Over the past few days, things have only gone from bad to worse. I've tried to stay upbeat, but to be honest, I can't anymore. Katniss and Peeta seem to be doing their best to get a rise out of Snow and it's working. Since this Quarter Quell was announced, everything has just gone wrong.
The day of the training scores was particularly bad; it was the only time I broke since that night on the train. It was not just realising that the tributes are prepared to throw everything away, but the way they are willing to do it.
I can understand them being mad, but you do not show up the Gamemakers. Not like that. Katniss reminding everyone of Seneca's death… it was brash and risky. She will most likely pay for that in the arena - especially with the score they gave her.
I can't help thinking who else might meet a similar end because of what she did.
I take a shaky breath and try to remain composed. Tonight's the night of the interviews and there are cameras everywhere - now is not the time to get emotional.
The crowd is excited, and to be honest, if I wasn't so much a part of the games, I would probably be eager too. This is one of the biggest events in our history and it's easy to get caught up in the drama if you don't know what's really going on. But I know that tonight is vital; it will either help to subdue the whisperings of unrest in the districts, or just add fuel to the fire.
Eventually the lights go down and the interviews begin. Haymitch is rigid beside me, very different from so many years previous when he's been pretty much laying down in his seat. As far as I know, there's not a drop of alcohol in his system.
This reinforces my anxiety.
Everything starts off in the same way as usual, with Brutus and Enobaria chatting to Caesar like regular Careers. However as time progresses, the tension begins to build.
It is clear that the victors are very angry with the whole situation, but they are clever about what they say. Their words have such power, and before long the crowd is completely at their mercy. It seems the people didn't realise quite how attached they are to their victors. Now, as they see them sat on the stage, questioning the validity of being sent to almost certain death, they've changed their minds. Some shout, some cry, some actually faint when Finnick appears. The tributes have played Snow at his own game and practically commandeered the crowd.
As the interviews roll on, I feel more and more nervous. My whole body is shaking. I look over at Haymitch, who is still sat bolt upright, his eyes fixed on Seeder as she finishes her interview.
We have hardly spoken since that night on the train, only in front of the tributes really. It was a lapse, a one off, or at least that's what I tell myself. But as Chaff mounts the stage I make a choice.
Ordinarily I wouldn't be so bold, but what with everything else that's happened, I don't hesitate as I slide my hand into his and link our fingers. His lips tighten slightly, but I can't tell if it's because of me or because he is currently watching his oldest friend walk across the stage to discuss his own death.
I've never seen Haymitch as a comforting person, yet now, as I sit with my hand in his, I breathe a little easier. I don't know why, but I think he is the only person I could feel safe with at the moment. It feels right to seek help from him, to confide in and reach out to him. Because we know each other. I know what he's like, how he thinks. I know he'll always be there. If I've learned anything, it's that I can trust him.
I almost feel bad for being so totally reliant on him, but he doesn't push me away. Maybe because, right now, he needs someone too. As scared as I am, I can't imagine how difficult this is for him. Despite what he thinks, he still has people he can lose.
Chaff's interview is over fairly quickly but by the time Katniss is introduced, the audience is in a terrible state. The sight of her in her wedding dress just about pushes them over the edge.
This is it.
As Caesar tries to quiet the crowd, my eyes lose focus. I grip Haymitch's hand tighter and he squeezes mine in return, but I can't seem to concentrate on anything. Katniss says something about the wedding, the dress, but I don't hear it. She begins to spin in her gown and at first I think it's my vision going as I start seeing black clouds rise up around her. But it's not me.
Her dress is on fire.
Except it's not. Black smoke fills the air and pearls fall to the floor, rolling off the stage as the dress dissolves. Some people in the audience scream. I probably would if I wasn't so stunned. It's only when she stops turning that I see what she has become.
Cinna has turned her into a mockingjay. This doesn't mean much to me but the change in Haymitch is unmistakeable. He glances sharply at Cinna and grasps my hand much tighter. Cinna doesn't notice though because he's bowing to the crowd, who are thrilled if slightly puzzled.
I don't understand what's happened, but by the look on Haymitch's face, I know it's significant. It can't be good.
