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I do not own the Hunger Games nor its characters.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The only thought that is going through my head right now is that I can't believe it's been twenty years since I won my Games. Some days it feels much longer and then other days I'm haunted by images of the arena and it feels like no time has passed at all.
I'm suitably tipsy as I take my seat on the stage and wait for the Reaping to begin. This past year has been as nondescript as usual, the only highlight was seeing Finnick during the Victory Tour. He was a lot more relaxed than he was in the Capitol but the protectiveness he felt towards Annie was hard to hide. She seems to be scared of her own shadow and only Finnick knows how to get even the remotest of smiles from her.
The clock strikes two and Mayor Undersee takes to the mic to deliver his required speech before handing over to Effie who is wearing a dress that resembles some sort of deformed fish. Maybe she's hinting that she would be better placed in 4 than 12.
After she's told everyone how exciting the Games are she plunges her hand in to the girls' bowl and pulls out a slip. "Saskia Jade!" She reads and a blonde haired girl from the sixteen year old section approaches the stage, her face expressionless.
"And now for the boys!" Effie squeals and places her hand in the other bowl. She finally pulls out the slip and shouts, "Chester Arnold!"
I feel like I've been kicked in the chest repeatedly and I have to do everything in my power to stop myself from screaming. I can't let the Capitol know that Chester means something to me, it would only make things worse for him.
I haven't seen him in years but once he's on the stage I can't get over how grown up he looks. He has thick, dark brown hair and Tilly's eyes; they haven't changed since he was a baby. He must be about fourteen but he's tall and handsome, hopefully that will count for something. I can see that he's looking out over the audience and his eyes are fixed on his parents.
Drake has one arm around a sobbing Herma and the other is around a thin girl of about ten; I never even knew they'd had a second child. I just knew this day would come and, even though I've kept my distance, it's even worse than I'd imagined.
I'm already sitting in the dining cart, waiting for Effie to arrive with the tributes. She eventually totters in with Chester in tow, apparently Saskia isn't ready to leave her room, yet.
"I'm surprised you're awake!" Effie says in her strange voice, "Don't tell me you've actually decided to put some effort in this year!"
I catch Chester's eye but I can't read him. He's neither angry nor upset, just plain. All I can see is the eyes of the fiery girl that I fell in love with all those years ago.
"My dad told me about you and my aunt," says Chester. Effie is visibly confused by the statement and I can almost see her ears prick up. "And he told me just now…he told me that I should trust you. That you really would help get me home." His voice is a mixture of confusion and desperation, he knows I'm his last hope but it may not be enough.
"Your father has always been a very wise man," I say and this gets a smile out of him. "How old are you, kid?"
"Fourteen…well, almost." What he means is that he'll be fourteen if he ever comes home, again. "Is it true you bought me my baby blanket? Mum always used to say that it was a gift from you when I was born but I never really believed her. I mean, you never-"
"It's true," I say, not wanting to get in to the reasons why I was never around. It still hurts to see him sitting before me but I know in my heart of hearts that it would be one hundred times worse if he thought of me as his uncle. "Why don't we get some dinner and then watch the reapings?"
"What an excellent idea!" Screeches Effie, she probably feels like she's being left out of our little reunion.
Saskia finally joins us with her puffy red eyes and makes small talk as we eat. Nobody talks about my connection to Chester but Effie must know that I've made my decision, even though it's illegal to not help Saskia, too. But how can I when I remember how happy Drake and Herma had been at his birth? And how happy, no matter for how short a time, I had been, too?
The Careers are as monstrous as always and there is a boy from 6 that I tell Saskia and Chester to watch out for, he has a sly look about him that gives me the creeps. The girl from 7 is sniveling and crying like no one's business, she's definitely not getting any sponsors. When they finally get to 12 I'm relieved to see that my reaction to Chester's name doesn't give anything away.
Once we get to the Capitol I pull on some clean clothes and make myself look half decent before heading straight to the Sponsorship Room. I can't say I'm surprised when no one wants to deal with me, they prefer to talk to Finnick or the brutes from 1 and 2.
I spend the entire afternoon there with no luck so I grab some dinner before heading to the Victors' Box. This year's stylist for 12 looked as zany as ever when I met her earlier so I'm not holding out much hope for Chester's outfit.
The room soon fills up with Finnick and Annie helping Mags to walk, she has a cane now but it's clear that her age is catching up with her. Nevertheless, she gives me a warm smile as she approaches.
"Hello," I say to them and they all reply, although Annie seems to be in her own world.
"Annie, why don't you take a seat and I'll get you something to drink?" Suggests Finnick. Annie simply smiles and follows him to a chair.
"Poor girl," says Mags, "I don't think she knows where she is half the time." She turns her head to me and looks me up and down. "You're looking very clean cut. What's happened?"
Just as Finnick and Chaff approach us I tell them all about Chester, my connection to him and how I'm going to do everything I can to get him home.
"I know that feeling," says Finnick. "Although I doubt Plutarch can do anything for you this year. Sorry." The last word comes out softly as if he's done something awful.
"Don't be sorry, that was down to me after all," I say and flash him a cocky grin, which he returns. "Has anyone spoken to him, yet?"
