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I do not own the Hunger Games nor its characters.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I wish I could recall the events of the past six years but I can't, in fact, I'm amazed that I'm still alive considering the amount of alcohol I consume. I'm thirty one years of age and I've been addicted to white liquor for about half of my life, the one thing I swore I would never do. I wouldn't become my father.
I'm not my father, though, I'm far worse. He only destroyed his family whereas I've given up on so many tributes that I dread to think how many families have had to deal with grief that I could have helped to avoid. I want to blame the kids but I can't, it's not their fault they're so ill equipped compared to the Careers.
Ever since Vieve left there hasn't been a great deal to get excited about; the rebellion seems to be floundering and I'm seriously doubting that we'll ever overthrow Snow. Every year I go to the Capitol with the small hope that Plutarch will have some news or some sort of assignment for us but he never does. Until we can raise an army that threatens the Capitol's forces we've got no chance.
It's the day before the Reaping for the sixty-fifth Hunger Games and I'm spending it with Ripper, a woman who lost her arm in a mining accident and now sells liquor in The Hob. She's lucky she's got her head screwed on otherwise she would have died of starvation years ago, it's not like there's a lot of job opportunities in 12.
"Don't you think you should get going now?" She asks.
"Probably," I reply, finishing off what's left in my bottle. The only time I see people now is when I venture to The Hob, other than that it's just me, myself and I locked away in my ridiculously extravagant mansion.
I walk past the square in Town where cameras and the stage are being erected for tomorrow. I used to feel horror when I saw them setting up and now I feel nothing. I hate myself for it.
Amongst the throng of people buying groceries from the shops I can see her, holding the hands of her twins as they leave the bakery, her husband follows with his arms full of bread. I rarely see her nowadays, I think the last time I saw her was about a year ago because the twins looked more like toddlers and now they're children. I bumped in to her mother one day and she told me that they were named Rufus and Melia but I didn't know what to say, they weren't my children and I have no connection to them. I look at the way she smiles at them and she seems happy, that's all I can hope for, now.
The day of the Reaping is as grim as ever, although Marsella has finally given up on being 12's escort in favour of marrying a rich husband. When I arrive at the square a woman in six inch heels and a neon blue dress with matching wig totters over to me. Her lips are a deep blue and she has a creepy smile as she extends her hand to me.
"Effie Trinket," she says, "I'm twelve's new escort." I shake her hand, trying to work out how old she is. I want to say she's slightly younger than me but who knows with these Capitolites?
"Haymitch Abernathy." She starts wittering on about timings and schedule and all I can think is that she Marsella Mark II so I take my seat and zone out.
Mayor Undersee, who took over from Clarkson last year, begins his speech with less of the nerves he had last year but without much conviction. He would have been Maysilee's brother-in-law as he, somehow, managed to persuade Pertha to marry him. Poor, broken Pertha who is rarely seen in 12 and when she is she just looks ill.
I must fall asleep on stage because the next thing I know I'm being slapped across the face by Effie and everyone is filtering out of the square.
"Mr. Abernathy!" She shouts, "Have you no respect for the Hunger Games?!"
"You really want me to answer that?" She scowls and attempts to drag me out of my chair but I just gently push her away. "Hey, watch the suit."
Once on the train I immediately help myself to a glass of white liquor as I wait for Effie and the tributes to arrive. When they do board the train Effie's eyes go straight to the glass in my hand and the kids' are wide open, gazing at all the food before them.
"Is that such a good idea?" Effie snaps.
"Oh, yes. Do you want one?"
"No! I do not! I have a very important job to do and so do you!"
I try to get to know my tributes but they just look terrified of me, maybe I'm slurring more than I usually am. Or maybe I'm just genuinely terrifying. They're definitely Seam kids, they have the grey eyes and dark hair and you can almost see their bones. I just want to go to my room but Effie is making me stay until the recap of the Reapings are played otherwise she's going to chuck all of the alcohol out of the window. I'm not really paying attention the way the others are; the Careers are all muscle and the commentators are going crazy over the fourteen year old from 4.
"So what do you think of Finnick Odair?" One says to the other.
"He definitely looks like a contender, even at fourteen. I'm sure he's going to break a few hearts, too!" The commentator chuckles and I have to stop myself from throwing something at the screen. He may look older but he's still only a fourteen year old boy! I bet Snow is brimming over with excitement at the sight of him.
On the second day of training Plutarch summons me to one of the Capitol's extravagant restaurants and when I arrive Mags is already at a table sipping a glass of wine. The last couple of years have been tough, she needs a stick to walk now and after a fall she had about two years ago her speech has become a bit hard to understand if you haven't known her for years.
