A/N- I always seem to think my chapters are going to be long but they end up being really short lol. Sorry :( Anyways, sorry for the long wait! I want to say I promise it won't happen again, but I can't be sure of that ): I'll try my hardest though! And reviews help!

Also, I went from Effie's POV to Haymitch's POV, because of a suggestion in one of the reviews. So yeah, I hope I didn't make Haymitch too OOC.

'No.' is the only word Effie knows how to say anymore.

That's not to say she speaks a lot- it's very rare that one hears something come out of Effie Trinket's mouth- but when she does it's always the same syllable. Once, one of the large, beefy men swore they heard her say 'please' before it (it shouldn't have been so hard to believe. After all, Effie had manners) but the others just laughed at him, because their little bitch was almost as mute as an Avox.

If only they could hear her thoughts towards them.

It almost became a routine, their little visits. They would come in, ask if she was going to talk today, and she'd stare right back at them with so much hatred in her eyes that they had to have been able to almost feel it.

Haymitch would be proud of her. "My little hellcat." He'd say.

Then the rest of it would come so fast that she hardly remembered it the next time she'd wake up. The hurt. The screams. The laughter. And then, finally, the darkness. It would engulf her entire being until she felt the pinch of a tiny needle in her arm, and then the life would slowly come back to her.

After about two weeks of this, she realized they were keeping her on the brink of death.

Now it's been what she guesses is three months, and she wishes they would just end it now.

She doesn't know why they don't kill her. It isn't like she tells them anything. Perhaps their sick little minds like seeing her writhe on the ground as they torture her and do unspeakable things to her, things that a lady should not be doing.

But then, Effie isn't a lady anymore. They make sure to remind her of that every time.

It's been a few days since they've come , and she wonders if maybe they're finally letting death take it's toll on her. She doesn't pity herself, it's her fault she's in here. If she would've just been a little bit faster, left the room a little bit quicker.

She can feel death consuming her. Her heartbeat is slowing, her breathes are becoming more ragged. It's only a matter of time, and then it will all be over.

But Effie is not so lucky, and soon she hears the metal clink of the doors and heavy footsteps of several men sound outside her cell.

She wonders if it will ever end.

It's all Haymitch can do not to punch the dumbass "soldiers" that are with him right square in the jaw. They keep stopping to look around, assuring him that they're just making sure nothing harmful is near them.

As if taking a gander at the architecture of the walls is going to do anything to save them.

He's got one thing on his mind, and it's not the Peacekeepers that might be waiting to kill them as they approach the prison in the basement. It's Effie Trinket.

Haymitch is sure she's down here. He's been informed that this is where the Capitol keeps the citizens who rebel against them, but whose tongues might still be of use. The description horrifyingly fits Effie to a tee.

The metal door acting as a barrier between him and Effie is not hard to force open, and he's surprised to see that there are no Peacekeepers on the other side of it. He wastes no time checking the cells. The first is empty, the second contains a man who's rocking back and forth in fetal position in a corner (Haymitch orders the dumbasses to get him out of there), and the third contains something no one should ever have to see.

Blood, dried and wet alike, is splattered through the entire cell. The smell is so awful that not even Haymitch- whose house absolutely reaks- can stand it. Lying in the middle of it all is a petite, blonde woman. She's trembling and uttering something that Haymitch can barely hear.

He doesn't waste any time scooping her up and exiting the cell.

When she finally looks up at him, he barely recognizes her. Gone is the happiness that used to light her bright blue eyes up. It's been replaced with fear and sadness. She's shaking her head and whispering something, and it takes him awhile to realize she's saying "No."

She doesn't know who he is.

"Effie, it's me. It's Haymitch." He's begging her to remember him as he climbs up the stairs, dumbasses in tow. He's almost to the door when he tries to get through to her one more time. "I'm not going to hurt you, Princess."

If he wouldn't have been staring so intently at her, he never would've caught the spark of recognition in her eyes that leaves as quickly as it comes. Then, when they put her on a stretcher and load her into the hovercraft, she goes back to shaking her head and saying the only word she knows how to say.

Haymitch is left standing on the pavement, wondering if he'll ever get his Effie back again.