He can see her. He can almost see her. Baby blue eyes so innocent and young, golden curls of sunshine bouncing as she walks…And then everything goes wrong. The candy pink birds swoop in, their feathers spotted with the crimson blood of the golden haired angel. And it's just oh so ironic because she had just been saying how her absolute favorite color was pink, it's a cruel joke of fate if you ask him. She reaches her hand up and grabbed his. "Haymitch, please…help me." She manages to choke out, but she's not alive long enough to hear the answer. Her eyes fog over just as a single tear slips out of the grey eyed boy's eye. The cannon fires, but the boy doesn't move. "Maysilee, please, you can't leave me, you can't." He says, though he knows it's no use pleading with a dead girl. Suddenly there's a loud sound and…He wakes up.
Haymitch Abernathy sits up on the couch of this God awful train he's riding on, the train that's taking the tributes he's mentoring this year to the capitol to be slaughtered in the horrible thing the capitol calls The Hunger Games. The loud sound had been Dawn, the girl tribute this year, dropping a glass in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry! Did I wake you up? I didn't mean to really I just…was thirsty." She said nervously as if she was afraid Haymitch would go crazy and start throwing things at her. "Your fine, now go to bed." He said in a biting voice to her. She mumbled something and ran off down the hall.
Haymitch rubbed his head. It had been 15 years since his hunger games, and yet he still had those horrible night mirrors that felt so real, too real. He knew there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, so he did what he did best. He drinks. He drinks until Maysilee Donner was just another name. The liquor and the warm glow of the TV are his only friends as he pushes the memories to the back of his mind and slips in to a drunken bliss.