DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES, NONE OF THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED IN THE BOOK
AN: Hello everyone~! This is my first story for fanfiction, so I would love to get reviews! I had this story idea after reading Mockingjay for the second or third time. Haymitch said that everyone he loved was dead in two weeks, so I thought it'd be fun to use my imagination to come up with their deaths. Sorry for the shortness of it ^^"
Haymitch sat at his table in his house in the Victors' Village. It was obvious he'd been crying.
It was two weeks since he'd become victor of the 50th Hunger Games. Since his stunt with the force field, everyone he loved was dead.
His mom, who was walking out late at night, had supposedly tripped and cracked her head open. She was dead by morning.
His little brother, who got diagnosed with a rare disease, the kind only the Capitol had access to. He ordered it with a large amount of money, which he now had after becoming a victor. But… it didn't get there in time. He, too, was dead.
He tried breaking his bond with his girlfriend. To keep her safe… no such luck. He had given her a bit of money, since he was a victor. It was cold that night, and her family could finally afford firewood… but since it was their first time, and they supposedly didn't know how to control the fire, it burned their house down. There were no survivors.
Any other of his childhood friends died in a mine accident. All perfectly planned out… perfectly believable… all dead because of him.
His head still on the table, still crying, as his mind formed thoughts of 'If I had died back in the arena… they would still be alive… It's my fault… I killed them…' Some part of his mind knew that President Snow was really the one who killed them, but the human part couldn't help but think it was him.
Normally, sitting here alone in the dark crying… normally someone would come comfort him… but no one would anymore.
'Because I killed them' his mind whispered. Then he crossed into that brief point of insanity that usually came with all this tragedy.
He started to laugh.
At first it was a small snicker, but grew into an all-out insane laugh.
'I killed them! I did it! It was me!' his laughing continued. Then, as if he could communicate to them directly, he thought 'I killed you! I killed you… I did…'
He finally stopped laughing and quickly plummeted into deep depression once again.
At first he didn't know that he had gotten up from the table, let alone left the house, until he found himself in the Hob.
He was about to turn to go back to his house when a stand caught his eye. It was Rippers'. He remembered one of the nights before his Hunger Games. He had tried some alcohol given to him. It wasn't particularly good. But there was this feeling… an escape feeling.
He walked over and bought a bottle of white liquor, the kind he had before the Games.
And that's how he grew into the Haymitch we all know today.