As the audience calms down, Peeta takes his place next to Caesar. For the majority of his interview I barely listen. Peeta has always got on well with Caesar so there's nothing to worry about really and right now they're just picking up from where Katniss left off, talking about the wedding that won't come.
I can't stop thinking about Katniss' dress, the mockingjay, and what it could stand for. How bad can it be? I keep glimpsing at Haymitch, trying to get his attention as he obviously knows what this is about, but he doesn't look back. I begin to feel very uneasy.
There's a small laugh from the audience that brings me to my senses. What's going on? I try to focus on Peeta's words.
"Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?" he asks.
"I feel quite certain of it," Caesar replies.
The audience is silent – completely enthralled. What does he mean, 'keep a secret'?
"We're already married." Peeta says quietly.
What? They got married?!
Much like me, everyone is completely astonished by Peeta's words. I look to Haymitch, confused. He gives me a similar perplexed look, so I assume this is news to him too.
As Caesar carries on questioning Peeta, trying to get some details, sadness overcomes me.
Their story is so tragic; they never get to just be together. They have had everything taken from them. Now I can almost understand why they acted the way they did during training.
"I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together." Caesar says. I suppose that is true. Applause erupts around us but Peeta still looks sad. A shot of Katniss shows us that she too has tears in her eyes.
"I'm not glad. I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially." Peeta sounds like he's about to cry. What does he mean?
"Surely even a brief time is better than no time?" Caesar asks, as surprised as the rest of us.
"Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," says Peeta cuttingly, "if it weren't for the baby."
It takes a second for me to process this information, but then everything recedes as the appalling, horrific words sink in.
An icy sensation takes hold in my stomach and I fight the urge to scream.
I forget where I am, who I am.
It can't be true, can't be.
This can't happen.
Suddenly, I am pulled to my feet. Before I can protest, Haymitch has led me out of the stands. No one notices us leave, the Peacekeepers too preoccupied with the wailing crowd to see us slip away.
He leads me further and further beneath the building until we come to an area completely devoid of life. I feel sick.
He turns abruptly, grabbing me by the shoulders.
"It's time," he says.
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. How has everything gone so badly wrong in such a short space of time?
"Did you hear me Effie?" He asks, a little less intense. When I don't answer, he moves me, sitting me down on something so I can lean against the wall.
I can't think… I can't get past the terrible images in my mind.
"She's not…?" It's all I can get out.
When he doesn't say anything, I try to find a way to focus on his face. Eventually I meet his tortured eyes.
"I don't know," he says, defeated.
"Oh god," I whisper, covering my face with my hands.
I can't be a part of this. I won't.
It's inhuman.
"Effie, look at me." I feel his hands on my wrists; gently uncovering my face. He's bent down to my level. "There's no time." He sounds almost desperate. As if to prove his point, the anthem starts up above us, signalling the end of the interviews.
"Surely they can't still go ahead with this." I gasp, appalled. His face is like thunder.
"Have they ever cancelled the Games before, sweetheart?" There's an almost sarcastic edge to his voice. Is he angry with me?
I refuse to meet his eyes. If he didn't have hold of me, I would move away completely.
"No… but isn't this different?" I ask doubtfully.
He sighs tiredly.
"The only reason people care is because they feel like they own that baby too." I wonder if this is a dig at me, or just Capitol people in general. He can't be cruel enough to start this now can he?
"It's just one more innocent child, one more life taken. And it's not something Snow hasn't done a thousand times before," he continues. "I know it's awful," he says slowly, "but really, it's nothing new."
I suppose he's right. The cold, hard truth and yet knowing this doesn't make anything easier.
It's all inhuman.
At first he waits for me to respond, but when I say nothing he lets go of my hands. I think that he's irritated with me, that he's going to walk off and leave me down here. Fine. I'm not going back anyway.
"I want you to take this." I look up just in time to see him move a gold bangle out from under the cuff of his left sleeve. The flame bracelet that I got him.
I reach out to it, winding it around and around on his wrist. The fact that Haymitch is wearing it means more than he could ever say in words.
"Why?" I ask as he unfastens it.
There's a pause.
He doesn't look up as he clips it into place on my arm, pulling my sleeve to cover it.
