I do not own 'The Hunger Games' or anything related.
A note before I start the story. When I first started this, I wanted the structure to resemble 'The Hunger Games', hence why the chapters do not have titles other than their number. However, I have found that this makes it hard to navigate the story, and now that it's more than 27, I've decided to give all future chapters 'nicknames'.
I fell head first into the river. As I fell in, different threats and memories passed me by: the deer as well as the other mutts, the tributes, both enemy and district and neutral, and as Maysilee passed me by, so did my loved ones at home. My younger brother Larie was screaming my name. Startled, I stood up, slashing my knife at whatever nightmare sought its vengeance against me. I was barely aware of myself screaming. As I calmed down, I realised that I was not in the river in the arena, or even the arena itself, and those I saw were long gone. I was actually in my kitchen. I must have passed out again. I also realised that I was soaking wet, but I didn't know how that could have happened. Unless someone had poured water on me – I frowned. Oh I should have known. Looking around, I saw Katniss perched on a window sill, as if readying herself to flee.
"What are you doing?" I sputtered.
"You told me to wake you up," Was her answer.
I suddenly remembered. That's right. Today's the tour day, when the victor of the hunger games starts their tour travelling around Panem to every district before the Capitol. I did tell her to wake me up when the time came. Course, I didn't tell her to give me pneumonia!
"Why am I wet?"
"Couldn't shake you awake."
In her defence, she had probably already tried waking me up the traditional way, finding that it was no use. It took a whole unit of peacekeepers to wake me up every year. Splashing water on me was probably a last resort.
"Look, if you wanted to be babied, then maybe you should have asked Peeta-"
"Ask me what?"
She froze. I could tell she didn't expect him to be in the same building. He placed a loaf of fresh bread on the table, holding out his hand for my knife.
"Asked to give me pneumonia," I joked, handing it to him.
Taking off my shirt, I used the dry part to wipe myself. Peeta doused the knife in a bottle of white liquor and used it to cut the bread. I used to have not much need for bread. Most of what I consumed was alcohol and what little food I ate had a tendency of coming up, but I didn't mind. I knew he needed to do it. It was his way of dealing with the trauma of the Hunger Games. At least it was healthier than mine! Mind you, the girl also made sure that I was well supplied as well, although with a different stock, though that was more for her own reasons as well. See, there are times when I ran out of stock and the white liquor hasn't arrived, and it was one evening I was invited to Katniss and her family's new house that it happened. The family was busily chatting – I don't remember what it was about – but I was remarking how much their new house looked like mine. Course, that's not too surprising, given that the houses were made identical, but even inside. It was then that I noticed the floor, and it reminded me of my own kitchen floor, where I saw the bodies of my loved ones lying there with gun holes through their heads, brain matter splattered across the floor, their wide eyes staring at me, as if accusing me. I wasn't paying attention to what the family was saying, as I continued to stare at the bodies. And if that wasn't bad enough, they then got up, walking towards me, their fingers pointing at me. I backed out of my chair, screaming, backing away until I reached the wall, huddled against it, my face buried within my arms, shaking, hoping that the revenants would go away.
I think I scared Katniss' little sister, Prim. No. I know I did. So since then Katniss has made sure that I never run out. Hmm. So Peeta keeps me stocked with bread, while Katniss keeps me stocked with alcohol. I wondered if this was what it was like to have kids. I never had any, you see. After what had happened to my loved ones, I knew there was no way I was gonna part with the alcohol, so I couldn't have a family. Well, I could have, but I didn't want to end up being the kind of husband who beat up his wife or terrified his children, even hurting them too, causing them to resent me. But I guessed this was an upside of having children. Someone to look after you in your old age. Even though I wasn't that old! I was barely forty, but I felt older. Much older. Course, I knew they weren't my kids. Besides, they had their own families, their own parents, although Katniss had lost her old man a few years back, but I wouldn't dare be a replacement. Besides, I wouldn't be that good a parent. Peeta I got along with, but Katniss…we always seemed to be at each other's throats. But maybe that was because we were so alike…. That said, if I did have kids, I would imagine them to be like- well…
After handing me the heel of bread, Peeta gave a rare look to Katniss.
"Would you like a piece?" He asked rather formally.
"No, I ate at the hob, but thank you," She replied with her own formal voice that didn't sound like her.
"You're welcome," He replied stiffly.
I looked between them.
"Brr. You two have a lot of warming up to do before showtime," I joked.
