I do not own The Hunger Games nor any of its characters, I'm just writing this for fun. I hope you like the story and please feel free to review!
Chapter Two
I'm waiting in one of the fancy red rooms of the Justice Building for my family to come and visit me before I board a train to the Capitol and my death. Tributes are allowed one hour for visitors before they leave but I know that it will never feel like enough.
I genuinely thought Marsella would be shouting out someone else's name. Some other poor, unfortunate boy to be thrown in to the arena. Not me. Perhaps if I hadn't been so sure of myself I wouldn't be here now.
The door flies open and Layle runs in with tears streaming down his face. He almost knocks me off my chair with the speed that he's running at me with. I wrap my arms around him and I can feel his sobs against my chest. My mother stands in the corner, trying not to cry.
"Don't cry," is all I can say to Layle.
He pulls away and looks up at me as if I'm already dead. I'm as a good as, I suppose. "You're smart, Haymitch. Maybe…"
"Yeah, maybe," I say. "You promise me you'll behave for mum, okay? It's just the two of you now so you have to look out for each other."
He nods and throws his arms around me once more. I've always hated Snow but never as much as I do right now. It's one thing to kill me but to take away the only father figure in a small boy's life is another kind of evil.
And then there's my mother, who is now pulling me close, who has not only lost her husband but is about to lose her eldest son. In two years I was going to go down the mines and start contributing to the family but now all they'll have is my mother's wages until Layle is old enough.
"No matter what happens on the screen, you're still my son, okay?"
I'm not sure if these words are meant for me or for herself but I nod, anyway. "I'll do what I can, mum, but…"
"I know," she whispers and kisses my cheek. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
She takes Layle by the hand and has to drag him out of the room; he's kicking and screaming and the peacekeepers look like they're about to shoot him if mum doesn't get him out of here soon. I have to turn away because I don't want this to be my last memory of them.
The door closes and it isn't long before it's opening again to reveal Tilly. Her eyes are puffy from the crying and her cheeks are red. She runs in to my arms and all I want to do is hold her like this forever.
"Come back to me," she says.
"I'll try."
"No!" She shouts, stepping back. "Promise me!"
"I'm not going to do that, Tilly! I can't make you, of all people, a promise I won't be able to keep."
She starts crying again and all I can think to do is kiss her. This is how I wanted my life to end; kissing Tilly. But not like this. When we're old and in our home, maybe with a family.
"I know you'll be upset…when I'm gone," I say, "but promise me you'll live your life as much as you can. Find someone you love who loves you back and be happy." I never thought I would be telling my girlfriend to find someone else but I need her to know that I want her to be happy, whoever that may be with. The thought of her living the rest of her life being lonely and mourning my death is worse than my fate. Another life that Snow would have royally screwed over.
For the rest of the hour we hold each other on one of the plush sofas, neither of us saying a word. It's soothing, in an odd way. I'm here with my girl and that's all that matters.
When the peacekeepers signal that our time is up I give her one last kiss and say "Goodbye, sweetheart."
She holds her tears back as she leaves but as soon as the door closes I can hear her burst in to hysterics. It smashes my heart in to a million, tiny different pieces.
Marsella then bursts in to the room in her lime green monstrosity and a huge grin on her face.
"Haymitch!" She cries, "Hurry along, now, we've got a train to catch!"
I groan as I stand up and follow her to the car that is waiting outside; Clo, Maysilee and Dinium are already squashed in the back and I'm expected to squeeze in to the corners. Needless to say, the journey to the station is uncomfortable and silent.
We board the train and are ushered towards our rooms; mine is bigger than my entire house. It has a large bed and a private bathroom that has all of the latest Capitol technology.
I open a few drawers and see that they are all filled to the brim with shiny, Capitol-esque clothes that make me want to spew. If I'm going to be sent to my death I'd rather do it looking like myself than some idiot from the Capitol.
An hour or two passes whilst I explore the delights of my room and then Marsella appears again to inform me that it's time for dinner. I follow her to the dining cart and Dinium is already sitting at the large table with a huge bowl of bread rolls in its centre.
I'm instantly reminded of the humble lunch that I had with my family just hours ago.
"It's just typical that the year I get chosen is the year I have to face forty seven other kids," says Dinium with a wry smile. I return it with my own chortle, maybe we could have been friends in another life but I can't let myself think life this.
Maysilee and Clo quickly join us; the former giving us each a smile and the latter avoiding our gazes at all costs. She may be fourteen but Clo still looks like a child, at least the rest of us could sort of pass for adults.
Marsella and Titam enter the room and fill the remaining seats, each grabbing a bread roll.
"Tuck in," says Titam and we all obey. As he is the only victor from our district he will be a mentor for all of us throughout the games, which means he has to find us sponsors so that he can send us gifts in the arena that could mean the difference between life and death. I know I need to impress him so that he focuses more of his energy on me but, really, who would choose me over Dinium? He looks the strongest out of all of us, although, there's something about Maysilee that makes me think she could have a better shot than all of us.
Seconds later we are presented with spicy tomato soup that I have to force myself to eat slowly so that I can savour the taste. It's unlike anything I've ever tried.
"I'm not going to lie to you," says Titam, "This year is going to be the worst Hunger Games ever," this sends Clo in to hysterics but Maysilee manages to calm her down by rubbing her back. "District 12 isn't known for how well it does in the games but I promise I'm going to try my best to get one of you home."
I wonder how many tributes he's said this to in the past only for none of them to return. He's been a mentor for forty years and not one of his tributes has survived, I can't imagine how he's lasted this long without going crazy. He's had to watched eighty children go to their deaths, how can he seem so…normal?
"Now, now, no need for such the glum faces!" Squeals Marsella, "We've got a lovely meal to enjoy before we watch the reapings and then tomorrow we'll be in the Capitol! How exciting!"
"Yes," Maysilee snaps and it quickly dawns on me that this sweet looking girl may have another side to her.
The rest of the meal is eaten in silence as we size each other up. I can see Dinium glancing at Maysilee between bites and it's clear that he wants to do more than ally with her. Part of me wants to tell him to not be so stupid; there's no way he can enter in to a relationship with her but the other part of me urges him to act on his feelings. Maybe if he's too busy obsessing over Maysilee he'll be less obsessed with killing me.
I need to stop thinking like this, I'm not coming home. I need to accept that.
After we've finished stuffing ourselves with chocolate cake covered in raspberry sauce we all sit around the television to see the recap of today's reapings.
Districts 1 and 2 produce eight angry looking teenagers who look no younger than sixteen and half of them are volunteers, which means they'll be more than eager to kill anyone who gets in their way. The whole recap takes far longer than usual due to the amount of tributes that each district has to produce and it seems like each one has a potential victor. When they get to our district and I see all four of us standing on that stage, all I can think is how composed Dinium and Maysilee look compared to me and Clo. I've contorted my face so that I look so angry and shocked that I'm convinced everyone in the Capitol will dismiss me because of how ungrateful I am for the opportunity I've been given.
"Okay, I think we should all go to bed," Titam announces, "But before you go to sleep if you could just think about any strategies or skills you want to work on it will save a lot of time once we get to the Capitol."
At least he's being efficient, I think, because I don't think I'll cope if I have to spend the next few days dwelling on the many different and creative ways that I could die.