Forever ago, I wrote that one story. Now, people said they wanted me to continue the story and maybe tweak Haymitch's attitude a bit, and I finally got the first book back from the French teacher ((Yes, I let her borrow it.)) and I was thinking of starting from the beginning. If you want me to just stick with the stuff from Mockingjay, just ask 3. Otherwise, I'm working my way backwards to that point, but there may be a pause around Catching Fire because GUESS WHAT? My friend Aliyah has that one XD. So! Going through it starting from the Reaping, ppl! And just to say, I love playing with this man's mind. SO LET US BEGIN.

~Chae

And so came the day of the Reaping. The people from the Capitol took great joy in this, just like a holiday, didn't they? I had watched all of the Reapings from all the other districts, just like a good citizen would. Besides, what else would I do with my time? And now it was our turn. Everyone's televisions would be turned on District 12, the land of coal miners, starvation, and rules that half the people refused to follow.

I took another swig of the vodka I had. Now this was the good stuff. Never ask where the Hob gets these things, just take them and run. Then I considered that perhaps I should be down there, at the reaping. To this day, I was the only living victor in 12, and I wouldn't bother trying to remember the other one. More liquor. And being such, the only victor, it was my job to be the most interesting thing in this desolate district.

It was time to go.

o-o-o

To the surprise of many, I have a minor form of control over myself while intoxicated. It's been going on for too many years now that I drink that stuff like athletes drink water for me to not be able to handle myself. As the most interesting person in the twelfth district, I may as well make a show of myself. The dear mayor had just finished rambling off the name of that one other victor, whose name I still can't recall when I staggered onto the stage.

"A-And! 'ello Panem! 'ow you been do'n today? 't'sa bout time this sho-show-" I had to pause to be sure I was slurring my words correctly, just enough to annoy everyone. "Got started, huh?"

Judging from the faces of my fellow citizens, no one had understood a word of that, and everyone in Panem was probably laughing.

Proud of my accomplishment, I settled down sloppily into my chair. Just for dramatic effect, I reached out to grab Effie Trinket. It looked like a hug, but judging from the way she moved away from me, she knew I was aiming to pull off that wig of hers. Lucky for her, she jumped out of the way and readjusted it for show. The mayor scowled and then frowned; sweat suddenly appearing on his face as he realized how this must look. To draw attention away, the mayor continued on with the program, introducing Effie Trinket.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She continued talking, but these were things I didn't care to hear. There was no chance of the odds being in anyone's favor in this rathole. Where we had no food, barely enough water, and you couldn't trust anyone. If you were in a good enough arena, being in the Games would be the closest to wealth some of us would ever get.

"Ladies first!" Effie eventually spoke loud enough for me to pay any mind. If anything, the woman had a talent for making a show. She lifted her hand high above her head with a pageant smile and then dug down into the clear ball full of names someone always dreaded would be spoken. Everyone drew in a deep breath… Effie was loving the spotlight, as she held her hand in and shuffled the papers around for effect. Then she went to the podium, smoothed out the paper and read the name out clearly.

"Primrose Everdeen!"

No one smiled so widely as Effie, or even close to it for that matter. There were frowns and murmurs and uncertainties throughout the crowd, and even I found myself scowling as I saw the young, blonde haired girl making her way to the stage. She couldn't have possibly been older than twelve, if possible, she would have been younger. Her face had drained, her steps were stiff and mechanical. Her clothes are a bit ruffled, and the look on her face is clearly trying to withhold complete and utter terror.

And suddenly there was a shout. And more and more shouting. Over and over. "Prim! Prim! PRIM!" A taller girl with dark brown hair and grey eyes of the Seam burst through the crowd, and grabbed 'Primrose'. She suddenly pushed the little girl behind her. "I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!"

I was intoxicated beyond the point of alertness, and yet I was completely attentive to this situation. A volunteer? This hadn't happened in… ever. No one ever wanted to participate in a game that certified their death. A volunteer could have defined the word 'rare' in District 12.