When the tour began, and the cameras start rolling, the audience will be expecting to see a happy pair so very much in love as opposed to a pair of teenagers who couldn't stand to be in the same room as each other. It's my fault, really. See, while I was interviewing Peeta, he had accidentally let it slipped that he liked the girl. Considering my options, I seized upon the situation, that Peeta would confess his love for Katniss. Mind you, I only meant to increase focus on my pair, to assure them sponsors, and if I was lucky, to shame the capitol for making a pair of love birds to fight to the death.
The problem was it worked too well. Everyone started calling them the star-crossed lovers, wondering if Katniss reciprocated the boy's love. It proved to be so popular that the game makers even changed the rules, allowing for two victors if they came from the same district. Mind you, it was just a trick, as by the time they were the only victors left they rescinded the amendment, claiming that after re-reading the rules it wasn't allowed. It backfired on them, though, as Katniss and Peeta threatened to eat some poisonous berries called nightlocke, so that the Hunger Games would be left with no victor, a result which itself was disastrous. They had barely put the nightlocke in their mouths when it was announced that they were both victors. Course, that was potentially disastrous itself, as the Capitol does not like being made fools of, something I knew all too well. Thankfully, though, Katniss and Peeta managed to convince the Capitol audience that what they did was purely out of love, driven to suicide by the thought of losing the other, with a little coaching from me. The only drawback was that Peeta had no idea the trouble they were in, so while his expression of love was genuine, the girl's, well….
I bore little thought to the fact that I was toying with the emotions of two adolescents. My primary concern at the time was to do everything to keep at least one of them alive, and worry about the consequences later. Well, now I was dealing with the consequences! When I said it worked too well, that also included the boy as well, who had become convinced from Katniss's words, her outward affection, her willingness to do everything to keep him alive, even at the cost of her own life, that she had come to love him as well. And when he found out that she was faking it-
Heartbroken didn't seem too strong a word.
I couldn't help but feel guilty. After all, Katniss was only following my instructions, deciphering them from the gifts I sent and the times I didn't send any. I know everything I did was to give at least one of them the best chance of survival and even though if I had to make every decision all over again I would…
I can still remember the look on Peeta's face after his discovered Katniss's deception, and my part in it.
That said, I could tell from the constant supply of bread he gave me that he had forgiven me. He probably understood that what I did was to keep them alive, and so felt obligated to repay me for saving his life. I just wish he could forgive the girl as well. It seemed unfair, to continue to punish Katniss when he had forgiven me, when Katniss only did what I told her to do.
"Take a bath, Haymitch," Katniss tells me, before fleeing out of the window after all.
I looked at Peeta, and I could still see the pain on his face was as clear as ever. I wanted to tell him that he was being unfair, that everything Katniss did was to keep him alive, that she was only following my instructions, and that he shouldn't punish her for that, and to remind him that as the capitol are expecting a happy pair then he should forgive her already!
But I knew there would be no point of that, that whatever rational reason Katniss and I had for doing what we did, that didn't change how he felt. He didn't say another word about Katniss, and walked out of there.
Taking Katniss's suggestion, I decided to take a bath. Usually I don't bother to bathe, but since she asked, and she'll know if I had one, I might as well. After all, this was a special occasion! The Victory Tour, the first one for a tribute from District 12 since mine. I can still remember the day.
By noon the reporters, camera people, even my escort Eulalia Charm (Who preferred to be addressed as 'Mrs Charm') will be gathered outside my new house, where I live alone. I used to live with my mother and younger brother, but thanks to my actions in the arena a couple of weeks later they were all shot before my eyes along with my girl, Rachelle. See, I spent the Hunger Games trying to find the edge of the arena, thinking if maybe there was something there I could use. Eventually I got there, and found that there was a force field surrounding the arena, one where anything that hit it would be sent back up. I used this knowledge to help me survive, so that when it came down to the two of us, my opponent flung her axe at me but it went over the edge, and she didn't know what I knew about the force field, so wasn't prepared for it coming back. It came back and arrived in her head.
The thing is, the Capitol didn't like that. They didn't like that I used something the game makers never intended to be used, and as punishment for making them look foolish, they killed everyone I loved.
Well, not everyone. There was one person they missed out on. My best friend, Mel, but I was so terrified of anything happening to him because of me that I drove him away.
It's ironic, really. What motivated me to survive at any cost was to get back to my loved ones, and they ended up paying the price of my actions.
