Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged

Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games.

PART 1

"THE MENTOR"

Chapter 1: Life in a Nightmare

Blaine's POV

Five years later

I opened my eyes after having a nightmare.

Nightmares were very common to a victor. It was rare to have sweet dreams. One considers it a blessing when you dream of nothing in the dark void. For almost five years, I've been having nightmares of the 69th Hunger Games, from the experience of horrendous things I have done in order to survive. There have been other dreams of all the tributes I have failed. As I dreamt of their deaths or being in their place of being killed. There is blood on my hands. Either from me wielding the blade or the failed choices in keeping the tributes alive.

If heaven and hell were real…no doubt my soul would go to hell.

My eyes watered as I tried to regulate my emotions. Yet it doesn't prevent a sob. Nearly every morning, I wake up feeling like I am paralyzed. Sometimes the episode is just lying there. But the worst is these anxiety attacks, my body would tense, and my heart clenched like I was dying. Post-traumatic stress disorder, as medical professionals call it. But to us victors, it was survivors' guilt. The ones not genuinely affected by it were the Career Victors. They walked around smiling while the rest of us suffered in silence.

I took several deep breaths trying to control the mask.

Conceal, don't feel, I thought.

Once everything was bottled up, I stretched my fingers to pet my emotional support. Only to find Midnight was not by the pillow like he used to be. I groaned, wondering if he snuck off until feeling vibrations against my feet. The damn cat tends to sleep in the worst places imaginable when I'm home. Growing up, I wasn't a cat person and preferred playing with stray dogs. However, two years after getting my own house, I found a stray black cat in the garden. At first, I did nothing, both of us minding our own business. I named him Midnight for the color of his fur. Midnight stared at me and walked off, taking care of any rodents.

One Winter, I found the cat injured. Unable to resist, I brought the cat inside, tending to his wounds. At first, I tended to his injuries and let him stay for a few weeks until he got better. But as the weeks turned into months, Midnight had gotten closer to me. He would curl to my side when I had my episodes, rubbing himself against me. Using all my energy, I petted him so that, in time, my anxiety dwindled so I could breathe properly.

Therefore, I kept Midnight. Giving him a collar and providing him lodgings. Yes, I feed him. Along with the battle of giving him a bath, we have a symbiotic relationship. So far, I haven't found any rats in the house…. unlike Haymitch. Since I moved out.

After winning my game, I lived with Haymitch until I turned eighteen. The first two years after winning the game divided us somehow. As if Haymitch no longer saw me as his little girl. No, I was no longer that innocent girl. Although I looked like my mother…I had become him. And when the Capitol…. When Snow started having me doing projects and clients, Haymitch and I fell apart. I couldn't balance between my duties at the Capitol and taking care of Haymitch. I was falling apart. I barely had support from my own father. So, I left him in a way. We were neighbors, and I would drop by every day to check on him. But I couldn't live with him.

No matter how I tried to keep his place clean, it was a pigsty. Though I couldn't blame my father, Haymitch. His life was tough. Haymitch was a boy from the Seams in District 12 until he was reaped in the Second Quarter Quells, where the tributes were doubled. Out of forty-eight tributes, Haymitch was the victor. Although his method of winning cost him greatly, using the Arena against the girl from District 1. The consequence was President Snow killing his family and girlfriend after two weeks.

My mother, Lucy Galanthus, was his childhood friend. For three years, Haymitch was alone until Lucy made him see the reason to live. They didn't have the usual courtship, as they married out of convenience. One of their casual sex led to a pregnancy and, therefore, me. Until my mother got cancer in her lungs.

She worked as a geologist going deep into the mines to analyze the material to see if it was profitable. However, the amount of coal dust disrupted her lungs to the point that she was coughing and breathing so irregularly that she would use an inhaler or herbal remedy. Haymitch saw this and tried to convince her to quit working, but she said she wouldn't let herself be dependent. So he manages to get her better medicine from his salary. The Capitol doctors said it was lung cancer stage four. I was eight years old and watched my mother die slowly as she coughed her life out.

For six years, it has been Haymitch and me ever since. Haymitch gave up and started drinking his pain away, along with failing to keep tributes alive until I was reaped.

They rigged the poles. President Snow would continue to torment Haymitch as much as possible. After losing his wife, what better way to remind Haymitch of his insult than reaping his only child. Therefore I was reaped. I proved them wrong, showing that it was difficult to kill an Abernathy. As I won the sixty-ninth Hunger Game fair and square.

Seeing my defiance to die in the Arena, President Snow saw something in me that he took advantage of. A Victor's Child has barely survived from the Arena. Only three, and those two children were from the Career Districts. I was the third, an outsider from the Coal Mining District. I prepared myself, knowing one day I would be reaped. Trained and worked hard while hiding it from others with Haymitch's support. I did what was necessary to Stay Alive.