"I have," says Mags. "That documentary went as planned and they're prepared to give us whatever we need but everyone has to be in revolt before things move forward." We all nod, "He also said something about a stylist he wants to get in soon, apparently he's on our side but I'd zoned out by then, you know how he goes on, sometimes." We all laugh but I still feel tense.
The tributes are soon entering City Circle on their chariots and the girl from 7 is still sobbing! Chester, meanwhile, doesn't look too bad in his coal miner's outfit and is giving the audience a perfect smile.
The next morning at breakfast I advise both of my tributes to pick a weapon and perfect it but hold back on just how good they are. I know that Chester has no experience with a weapon and if he wants to win he's going to have to kill.
"What's the point?" Says Saskia, throwing down her napkin, "We're not going to win." She leaves the table and I'm left staring at Chester.
"Don't forget the survival stations," I say.
"I won't, you know my sister said the same thing to me in the Justice Building."
"That's pretty smart for such a young kid," I pause, thinking about whether I want to know more or not. "What's her name?"
"Freya," he says. "Freya Tilly Arnold."
I smile because what else is there to do? "Every time I look at you I see her, you've got her eyes…and her fire, I think."
"Let's hope so, I'll see you later." He rises from the table and collects Saskia before leaving for training.
The interviews are soon upon us and coaching Chester is a lot easier than I thought. We've decided to go with the 'cheeky chappy' approach as he's not old enough to play sexy but I'm sure he can get a few of the female Capitolites to fall in love with him. When he finally takes to the stage with Caesar he's got the interviewer in hysterics as he tells him about his life in the Seam.
"Now, young Chester, were you pleased with the eight you scored? If my memory serves me correctly that was the same score that your mentor pulled two decades ago!" Says Caesar.
Now would be the perfect time to reveal that Chester is my sort-of nephew but I explicitly told him not to say anything; having me an uncle is not going to help. Thankfully, he listens, and just tells Caesar how honoured he is with his score.
The day of the Games arrives and I'm more nervous than I anticipated. I hardly slept last night with hundreds of visions of Chester's death haunting my dreams. I don't talk to anyone as I approach my station, I can't face the wishes of good luck right now.
The Games soon begin and Chester manages to grab a fairly large rucksack and a scary looking knife before running away from the bloodbath. He probably shouldn't have stuck around so long but at least he's away, now. Saskia, on the other hand, only lasts for about ten minutes before the girl from 1 sends a spear through her heart.
As the Games go on, Chester puts his survival skills to use and the sponsors are flooding in. He gets in to a fight with a boy from 9 on the third day but manages to plunge a knife in to his abdomen before sprinting away. The look of horror on his face is hard to mask.
Everyone volunteers to take my place for a few hours while I sleep and, even though I'm grateful, I find it hard not to watch Chester at all times.
"That Johanna girl is really starting to get on my nerves," I hear Cashmere say one day and realise that she's talking about the girl from 7. Somehow she managed to get her hands on an axe but all she's doing is moping around and crying.
"Hello little boy," I hear from the screen and my head shoots back round. A boy from 2 has stumbled across Chester in the woods and has his knife poised.
"No, no, no!" I shout and Finnick comes running over.
"Calm down, Haymitch, he's done well so far," he says but there's an uncertainty in his voice.
"I'm not a little boy," says Chester, calmly. "Little boys don't slit people's throats when they least expect it." He's twirling his knife in his hands now.
"Stop acting like a Career!" I shout, "Just run!"
The boy from 2 runs at him but Chester is already off the mark and bounding through the woods, dodging the plants and trees that block his path but I can see it happen before it happens. The boy from 2 catches up and launches his body at Chester, flattening him on the ground. Chester closes his eyes and waits for the knife to plunge in to his chest.
I feel numb.
I spend the next week in my bed with only a bottle of white liquor for company until Chaff stomps into the apartment one afternoon, dragging me in to the lounge area.
"You have to see this girl!" He shouts and switches on the television. A highlights show of the Games is being shown and Johanna is throwing an axe in a Career's chest, a look of malice etched across her face.
"She's taken out two Careers and a kid from ten," says Chaff. "And do you know what she said when she did?"
"What?" I groan.
"Blame Snow."
"Stupid girl," I say.
"I know but if she wins, Haymitch, she could be just what we need."
He's right, of course. We've been waiting for someone to get the districts in to a frenzy and maybe she's it. Maybe she's the one who can expose Panem for what it really is but I'm not sure. She's angry, all right, but we need more than anger. We need someone who knows when to use that anger and when not to. I just hope they come soon.
Much to everyone's surprise Johanna is crowned the victor and emerges from the arena with quite a few kills under her name. When I arrive back in 12 the last thing I expect to see is Drake, Herma and Freya standing at the station. I just stare at them for a moment, unsure of what to do. Why would they want to be here?
"I tried," I eventually say, "I really tried. He was good, it's just-"
"We know, Haymitch," says Herma, tears threatening to stream down her face. "We just wanted to say thank you. You sent him all the right gifts and he had all the skills but he was just a boy."
"We just wanted you to know that we don't blame you," says Drake, "Please don't punish yourself."
I say thank you but I can't do as they ask. I've been punishing myself for years but not like I'm about to, I've never lost a tribute I actually cared for and the pain is unlike any other I've experienced. I really don't know how I'm going to make it to next year.