Horror

They left me to live with the horror, the memories. They left me with continuous images running through my mind, dead tribute after dead tribute. They had made me watch the videos through again, cementing it in my mind. It was like some sick minded horror film, filled with blood and guts and gore. But there's no hero in this story, just a tired and traumatized winner. I didn't get the girl, I didn't live happily ever after. I'm not living, just existing, if you opened me up all you would see is death and destruction, horror reflected in me.

Abernathy

They all knew his name. He could hear the screams from the crowds, "Abernathy!", "Haymitch!" "District 12!" He hated it; he remembered when he was just another faceless teenager from District 12. He wanted to go back in time, he didn't care if it meant he was poor and starving, at least he didn't have the nightmares. The games had shot him to fame and fortune, everyone knew everything about him, what his favourite colour was, what he liked to eat. They even knew things that Haymitch didn't know himself! Haymitch just wished he could go back, nameless and faceless.

Years

It had been years. I had been plagued with nightmares for years. In twenty five years, I had sent fifty children to their deaths. In twenty five years I had slowly slid down a downwards spiral, free falling in some places, just slowly drinking the time away. Spending as much time as possible trying to forget what I had to live with. Drinking blurred the images; it made them more bearable to look at or, at least, when I was drunk I didn't give a damn at what I was looking at. Victors had to find a way to cope.

Murder

It was murder. I was knelt here in a growing pool of blood, her blood. Maysilee gripped at my hands, her own were slippery from the blood, I could feel its warm stickiness seeping through my trousers, staining my skin forever red, it could be washed off, but this feeling that I have right now would never go away. It attacked me; churning my stomach, stabbing at my head, screaming murder! It wasn't fair; I had known at least one of us had to die, but why now? Why like this? The Capitol didn't see it as murder, just entertainment.

Insane

People thought he was insane. Drinking and cursing, stumbling around the street. The Capitol had shot him to fame and they hadn't cared where he landed. He was a broken man, haunted by the memories of dying children, screaming for mercy, praying that it wouldn't be them, sobbing their last few days away. He had tried, those first few years, if he could win, what was stopping anyone else from staying alive? But they never survived, he had to watch them perish, he had to walk by the mourning families every day. It could have sent anybody over the edge.

Touch

He woke up screaming, he couldn't help it, out came the sound and his mother came running.

"What is it? What is it?" She knelt down beside his bed and took his hand in hers

"I had a nightmare, I-" He was cut short by a sob escaping his mouth, his mother pulled him into a hug, gently rocking him as more tears slid down his face. She murmured comforting words in his ear, and when he was finished, she lay him back down and tucked him in.

Haymitch was never touched like that anymore, he had no one now.

Children

Haymitch would never have children for a multitude of reasons. No one would want to marry him; he was just the drunk victor, good for a laugh at the reaping ceremonies, a bit of comic relief. The amount of alcohol he managed to drink each day had severely lowered his chances of ever having a child. But the main factor in his decision not to settle down and start a family was because of the games. How could he bring up a child, his child, knowing that one day they could be entered into the games? It wasn't being selfish.

Harm

"You'll come to no harm here; come with us, our camp is only through those trees there."

"No, no, no!" Haymitch growled as the last District 12 tribute followed the burly career through the trees. Why did he get given such thick tributes? He knew that the Capitol could fix things, why couldn't they get him some decent tributes for once? Just once! Maybe it would give him a better chance at winning this godforsaken game. The careers were circling her, she was panicking. Haymitch looked away, but that didn't stop him hearing the crunch as they snapped her neck.

A/N: Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I completely forgot to update this week! Thanks to Reader-1996 for her reviews. Please review this chapter everyone :) Especially you silent story stalkers, reviews from you would be DELIGHTFUL :D