Judging from Effie's expression, she really didn't know what to do. Her eyebrows were scrunched in a confused manner and her smile suddenly drew up stiff. She looked at the mayor, then at the rest of the district, and then back to Primrose and the other girl.

"Lovely!" Says Effie Trinket. "But I believe there is a small matter of introducing the Reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one comes forth then we… um… we…?" Effie looked around again, unsure of exactly what 'we' do. She glanced at the mayor once again and he spoke, a grimace newly placed upon his face.

"What does it matter?" He stares at the brown haired girl with an acknowledging look. Perhaps they knew each other. "What does it matter?" He grunted once more, taking his seat as he said, "Let her come forward."

My district knew how to dramatize a scene. No one had spoken a word this whole time. Some people were slack-jawed, others were stoic, and the only sound that could be heard was the screaming of Primrose. "No! No! You can't go!" she continued screeching and holding on to the taller girl in some vain attempt to stop her.

But the older one stays steely-faced, muttering, "Let go."

But she doesn't let go. She doesn't let go until a much older young man lifts her away from the girl's waist, and pulls her back. However she doesn't give up. She keeps screaming and thrashing against him, tears pouring down her face in a way that told everyone right then and there that this, these stupid games, were above and beyond wrong. They were devilish and sadistic, and they were tearing people like this apart. The man mumbled something to the brunette, and then she climbed the steps with a brave face.

"Well bravo!" Effie Trinket, whether she was an air head or simply indulging in the pain the rest of us share at this moment, is still smiling and speaking with an unusual amount of gusto. "That's the spirit of the games!" she moves the microphone over to the new tribute's face. "What's your name?"

I can see the girl swallow. She's struggling to stay strong, but she's good at keeping the face. "Katniss Everdeen."

Effie seems to chuckle at this revelation. "I bet my buttons that was your sister! Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?"

Dumbass.

"Come on everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our new tribute!" she watched the crowd, and to my own surprise, even though I was among them, the crowd watched her. They watched her and did nothing more. Not a single hand came together, not a single cheer left a mouth. The real silence had begun to drift, and that was one of the most rebellious things we could do. This was nothing to celebrate. This was crime. This was murder at the hands of a leader who hid behind no justice.

And then the signs begin. The first one was an older woman, who held a hand up high, then she touched her three middle fingers to her lips, and held it up again. As if it were some sort of power switch, hands all through the crowd rose and rose, and in that moment, I felt like I was the only one who hadn't raised this sign of love, and peace.

I looked at Katniss and could see her resolve being crushed. She pouted, but tried to keep a straight face. Her eyes blinked more than they should, holding tears, and I saw her tightly clenched fists quivering as she tried to stand tall.

It was time to put on one more show for the day, if only for her sake. She was already trying so hard and besides, within twenty four hours she would be my student. We may as well become acquainted.

"Look at her! Look at this one!" I laughed through my slurred screeches, scrambling onto the stage. I threw an arm around her and gave her a rough squeeze, some sort of signal that if she sheds a single tear, all of her chances were dead and gone. Even so, I cackled. "I like her! Lot's of…" Pause for effect… "Spunk!" I yelled.

Everyone who had been so serene seconds ago was suddenly baffled by me once more. Talent, I sure as hell had it.

And now we throw in a rebellious statement.

"More then you!" I stumbled towards the camera, completely aware of how I tripped over my feet. Then I jabbed my finger at the lens and shouted once more, "MORE THAN YOU!"

And now…

I threw myself off the stage, and closed my eyes. The impact was rough, but the job was done. The crowd and the capitol had been entertained.

A photo finish for the most interesting person in District 12.

X.x.X

WAT. I dunno. I like to mess with the mind of Haymitch. I am just all over the place experimenting with him. I do good good? No? kkkkk thnxbai I have to go to math!

~Chae