If it was up to me, I wouldn't be going on this tour. I would remain home, drinking my sorrows to the best of my ability, until the time came when I had to sober up in order to help the next sorry person survive the Hunger Games (Even though I wasn't up for that, either). It's funny, really. Six months ago, I wouldn't have dared touch a drop of alcohol. My experiences with my alcoholic old man had exposed me to the trouble it caused, and the drinking habits of my mentor, or rather my so called mentor Ray Wallace, hadn't really changed my mind, nor how I saw numerous people on camera, generally victors, getting drunk and making fools of themselves. And yet now I couldn't imagine getting through one day sober.
It was hard to believe what my life had become, when six months ago, everything seemed so much brighter. I remember the training arriving at the station, unable to wait to see everyone I cared about. When I got there, I was amazed at the crowd that had gathered, clapping, cheering, chanting my name. It seemed everyone at District 12 had come to welcome me home. It was surprising, considering that before I wasn't exactly the most popular person in the district. I didn't get along with my class mates and I certainly didn't get along with the teachers. It also didn't help that I was the son of the town drunk, or there were rumours that I had murdered him. But then again it had been forty years since anyone in District 12 had won a hunger games. And then I saw them. Ma, with Larie next to her. Rachelle, and Mel. I walked towards them, breaking into a run. I first came to Rachelle, giving her a huge kiss as I held her in my arms. I ignored the whoops from my school mates. Then I hugged Larie, thanking him for being the man of the house while I was gone, before hugging Ma, who held me tightly. I could feel the tears dripping down my neck. After she let go, I gave Mel a huge, manly hug, each of us patting the other. Looking over his shoulder, I noticed three families in the crowds. One of them was the family that owned the sweet shop. The other two were seam, but I knew who they all were. They were the families of the tributes that didn't come home.
I felt the need to go to them, to say something. I knew the cameras were still on me, and that it was probably best not to give them my condolences while it was being displayed publicly, but I felt that I needed to give them as soon as possible. Losing myself in the crowd, I came between the two seam families. I didn't know which was whose family though.
"I'm sorry, for your loss," I told them, "Even though I only really knew Mat and Leslie for a few weeks, they seemed like good kids. It was tragic the way they died."
Even though I knew they didn't make it through the first day, and I suspected they died in the bloodbath, it was only when I watched the footage at the end that I learnt how it happened. Leslie was quickly dispatched by one of the female careers from 1, getting shot in the head with an arrow (This career later fell victim to the volcanic eruption that later occurred in the games. Despite her screams as she succumbed to the liquid fire, I wasn't sorry she was dead). Her death at least was quick, compared to Mat. Although he last the longest in the bloodbath, a career from 2, the same career that I ended up killing (Whose name I learnt was Cassius), strangled him to death. I felt less guilty about cocking up my intended quick kill of him after I saw this.
Smiling, still crying, the parents nodded. Then I turned to Maysilee's family. This was the one I was looking forward to the least.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I told her parents, "Maysilee was a great ally. And a great friend. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her."
Maysilee's parents, like Mat's and Leslie's smiled and cried as they nodded. It was then I wanted to give it to them. I didn't think it was right to wear it in public, for the cameras, for all of Panem to see. It was different during the final interview. Taking it out of my jacket pocket, I gave Maysilee's mockingjay pin to her parents.
"I know I had no right to take it. I just didn't want anyone to get their hands on it."
Maysilee's mother took it.
"We understand. Thank you for looking after it."
"Wh-what good is a pin?"
I turned to glance at Maysilee's sister. I had tried to avoid looking like her, given that she looked so much like her.
"I want my sister back! I want my twin! She's the one who should have come back, not you!"
"That's enough!" Her father snapped at her, causing her to become silent.
It was strange. She looked so much like Maysilee, yet she was so different.
"Thank you, Haymitch," Her father told me, "For looking after her. As best as you could."
"Honestly, she was the one looking after me."
I did the best to hold back the tears.
During the banquet, where all these very important people were invited to, all I could think about the tributes that didn't come home, and their grieving families. Especially Maysilee's. But afterwards, we moved into our new home. Despite the pain in the past, it looked like we would have a bright future.
Then the nightmares came.
I can still remember them. The enemy tributes, the squirrel mutts. I was thrashing against them, aware of people trying to hold me down.
"No, no, NO!"
My hand breaking free of one of the grasps I struck one of my assailants.
"HAYMITCH!"
I recognised the voice. It was my Ma. What was Ma doing in the arena? It took me a moment to calm down before I realised that I wasn't in the arena. I was in my new bed. A dream. It was just a nightmare. I was no longer in the arena. It seemed my screams must have alerted her to come to my aid, along with Larie, who staring at me, clutched the side of his face.
I raised my shaking hand up, and saw the reddish mark where I struck him with.
I hit my little brother.