"Just promise me you'll keep it on," he murmurs, almost silent. He's still looking down.
I stare at him for slightly too long, trying to search his face for something that will tell me what he's thinking. His eyes meet mine and I find myself getting lost. I can see his pain, his sadness, but there's something else there… knowledge? Need?
"Okay," I agree without thinking.
"Okay," he says resolutely, standing. I don't know what significance a simple bracelet can possibly have but he seems slightly relieved.
"Time to go sweetheart."
No.
No, I want to tell him to stop, that I won't go; I can't be a part of this.
But the words don't come.
He starts to walk off but I don't move. He comes back and takes my hand, gently but firmly leading me up the stairs. I follow mindlessley, like a child.
As we arrive back in the lobby, it becomes apparent that all hell has broken loose. There are people everywhere; crying, screaming, shouting. Peacekeepers try to shove through the crowd but they don't make much progress. The anthem is still blaring. We stand and watch as more and more people flood out of the – now dark - stalls, followed by yet more Peacekeepers.
I clutch Haymitch's arm tightly as he begins to push through the people. We're about halfway to the elevators when two Peacekeepers accost us.
"All citizens have to return to their homes." One of them says. I stare at his eyes beneath his helmet. They show no emotion, absolutely none. No compromise. I know he's telling me to do something significant, but I can't process what he says. Everything seems to be in slow motion.
"Move." He commands sharply, obviously fed up of me staring at him. The other one grabs me by my upper arm, pulling me. As I stumble, I lose my grip on Haymitch. He steps forward but the first Peacekeeper moves to block him.
"Mentors must go back to the training centre." He states curtly. Haymitch stares the Peacekeeper down, eyes blazing and, for a moment, I'm scared he'll do something rash and get us into trouble. But I should know he's too clever to do anything like that, and after a minute, he turns back to me.
The fire is gone and his eyes are just empty grey once more.
"I'll call you." He promises. He looks at the guards for a second longer before turning swiftly and walking away from me.
The force increases on my arms as they march me out of the building. I try to retain my dignity, keep my head up, but the pressure is more than unpleasant. I glance back to where Haymitch was, but I can't see him anymore.
He's gone.
A strangled sound escapes me and it takes all my energy to stay upright, never mind maintain the pace of the two Peacekeepers.
"Hurry up." One of them orders, blatantly rearranging his gun so it points in my direction. I try to breathe normally, but end up gasping sharply as his fingers dig further into me.
They bundle me into a car, another Peacekeeper waiting inside. The doors lock as soon as I get in.
The usually short journey takes a long time, people and traffic everywhere, blocking the roads. I hardly notice though. I twirl Haymitch's bracelet absently on my wrist as I try not to think about everything.
His face before he turned away. Peeta's tears. Katniss' dress. Johanna, Beetee, Finnick. Seeder, Cecelia, Chaff. Cinna. Rue. The baby.
Inhuman.
Eventually the car pulls up at my apartment block and the new Peacekeeper walks me right up to my front door.
"This building is on lockdown," he says threateningly, looming over me. Very deliberately, he places a hand on his gun. "You cannot leave your apartment." He speaks extremely slowly, as if I'm a moron.
He wants a response on my part, but I just stare back, giving him no such satisfaction as I shut the door in his face. I don't care about manners; I'm sick of being treated like a criminal. What have I done? I'm sick of this place.
I wearily make my way to the bedroom, switching on the television as I pass. I remove all traces of the day from my face, and as I change out of my dress, I'm not at all surprised to find small, round bruises already forming on my upper arms.
Finally I go back to the lounge. On the way, I move silently towards the front door, peering out of the little window to confirm my suspicions. The peacekeeper is still right outside.
I sigh, defeated, as I turn my attention to the news programme. The woman on the screen informs me calmly that people must remain in their homes until further notice. We must not panic.
Everything is normal.
At this last statement I surprise myself by laughing shortly. For the first time I can see my ridiculous existence for what it really is.
Sometime later, I come to on the sofa, woken by the ringing phone. I stumble over, grasping for the receiver before I can even consider that it's not him.
It has to be. He promised.
