Pathetic, pitiful, vile and useless. Those were the words going through my head while Peeta, Effie and I take in the scene of our drunken mentor.
The same stench he had in The Reaping hits my nose again and I put my hands up to my mouth and nose trying shield the smell and keeping myself from doing the exact same thing he just did a few seconds ago. My eyes are literally watering from the reek of vomit and strong alcohol. I take a couple of steps back and look away from him. This is the person who´s going to help us survive this? I can´t believe that this is all we get when we´re inside the arena. I glance towards Peeta and one thought goes through me.
We are doomed.
Peeta meets my eyes. He steps forward and reaches out for Haymitch´s arm and helps him to his feet "I tripped?" Haymitch asks. "Smells bad." He wipes his hand on his nose, smearing his face with vomit. I gag, still keeping my hand on my mouth. I´ve seen animals butchered, eaten Greasy Sae´s food and still this made me feel worse than ever. If that doesn't give you a hint, I don´t know what will.
"Let's get you back to your room," says Peeta. "Clean you up a bit."
Three steps behind I follow them to Haymitch´s compartment. Peeta is literally dragging Haymitch on his drunken state. I would help but the fear of my weak stomach betraying me is too strong. With the little ounce of strength my stomach can bear I help Peeta haul Haymitch into the bathtub and Peeta quickly turns the shower on. Haymitch doesn´t even react to the water.
"It's okay," Peeta says to me. "I'll take it from here."
I can't help feeling a little grateful since the last thing I want to do is strip down Haymitch, wash the vomit out of his chest hair, and tuck him into bed. Without hesitation I give Peeta a stiff nod and leave Haymitch´s compartment to return to my own. By the time I've reached my room I regret not asking him if I should call for one of the capitol people working on the train.
I sit on my bed as the train suddenly stops. I push myself of the bed and open the door out to the corridor. One of the capitol workers passes by and gives me a tight smile.
"No worries miss. We´ve just stopped to get some refuel." He says and keeps walking. I close the door to my room again and return to the bed.
Poor Peeta!
At this moment he is no doubt washing the vomit out of Haymitch´s hair. He is probably regretting it now for sending me away. I throw myself on the bed and stare into the loft. What are they doing right now? Is my mom safe?
" "Please don´t be alone." I whisper
My thoughts drift to Katniss and Gale. What about them? Are they at home thanking the stars that they are safe or mourning the loss of a friend? I close my eyes and grimaces. Why do I sound so selfish? Wanting them to mourn me. I´ve never sounded more self-absorbed in my life.
I guess living in the shadow of Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne has made me insecure. I have to admit Gale was right when he said I wasn´t as good as Katniss with a bow and arrow. I could survive with a knife and bobby traps are my specialty with the right clearing. No game has ever escaped my traps. But using one of Katniss's bows was a bit difficult but having steady hands from sewing makes me kind of good I could kill using that as a weapon.
I shake my head at the thought. I never thought I would sit in this bed and think about which weapons I would use to kill other children with.
I thought of my mom, sitting alone in the dark in front of the TV watching the recap of the events that happened today.
I close my eyes and exhale the air I´ve been holding. If I keep thinking like this I won´t survive for a minute. Suddenly the train gives a jerk and less than a second the train is going on full speed.
Everything from the day's events come crashing again and suddenly I´m in tears. The crying tires my body and soon after I've stopped and I let the darkness overcome me.
It feels like I´ve only just closed my eyes, but a sound of knocking wakes me up. I am greeted by the light streaming in from the window. "Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie Trinket says in her usual happy voice. This lady is going to be the death of me. If this was what the Capitol called normal behavior I won´t make to the interviews. I pull myself from the bed and change my clothes from yesterday into a yellow shirt and black pants.
Miraculously my fishtail had stayed in its place and hadn´t become undone. I leave it as it is and enter the dining car. I take a seat beside Peeta and try not to be as awkward as I usually am.
I can´t help but look at Haymitch and see that his face is puffy and red. Servers him right for acting like a fool. The sound of him chuckling makes me want to grind my teeth.
"I was just asking him about how to find shelter." Peeta says to me as I pure some apple juice into my glass. I look at him and meet his eyes with a confused look. This is the first time he´s said anything to me since we arrived on the train except from yesterday.
Why would he tell me this. I just expected we would ignore each other until the games begun.