President Snow saw that and claimed me for his Profit Circle. A ring he has created on selected victors he found useful. As we gathered information and collected money. In the beginning, my voice was Snow's instrument. He made me a singer, performing and entertaining the citizens of the Capitol. But when I turned eighteen, it was no longer my voice Snow wanted. He wanted my body, not for himself, but for others prostituting me.

The first time I lost my virginity to the Profit Circle made a lot of money. Everyone talks about how the first time should be special. How my virginity should be given to someone I trust. Instead, mine was taken by Augusta Flickerman the son of Caesar Flickerman who has been lusting after me for so long. I hated those nights, that any night with someone else better than Augusta. There was Seneca Crane, as he treated me with respect and pleased my body. Yet I don't want to sleep with any of them. For I haven't been intimate with someone that is of my choosing. Haymitch hated this when I came home one time after an aggressive sexual encounter but didn't say anything.

Prostitution has been less in the last two years. As there have been more concerts. I thought cooking and finding hobbies would save me from being used. But it hasn't. For I have become the Capitol's Canary. Especially when President Snow threatens to kill Haymitch. Make his death seem like alcohol poisoning. In other words, poison him. Therefore, my voice and my body became President Snow's property. It was either that or burying my father six feet underground.

Midnight meowed, crawling up till he rested his head on my chest. I sighed and rubbed behind his ear to receive a purr. I smiled and continued to scratch his ears. It wasn't long before the tablet started ringing, indicating a video chat. Midnight got off me so I could adjust myself, sitting up to grab the tablet off the nightstand to see who it was.

It was Finnick.

Accepting the call, I stared at one of my few friends. The screen switched, showing a drenched Finnick sitting on the porch of his beach home. His bronze hair was wet, and his sea-green eyes showed sorrow. Yet when he saw me on the screen, he put his mask on, showing a flirtatious smile.

"Hey, Finnick," I answered with a yawn.

"Hello, sweetheart." Finnick greeted with a flirtatious voice.

"I take it you took a morning swim?" I asked.

"Always," he confirmed. "It's quite refreshing. You should give it a try."

I scoffed, "When the ocean meets the coal mines."

Finnick chuckled, then sighed at that.

I met Finnick once when he won the sixty-fifth Hunger Games during his Victor's Tour. After winning my game, Finnick took me under his wing. He showed me how to survive the aftermath and tend to oneself after a night with a client. Although we don't talk about the threesome we did together. Something I try hard not to think about.

Anyway, Finnick was just like me, waking up in the dead hours of the morning. Checking the clock and doing the math, it had to be three or four o'clock in the morning in District 4. No doubt he also had a nightmare and went for a swim.

"How long have you been back?" I asked.

"Two weeks," Finnick confirmed. "You?"

"A month," I replied, then changed the subject. "How's Mags and Annie?"

A small smile graced his lips at the thought of Annie.

Annie was Finnick's one true love. Finnick may be a womanizer to the Capitol since President Snow forced him into prostitution. But his true love and emotion are to the woman who claimed his heart, Annie Cresta. I only met her a handful of times. Poor thing, she was the victor right after me. She experienced the most traumatizing way than any victor within three generations experiences. I was forced to watch your tribute partner be beheaded. I may have seen Michael's death when wires slit his throat. But the execution was way out of control. It only brings some comfort that Annie has somebody patient enough to wait for her.

". . . She's getting there." Finnick breathed. "In fact, she's getting better. She's talking more to Mags and me. Mags is fine too. ."

"That's good to hear." I said, "So what is so important that you called?"

"Happy Hunger Games!"

When he said that, I stiffened when the realization struck what today was. The nightmare I had a moment ago, and the mile episode made me forget today's date. Damn it, I forgot about the Reaping. Since the 70th, I have intentionally tried to forget about the Hunger Games. Unlike Haymitch, who drinks his sorrows away. When Finnick figured out I was avoiding this subject three years ago. He confronted me, saying my tributes needed me, and then gave me a kiss of luck. Because of him, I could get District 12 Tributes to the final ten but could not get them home.

"Why, oh why, did you have to remind me?" I groaned, banging my head against the headboard.

"Because you asked me too," Finnick replied. "I know this is tough for you, Blaine, but you must focus. Those kids are going to need your help if Haymitch does nothing. Remember, the last tributes made it for so long because of you."

"But I still couldn't save them." I sniffed, about to cry.

"Neither in my department." Finnick breathed. "I could only save Annie ever since."

He's right. Annie was Finnick's only success in District 4 after him. There were a few after Mags, but they have passed away. Mags being in her eighties has shown promise. Then again, she doesn't get involved. When she competed, President Snow wasn't in office. The others did, as they died in mysterious ways, either executed or took their own lives, except for one who died from natural causes. District 4 was not like the other Career districts. Three otherwise victors passed away from old age a few years back.

