The smell of liquor in Haymitch's house makes my nostrils burn. I try breathing through my mouth but it makes my throat feel raw which is much, much worse. I sit alone in the living room because Gale went to the bathroom and Mom and Dad said they needed to talk.
The worn out alcoholic that sits in front of me shows no emotions on his face. He burbs and it leaves a stench all throughout the room. "Primrose, how'd your parents come up with that one?" he asks.
"You know very well how," I reply. I was named after Aunt Prim who died at the age of thirteen. Mom and Dad won't tell us why but I'm starting to think it has to do with The Games. Gale was named after Uncle Gale who lives in district two. He's not actually related to us but Mom and him are best friends. He's married to Aunt Madge who also is not related to us.
"Would you like a drink?" asks Haymitch holding up a glass of wine. "I'm twelve," I say, obviously he's very drunk, drunker than I had expected. "Do you think your brother would like one when he gets back?" he questions me. "He's nine!" I yell appalled.
I sit uncomfortably wondering where we'll have to live, hopefully not here. I start to bite my nails without noticing and I grit my teeth to stop. I look around hoping Mom, Dad, or Gale will walk in saying we can leave and I tap my foot impatiently.
Just then Gale walks in looking worried. "Can I show you something?" asks Gale. "Uh… okay," I say. What could he want to show me? At least I can get away from Haymitch. He leads me down the hall and tells me to listen through a door. "Why?" I ask. "Just do it," he says.
I press me ear against the wood and I can hear Mom and Dad. "And what are going to do with the kids?" asks Dad. "I don't know…send them to Gale and Madge," responds Mom. "So it's starting again?" says Dad, "I just can't believe we're going to have to go to war again…but this time it's different, I mean, as far as we know it we're going to be alone. The odds are not in favor." Mom sighs and says something that sends a chill through all of my limbs, refusing to believe it. "The odds want us dead," she says.