It was an odd morning.

The birds were not chirping. The sun was hardly shining. No voices carried throughout the west end of the Seam.

Haymitch tugged open one eye before clamping it shut when he realized what today was.

Reaping day, he thought. I wish I didn't wake up today.

It was announced last night, in a pre-reaping day special, four tributes would be chosen from each district in part of the special Quarter Quell. This would be Haymitch's sixth reaping. Not only was his name entered five times; he also had nine tesserae in the pot. Would the odds really be in his favor?

After forcing himself out of bed and to the water basin, Haymitch began to dress in the clothes his mother had laid out for him. Simple brown slacks, a white dress shirt, tan suspenders and shoes. It's nothing fancy, but typical wear in District 12. Haymitch peered at himself in a tiny mirror and ran his fingers through his short, straight sandy hair.

"That's as good as it will get," he mumbled.

Haymitch opened his bedroom door to reveal his younger brother on the other side. He quickly straightened at the sight of Haymitch.

"I was just seeing if you were up," he whispered.

Haymitch gave a smile, ruffled his brother's hair and made his way to the kitchen. His mother had breakfast on the table: eggs, a slab of ham and small piece of bread with jam.

"Mom," Haymitch marveled. "This looks amazing. Where did you get all of this?"

His mom blushed and turned from wiping a bowl.

"Mrs. Caudoway had a few eggs to spare, so I made some bread with the grain we just received," she answered.

"This is really good," Haymitch said with his mouth full.

"Yeah, mom," Haymitch's brother mimicked, smiling up at his brother.

Haymitch ruffled his brother's hair once more before watching him eat. This would be the last year of safety for the young boy. In two months he would turn 12, qualifying him for the reaping. It's not something Haymitch particularly wanted to dwell on, but the time would come. And even though he only had two more years left of eligibility for the reaping, Haymitch vowed to do anything to protect his brother from the Hunger Games.

Haymitch was busy laughing at his brother when he heard the signal. His smile quickly turned to stone. His younger brother looked down at his empty plate and began to sniffle.

"Hey, it's okay," Haymitch quickly said. "I'm going to be alright."

His brother slightly nodded before getting up and taking his mother's hand. The three-member family exited their home and began the trek to the middle of the District. Haymitch passed through the entrance, where his blood was taken and name signed into a book; in a flash and began searching the crowd.

His mother and brother were off to the side with the other families watching their children. Haymitch continued looking for a familiar pair of grey eyes. He smiled when they met with his.

Gemma Coifoid. His friend. His sweetheart. His everything.

She gave a weak smile. While her name was only entered four times, she had a equal number of tesserae. 'It will be okay,' Haymitch mouthed. She gave another weak smile before turning forward to the stage as the District 12 escort came forth on the stage from the Justice building.

Aria Bolden.

There were many words to describe the shrill, flamboyant, energetic escort. She had been the escort for the district for seven years. Over her career, she had drawn the names of fourteen unsuccessful tributes. And if history as a way of repeating, four more will be added to her resume.

Haymitch felt his stomach knot.

"Happy Hunger Games," Aria squeaked out in her annoying voice.

God, can anything be more annoying than her? Haymitch thought.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor," Aria continued. She went on about the history of the Games — as if it ever changed from one year to the next — and praised the future tributes for the honor they were about to be bestowed.

"Now, if you saw that wonderful special last night, you will already know that this year, in honor of the Second Quarter Quell, I will be drawing four names. Two girls and two boys," Aria went on. "Ladies first."

Aria stuck her perfectly manicured hands in the glass bowl and swirled the pieces of paper around. She plucked one from its spot, unfolded the paper and read in a clear voice:

"Janica Talem."

Haymitch's eyes shot up to the front of the crowd as the timid 12-year-old stepped out from her row. Her eyes were cast down at the ground as the Peacekeepers took their positions behind her. Janica made her way up the stairs and kept her eyes downcast, even when Aria interviewed her. Janica stood off to the side as Aria stepped over to the second glass bowl.

"Shall we draw a boy's name this time?" she asked the crowd, as if they had a choice.

She chose a piece of paper off of the top of the pile and quickly read:

"Darrien Conner."

Haymitch couldn't help but smirk. Darrien was the biggest dick he had ever met. Darrien, the son of a wealthy shop owner, would torment and bully people in the Seam just because they were poor.

Well if this isn't karma coming to bite him in the ass, Haymitch silently laughed.

Aria turned back to the girls bowl and began digging her hand in the slips of paper. Haymitch felt his breath hitch in his chest. Not Gemma, not Gemma, not Gemma, he kept repeating to himself. He wasn't sure what he would do if her name was called and, frankly, he didn't want to find out.

Aria quickly unfolded the slip and paused before looking into the crowd, as if she was personally torturing Haymitch.

"Maysilee Donner."

He watched as Maysilee made her way to the stage with her head held high. She was a proud person and wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction of breaking her. She was in the same grade as Haymitch, but they hardly spoke.

Haymitch finally felt his heartbeat for what felt like the first time all day. Gemma was safe and soon this would be all over. Gemma would accompany Haymitch back to his home where they would talk about the day, predict the fate for their fellow peers and possibly take a walk through the Seam. It would be like any other day.

Haymitch was too busy planning his day and relishing in the security of Gemma's safety to hear the final boy's name called.

"—nathy," Aria spoke in a clear voice.

Haymitch stared at her. Did she just…?

Aria let out a frustrated breath when no one in the crowd moved. "Haymitch Abernathy," she spoke again, this time with a little more force.

Haymitch felt the color drain from his face and his hands go cold. He could suddenly hear the cries of his mother, brother and girlfriend. He wasn't sure how he was moving, but Haymitch was slowly exiting his row and making his way down the center aisle of children.

His eyes quickly glanced at Gemma, who had her hands covering her face.

The Peacekeepers guided Haymitch to the stage, where he stood looking out into the crowd. He looked at the faces of a few friends and mirrored their sadness.

"Took you a minute there dear," Aria said in a joking voice. "What is going through your mind right now?"

Haymitch felt his lungs contract for the first time since his name was called. Before he could even think of words to respond, he blurted out his first thought.

"Fuck."