As of District 12, out of the seventy-three years since the Hunger Games began, there have been three victors. The first victor for District 12 was during the tenth Hunger Games. Her name was Lucy Gray Baird. Not much is known about her since the recording of her game had technical errors, and most of the arena footage was gone. The worst was that Lucy Baird was a victim, murdered by Mayor Lipp…or that is the rumor. No body was found.

And after forty years, it was Haymitch. Twenty years later, it was me. The Abernathys . The ones who fight to stay alive. If our family has a motto, it's that. "Stay alive."

Anyway, I focused back on Finnick. "Is there something on your mind.?"

"Be prepared for what is going to be asked of you," Finnick said. "I heard some rumors that sponsors can ask for favors."

Ever since becoming a Mentor, I have tried to not use my body to seek out favors. It was low and degrading. Yet some sponsors would do anything for flesh.

"I know," I sighed. "I know, Fin."

"Blaine, you know you can lean on me. You're practically a sister to me."

"Thanks, Finnick, I truly appreciate that," I said with a smile as Midnight climbed onto my lap.

Finnick was always like an older brother I never had. In fact, before I was born, Haymitch thought he would have a son. But when the nurse came in with a pink blanket, his world shattered, and he gave me a neutral name. Though he treated me like a girl, I was definitely a tomboy. That made Haymitch proud. But with Finnick, he treated me like a girl, like his sister.

"I better get going." Finnick sighed. "See you at the Capitol.".

"Yeah, see ya." With that said, I hung up.

I continued to pet Midnight before it was time to prepare for the Reaping. I will try harder this year to get at least one of the tribute's home. I was also a sponsor since singing at the Capitol gave me a second account for the Hunger Games. Though I've been using it for medical or emergency reasons for my mentees.

So, getting up, I took a shower, finishing prepping up before styling my long brown hair. Usually, my designer, Chanel, would send me a new suit each year for the Reaping. However, Chanel retired from working on the Hunger Games three years ago but sent me outfits. Things are only different as two new stylists have joined District 12's team. The ones we had since Chanel and her partner left had embarrassed our District. One year they had the tributes out naked, covered in coal dust, for the Parade.

The bag hung on the door. I took a deep breath, opening the bag to see what the stylist had designed. I stopped if not staggered at the garment. It wasn't a suit but a dress.

What the hell? I thought.

I requested a suit, not a dress. Pulling out and hanging it on the door, looking at the outfit this stylist sent me. It was a stretch black bandage dress with silver accent trim around the waist, sleeve cuffs. It was also a V-neckline in the front and back, followed by ribbons in particular places. For some reason, I kind of like it. Sure, it was to my knees, but it also looked sophisticated. Guess when I meet this stylist, I'll thank them.

So, putting it on, followed by black boots, I grabbed my personal belongings in my purse and grabbed Midnight. I never leave him home alone during the long absences. Sure, I smuggle him to the Capitol, but no one truly cares. Besides, Effie loves him.

Ensuring my house was locked, I went to Haymitch's house next door. Midnight hissed, jumping out of my arms. He didn't like the smell. Sighing and I told the cat to wait before going inside. There was a strong odor with a faintness of vomit. No doubt he has been drinking these last few days. I found Haymitch asleep on the couch.

I shook my head, going to the kitchen to fill a bucket of water. When I made my way back, I removed the knife out of his hand then dumped the bucket of water on top of him and then jumped back to avoid any possible attack. The cold water woke Haymitch up instantly. He shot up, swinging his fists widely. Being raised and trained by this man, I blocked his every move and grabbed his arm, pinning him to the table.

"Morning, dad," I sang, kissing him on the cheek.

When he realized it was me, he relaxed. I let him go, and he stood up. "Morning' sweetheart."

With that said, he kissed me on the cheek. Only when we're alone does he act like a father. His reputation was essential to him, though in vain, as he is the town's hermit and the drunk to all of Panam. He eyed my outfit and scowled, shaking his head like any father.

"Whatever. You need to clean up," I ordered. "Today's the reaping, and we got to be there early."

Haymitch mutters some insults about the Capitol. But went up to take a shower while I tried to find him some clean clothes… if there are any left . . . in this dump. I found a decent shirt and some clean pants. Setting them by the door, I made breakfast for us. Mainly cheese buns, bacon, and eggs. I got some juice and put a tablespoon of spirit. I know it's wrong to put fuel on the fire. However, on this day, he needs to let go. This was my life for eleven years. And it's probably going to be like this.

One of the significant changes is making Blaine like Finnick. She is 21 years old now and not 19 in the previous version. So, she has been prostituted several times.

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

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