I sit down and order and talk quickly turns to Finnick. "He certainly had everyone swooning over him at the Opening Ceremony," I say.
"Indeed, I really think he could do it, you know. And he's a decent kid, not like some of the Careers I have to mentor." Her eyes seem to be drifting away from me and I can tell something is on her mind.
"Mags, this may be all the alcohol in my body talking but, are you okay?"
She gives me a smile and says, "It's just…you know what happens to the beautiful ones and he's the most handsome tribute the Games have ever seen. I don't know if he can handle it."
"Well, you can't think about that until he actually wins."
She nods and it isn't long before Beetee, Chaff, Seeder and Cecelia, a victor in her twenties from 8 arrive. I don't know much about her but she seems nice enough and I think Chaff has a soft spot for her, despite her getting married last year. They all order food before Plutarch comes sauntering in with a huge grin on her face.
"Ahh, victors! Fancy seeing you here!" He says as he approaches and starts to shake everyone's hands. A few of the Capitolites are looking at us but none of us are particularly loved here, anymore so they mostly just keep their attention on their food. "Would you mind if I joined you?"
"Of course not, Plutarch," says Beetee. "Wiress was meant to come but she's not feeling too well. I'm sure she would have loved to have seen you." He looks over his glasses as if to make sure that Plutarch has understood why his district mate is absent from our little meeting.
Plutarch pulls up a chair and leans in to the table slightly. "Now, I can't stay long, as you can imagine there's lots to plan!" The glee that slips in to his voice sometimes makes it difficult to forget that he was born and raised in this city, even if he's not as ignorant as the rest of them. "But I thought I should keep you updated, what do you know about District Thirteen?"
We all exchange looks of confusion, "It got blown off the map," Cecelia says before adding, "Didn't it?"
"Well, maybe not. I can't say too much but I may have come across some records that indicate it struck a deal with the Capitol to have nothing to do with the rest of Panem if they left thirteen alone."
"Why would the Capitol agree to that?" I ask, as far as I know 13 were just a bunch of graphite miners with less money than 12.
"Because they had more nuclear weapons than the Capitol did and the technology to make more whereas the Capitol didn't."
We all look at him in stunned silence. Our entire lives we've been led to believe that 13 was obliterated in the war and only 12 districts are part of Panem.
"So you're telling me that for sixty-five years we've been sending our kids off to their deaths whilst thirteen just sits around doing nothing?"
"I doubt it's that simple, Haymitch. I'll have to do more research before we even contemplate contacting them, I don't know if they'll even be able to help us but it's some sort of plan."
"Plan? We've never had a plan! I've committed myself to this rebellion since I was seventeen and I feel like I've done nothing to help move it forward, do you have any idea how frustrating that is?!"
"Haymitch," Mags puts her hand on mine but I push it away.
"No, Mags. We're supposed to act grateful that he's helping us but it makes no difference to him, he's never had to suffer like we have!" I stand up and walk out of the restaurant with, thankfully, only the group of victors staring at me. Everyone else is too busy moaning about how small their portions are.
I avoid everyone until the Games begin and even then I can tell that no one is happy with me. I walk in to the Sponsorship Room and Mags instantly grabs my arm and drags me over to a quiet corner of the room. I try to pull away but she's still surprisingly strong for a seventy year old.
"Look, Haymitch, I know you're not a huge fan of people in general but you're going to have start accepting that the only way to overthrow…you know…is if we trust Plutarch!" Her voice is hushed but there's a stern tone to it.
"But nothing's happening!"
"I've been waiting over a half century for this so I think you'll be okay to wait a little longer! We need you, Haymitch, but not if you're going to actively try to destroy everything we're building. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a fourteen year old boy who needs my help."
Of course, one of my tributes goes down as soon as the bloodbath begins and the other is found a few hours later by a tribute from 3. Finnick, meanwhile, has joined forces with the Career alliance but it's clear they're all jealous of his good looks and I have to wonder how long it will be before they turn on him.
I watch a few clips of the Games from my room over the course of the month, just to see what it is Mags likes so much about this kid. He's got all the charm and the witty lines and when he's given a trident from his sponsors he becomes unstoppable. I'm amazed that Mags could even afford to send him one, I've seen the price of them from the catalogue and they're the most expensive gifts you can send.
On the last day it comes down to just him and a boy from 2 but when he tries to attack Finnick with his knife the trident is already buried in his chest before he can even break in to a run.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, Finnick Odair, district four tribute!"