you don't get it do you." She muttered, wiping tears away furiously. "When I said to not to come in my room I meant it. Now get out! Get out you god-damned drunk! I don't want you in here, you hear me?" She shouted, blinded by rage and tears. He didn't budge. "Effie? Is this seriously what you look like? And where's your accent? It went…away." Relization dawned on his face, and Effie noticed, surprisingly, that he seemed quite sober. "Effie. Effie Effie Effie. My mom used to talk about a girl named Effie. A girl that went missing. A sister. I never gave it much thought until now."
Closing her eyes, she let one last tear slip down her cheek before pointing towards the door. "Good luck with your plan Haymitch. I hope it works. Really. I do."
She was so glad she'd told him. Maybe he didn't hate her now, but you never know. So as she lay on the ground, the bombs burning her alive, she was glad she hadn't dressed up today. Even though she had to die, at least she could still be her.
As her eyes drifted shut, she could see people, one that looked like her mom, the other like her sister, and one of them looked extremely like Prim. Stretching her arms out, she let her mother hug her and stroke her hair, tears running down her cheeks. Finally, after so many years, she was home.