"Haymitch?" I ask immediately. My voice is thick, but I can't tell if it's from tension or sleep. I feel numb.
"Hey sweetheart," he breathes. I feel relief flood over me as I finally get to hear his voice. I just need someone on my side, someone to help me figure out what to do.
It's still dark outside but the television has switched itself off, so I must've been out for a while. "What time is it?" I ask, disorientated.
There's some movement on his end. "Four?" he finally replies, not at all certain. I'm pretty sure he's been drinking heavily all night, but now is not the time to bring that up. The next few days don't look good for any of us and this is just his way of dealing with it. I don't care anyway - he kept his promise to me and, drunk or not, Haymitch is all I have right now.
"You got home alright?" he asks slowly. He's looking for details but I don't know how much I should mention. Is anyone bothering to monitor us right now? It wouldn't surprise me if they are. I don't think I'm being guarded arbitrarily.
"Yeah," I try to sound relieved. "I mean it took a while but the Peacekeepers escorted me the whole way…" I don't know what else to say without outright stating that there is a man with a gun on the other side of my door, ready to shoot me if I try to leave.
"Yeah I don't think it'd be… safe to go back out there," he's so quick on the uptake, "what with all the crowds still around" he adds. I know he gets it.
"No, that wouldn't be a good idea," I hurry to agree.
There's quite a lengthy silence and I find that when I'm not talking, the evening's events play over and over in my head. I need him to distract me. A thought comes to the forefront of my mind, and I remember that I have a question for him.
"What does the mockingjay mean?" I ask. Too late I realise that was probably not the best direction to go in. Still, I'm curious as to how he will respond. He knows something.
I swear I hear him sigh on the other end of the phone.
"Nothing," he finally replies. "I don't think it means anything, it was just a showy costume change." He speaks with such a lack of conviction; he must know I don't buy it. I leave it there though, hoping that if anyone is listening, they deem his slurred words as believable.
"I thought so," I say dismissively.
It's a long time before he finally speaks again. He sounds hollow.
"Katniss and Peeta... they send their love."
It's like I've been hit in the chest. All the air leaves my lungs as I try desperately to avoid the pain again. I've only just managed to get myself under control.
The games start tomorrow. They've caused a lot of trouble for the Capitol. Snow wants them dead.
After the last few days, there's no doubt in my mind that they'll pay for everything ten times over. All he has to do is flick a switch and it'll be finished. They're not coming back this time.
Haymitch and I won't be allowed near each other for fear that we might discuss strategy to help them and I'm pretty much under house arrest at the moment.
"I'm not going to see them again am I?" I ask despairingly.
I almost want Haymitch to lie to me, tell me I'm being silly and there is still a chance. But he's not one to give false hope, and he knows I'm no fool.
"No."
No.
I knew that anyway, but it doesn't help.
I never got to tell them how sorry I am.
I don't know what to say now. There isn't anything really, but I don't want him to go. Chances are this will be the last conversation we have until the next games come around. I doubt I'll be permitted to leave home until Katniss and Peeta are 'dealt with', by which time Haymitch will be on the first train back to District 12, drunk out of his mind.
This will be the worst one to watch, for me and for him. The hardest part and, for the first time, I will be alone throughout it.
"Effie," he starts, unsure. I don't know how long it's been since I last spoke.
"I'm still here," I tell him.
He hesitates.
"You are going to watch the games aren't you?"
"Of course…" I say, not sure what he's getting at. It will be unbearable, but it's not exactly optional; he knows I have to watch it.
I hear him sigh again. I wish I could see him, try to read in his expression what he can't tell me in words.
"Good," he says stiffly. I hear a noise in the background. "I have to go now." He says with a hard voice. I can tell his teeth are clenched.
"Okay," I whisper. "I guess I'll see you next time." My throat is too tight.
There's nothing but silence for a long time. I'm just about convinced he's already hung up, but when he finally speaks, his voice seems too far away.
"Yeah."
Then the line cuts off.
I glance out of the door again before going to bed. There's a different Peacekeeper there now, so I guess they're taking shifts guarding me until the games finish.
This is it then.
I twirl the flame bracelet around and around, hoping it will help me get through the next few days alone.