I want to ignore him but the way he said it made it sound like he wanted me to know what Haymitch had to offer. I quickly look away and take a tiny sip from my juice.
So much for not being awkward.
"Which would come in handy if you were still alive?" Haymitch says while knocking back a glass of red juice that he keeps thinning with a clear liquid from a bottle. Judging by the fumes, it's some kind of spirit. He' will be just as drunk as yesterday by the time we reach the Capitol.
"So how do you find shelter?" Peeta asks. He leans more in to the table as if that would help Haymitch answer his question. Haymitch ignores Peeta´s question and reaches out to take some bread from the basket. I look at them both with raised eyebrows. From Peeta to Haymitch then back to Peeta.
"How do you find shelter" This time it doesn't come out as a question. Now frowning and a clenched jaw, Peeta looks more annoyed than angry. With a loud groan Haymitch raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Give me a chance to wake up, Bread boy." He says in a brusque manner and dismisses him with wave of the hand. A sudden realization hits me. No wonder anyone from District 12 had never survived longer than the bloodbath or just stood a chance. It isn't just that we've been underfed and lack training. Some of our tributes have still been strong enough to make a go of it. But we rarely get sponsors and he's a big part of the reason why. No sponsor in their right mind would step five feet in front of him while having the strength not to gag.
With pure resentment on my face, I stare down at the table and say "Answer him!"
it would have come out harsher but I´m too much of a coward to do it.
"She speaks! And I was beginning to think you were mute or something." Haymitch response. He takes a sip from his glass. Like hell if he thinks he can ignore me.
"I said answer him!"
Still not harsh but a bit louder than before.
"Look Peanut! This mentoring is very…taxing stuff." He says while he pulls out another flask from under his shirt and starts purring it down into the glass he just finished. Frowning I look at Peeta and he meets my eyes. His face looks baffled. Didn´t he expect me to help him or something? I have to admit I wouldn´t have done it if Haymitch hadn´t made me so mad.
"Pass the jam would you." Haymitch says as he gestures towards the jam which is right in front of me.
"Be brave Primavera! You have nothing to lose!" My inner voice says.
He is just going to dismiss me again!
In a few days you are going to die, have some guts before you go!
The voice in my head is right, if I can´t speak up how will I make it in the Capitol.
"I´m not going to ask you again, answer him" I say in a raised voice.
"Fine! You want some advice kid? Here's some advice. Stay alive," says Haymitch, and then bursts out laughing. I exchange a look with Peeta. I'm surprised to see the hardness in his eyes. He generally seems so mild for a baker's son. "That's very funny," says Peeta. Suddenly he lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. It shatters on the floor, sending the blood red liquid running toward the back of the train. "Only not to us." Haymitch looks at the spilled liquid with wide eyes and then considers this a moment, then punches Peeta in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. My eyes are wide in shock. Did he just punch a tribute over spilled liquid? This man was too far gone. I glance at the sharp butter knife in front of me and I quickly grab it. I might be a coward when it comes to speaking up, but hitting someone over alcohol...
When he turns back to reach for the alcohol, I drive my knife into the table between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers. I thank the stars for missing. I try not to show surprise over barley missing his fingers.
I´ve not done this before.
I stare with a blank face at him and say "Don´t you even dare." For a minute I think he´s going to punch me too. Instead he sits back and squints at us.
Well, what's this?" says Haymitch. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"
Peeta rises from the floor and scoops up a handful of ice from under the fruit tureen. He starts to raise it to the red mark on his jaw. "No," says Haymitch, stopping him. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you've even made it to the arena."
"That's against the rules," says Peeta.
"Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren't caught, even better," says Haymitch. He turns to me. "Now Peanut. You really wanna know how to stay alive?" Haymitch reaches for the marmalade and I give it to him. "You get people to like you."
I wrinkle my nose and lean back in my chair. Me! likable? that's a joke. I can´t even utter a whole sentence without stuttering. For some reason people don´t like it when you can´t talk like a normal human being.
"Oh…Not what you were expecting? You´re in the middle of the games and you´re starving or freezing, some water, a knife or even some matches can mean the difference between life and death." He smears the jam across the bread he took from the basket. "And those things come only from Sponsors and to get Sponsors you have to make people like you." He takes a bite from the bread and leans back. I glance at Peeta who´s still touching his jaw.
"And right now Peanut, you´re not doing a great job with the silent act." He says after he finishes his last piece of bread.