Happy Hunger Games, Haymitch.

"No"

I saw red. I threw my bottle at the projection and fought back tears. But for who? I finally let them spill. Years of anger and sadness, escaping my body in liquid form. It's a one time thing, as I am to go back into the arena.
I let out a few strained sobs.
But then I realised.
There is no female victor.
I forced myself to sit up and listen, despite my constant sniffling, I managed to reconnect my attention just as the cheering died down.
"As for those districts who don't have the required victors,"
12.
"The places shall be filled by those who are reaped from the residency of the districts."
The crowd practically lost it, cheering and screaming, smiles of pure excitement clouded their faces. Sick bastards.
But then it sunk in.
I was going to be going into the arena with some poor, weak and starved girl from the ever- tired crowds of 12.
I was going to see a child die. In person. I couldn't go through it again. I contemplated suicide before he realised it would mean that a poor young boy would have to face 22 experienced adult murderers.
I dove into my liquor supply, drinking as much as I could before the day came where I would have to look that girl in the eye and tell her that there was nothing I could do to help her.

And it came.
My drinking quietened down as I began to run out of the stuff. I drank almost nothing the day before the reaping, trying to make myself look as disinterested but still engaged as possible. I dressed in the least moth-bitten, alcohol ridden suit I could find, and walked to the justice building. Soon, I was asked to go outside, as crowds started to pile in, their faces filled with dread, especially the girls, as I'm sure they've realised the same thing as I have. The boys, they look smug but still worried.
I look at the bowls, on the boy's side, there is one single slip, on the girls side, there are thousands. Anyone who hadn't realised up until now, had just figured it out.
Effie spoke about the Capitol, how great they were, blah blah blah, then explained the rule change. Just to make sure that everyone was terrified, she laughed slightly. She disconnected from me after Katniss died. I'm sure she loved her.
She dove her hand into the boy's bowl, a little too enthusiastically, and pulled out my slip.

"Haymitch Abernathy!" She shouted, looking at me to come and join the stage next to her, with daggers for eyes.
"Didn't see that coming!" I muttered, still loud enough for the cameras to pick up.
Even though I knew it was coming, I still felt the nerves as I did from my first games. Muffled, but there. I think she noticed, as her eyes softened from spiteful to indifferent.
Then she made her way to the girl's bowl, and hovered slightly, and then pulled out the slip, making her way to the microphone, smiling.
I don't know why, but I was terrified for the girl. Remembering back to my games, and the fear. I shuffled unconfortably, and waited anxiously for her to announce it.

"Laven Windermore!" She announced with a flutter. Laven. As in lavender.
The girl made her way up to the stage, the fear showing in her little face.
Oh hell, she can't be more than 12 years old!
I let a muffled "no" out, and I don't know why.
I feel sorry for her, I really do, and as she climbed the stage, I tried to shoot her the most sympathetic look that I could.
Her Auburn hair fell onto her face as she looked to me, horrified. Her blue blouse reminded me too much of Katniss, and I looked away, trying to stop myself from some kind of emotional outburst.
"Shake hands, you two!" Effie twitters, and I find myself turning slowly towards the girl.
She outstretches her trembling hand, and I take it in mine, and to my surprise, she visibly calms down, and I give her tiny hand a sympathetic squeeze.
We both let go, and Effie announces that the reaping ceremony is over, wishing us all a 'happy hunger games', then the anthem plays and me and the girl are escorted to the justice building. Justice my ass, you've sent an innocent girl to die.