Because chapter 1 wasn't very long, here's chapter 2!
"Alright, I'm coming!"
Haymitch yelled out of his open bedroom window, wrestling with the tangled shirt he was trying to put on. A quick glance at his bedside clock told him it was shortly before 11am. The knocking persisted despite Haymitch's acknowledgement that he'd heard the door. He stumbled across his bedroom, knocking down several empty liquor bottles in the process. Swearing loudly, he made his way down the stairs.
"I heard you the first fifteen damn times!" Haymitch shouted as he ripped open the front door.
He was greeted by the sight of a young boy, no older than 15, who stood on the porch holding an envelope in his shaking hand.
"Are you kidding me?" Haymitch said, exasperated. "There's a damn mailbox next to my gate! Leave it there, boy!"
"Mr. Abernathy," the boy spoke. "Miss. Trinket specifically requested this be given directly to you. She says you very rarely check your mailbox."
So Effie had replied, Haymitch thought.
"Could have put it under my door," Haymitch grumbled, snatching the envelope and pressing a coin into the boy's hand. "For your trouble. Now get off my porch."
Haymitch had slammed the door again before the boy had even reached the front gate. He threw the letter down on the coffee table and headed to the liquor cabinet for his first drink of the day.
He'd like to say he'd cut down on the drinking since the Rebellion ended, but he'd be lying. In fact, it had increased. His nightmares about his Games were now mixed with disturbing images of the children dying in the City Circle the day the rebels dropped those parachutes. Alcohol was even more so his only distraction.
Haymitch forgot about the letter until three hours later when he returned from building a new larger enclosure for his geese. He'd bought two more, taking the flock up to six. He found them pretty simple to look after. They cleaned themselves. They kept themselves amused. They were free to roam his back garden during the day. All he needed to do was feed them, let them out in the morning then herd them back into their pen at night. That left plenty of time to drink himself into unconsciousness.
He took a shower before sitting down on the sofa, not bothering to change out of the shirt he'd been wearing since the day before. It was then when he spotted the sealed envelope on the coffee table, addressed to "Mr. H. Abernathy".
Unlike Effie, Haymitch wasnt hesitant in opening the letter. He'd waited two weeks for her repky.
Little did he know, Effie had written and rewritten her reply several times and pondered over whether to send it for many days.
It was almost 3 years to the day since he'd left her in 13. Himself and Plutarch had laid out plans to break the captured rebels from the Capitol Prison on the Saturday morning. Rebel soldiers from 13 began their assault on the prison at 5am while Haymitch watched from the control room of the hovercraft, deemed unfit to partake in any combat. By 7am, the prison was declared safe for the rebels to enter. While the rest of the soldiers split into teams to rescue Peeta, Annie and Johanna, Haymitch headed off with two soldiers in search of Effie. He had no idea what pulled him towards her rescue. He perhaps felt he owed her for all the times she'd cared for him when his drinking got the better of him.
He had to resist the urge to vomit when he found her. She lay on her back on the floor of her cell, barely breathing. Through her thin nightgown, Haymitch could see her ribs jutting painfully outwards. Her arms, legs and back were bloodied with various cuts and wounds. Her hair was matted and her right foot was twisted at an unsightly ankle. Haymitch wasted no time in gathering her in his arms and carrying her to the waiting hovercraft, repeatedly telling her she was safe. As soon as they boarded, she was sedated.
Haymitch stayed by her side day and night for the first week of her stay in the hospital of 13. She was sedated, so he couldnt chat to her or insult her like he normally would. On the Thursday, they began to reduce her sedative drugs. On the Friday, the last night Haymitch saw her, Effie spoke in her sleep. She uttered Haymitch's name. For some reason, Haymitch had bolted and never returned. He had never, to this day, known why. And he had never forgiven himself or had the guts to talk to her. Until two weeks ago when he sent that letter. Yet here he was, holding her reply.
He slid his thumb under the flap of the envelope, extracted the paper then began to read her neat pink penmanship.
"Dear Haymitch,
I was astounded to receive your letter. It's been quite a long time since we communicated, so naturally I was taken aback.
I'm very pleased to hear you're raising geese. I hope you're dividing your time between your geese and the Mellarks rather than just drinking. How is your drinking, might I ask?
I'm doing rather well. I've been working with children injured in the war for the past year. Rehabilitation and suchlike. It's a very worthwhile career path, I believe. Remember all those times you told me I didnt care about our Tributes? Well, this is me, proving you wrong.
Hoping you are well,
Euphemia"
Euphemia? Haymitch pondered over when he'd ever referred or been required to call her Euphemia over the 7 years they worked together. He'd only ever heard it when she introduced herself to sponsors. To people she wasnt familiar with. He concluded his relationship with Effie was no longer the almost friendship they shared before the rebellion. he would accept the formality for now.
Haymitch picked up his pen and scrawled his reply.
I hope that chapter came out okay! I had the entire thing typed in a writing app on my phine, yet it deleted the enfire thing when I tried to copy it...so i had to rewrite it out here on my phone...sorry for any spelling errors!
Feel free to leave a review, I love reading them :)
