"Haymitch, are you sure about this?"
"Elsa, if my name gets drawn this afternoon, I want to walk into that arena knowing I have someone to fight for." Haymitch smiled, pushing a stray stand of my bright red hair behind my ear.
"Ask me again." I said, smiling at him.
Haymitch knelt on knee and took my left hand. "Elsa Partkin, will you marry me?"
"Yes!" I answered. Haymitch slipped a metal ring on my finger. It wasn't a traditional ring, in fact it was only a piece of metal he had found near the coal mines but I wasn't complaining.
Haymitch stood up and kissed me. "We better get started on that bread ceremony if we want to be married before two." He said, with a grin, when he pulled away.
I stood among the other 16 year old girls, listening to the same things that are repeated every year: the war, the start of the Hunger Games, the procedure. There were only two things that were different this year: I was now married to Haymitch Abernathy, the sarcastic boy from the Seam whose blonde hair was as out of place as a District 12 victor and this year was the second Quarter Quell.
This Quarter Quell called for twice as many tributes.
Haymitch and I both had our names in at least ten times and now our chances at being chosen had risen even more.
The District 12 escort, a demure woman by the name of Almira Wettlen, approaches the microphone and begins the reaping. "Welcome to the fiftieth anniversary and the second Quarter Quell. As you all know, this year, two young ladies and two gentlemen will be selected as tributes from each district. Let us begin and may the odds be ever in your favor." Almira reaches into the reaping ball with the names of the girls and pulls out the first one she touches.
"Poinsettia Quivers." A thirteen year old girl steps forward and takes her place on stage. As she passes me, I can see she is fighting back tears. She is the only child in her family. No one volunteers to take her place.
Almira reaches back into the reaping ball and roots around for a bit before pulling another name. "Elsa Partkin." I hear my mother begin to cry as soon as my name leaves Almira's lips. My parents have already lost a son in the Hunger Games. I force myself to avoid looking at Haymitch even as I take my spot next to Poinsettia. I can say goodbye to him after the Reaping.
I look at my remaining brother, Evers, and I can see the tears streaming down his face. I know he would volunteer for me if he could, just as Elward had volunteered for him.
"And now the boys." Almira pulls out a strip of paper. "Leon Jacks." An eighteen year old boy steps forward. You can tell he is from a merchant family. He has no one volunteer for him either.
Almira reaches into the reaping ball for the last time and pulls out the name of the fourth District 12 tribute. "Haymitch Abernathy."
Now I have no control, I look up into the widened eyes of my husband and my legs tremble as he walks onto the stages.
"Elsa!" I screamed her name, trying to find her. At this point I don't care if any other tributes hear me. I only want to find my wife. "ELSA!"
"Haymitch." I hear her voice calling quietly, far too quietly. I find her on the ground behind a clump of bushes, holding her right thigh with both of her hands. Blood pooling around her body.
"Els-" I begin. I can feel the tears running down my face.
"No, Haymitch. Don't cry."
"Who did this?" I asked, forcing myself to stop crying.
"The girl from District 1." Elsa replied quietly.
"I'll get her, Elsa. I'll get her, sweetheart." I whispered, pushing a stray strand of my wife's bright red hair behind her ear.
"Haymitch, do me one favor, love."
"Anything." I cried, leaning down, not wanting to miss one word.
"Stay alive."