One Last Game -Haymitch Abernathy-

Chapter 12

Day eight of The Hunger Games. Both her tributes were still alive, for the most part. There was more shown of Katniss, who was conscious. She was awake, had been since the previous day. Rue was still with her, and they were formulating a plan. They wanted to figure out what the Careers were doing and planned to create fires to lure them away. Amelia knew that Katniss had gotten the idea from her, and it made her proud. Katniss was showing several attributes and how intelligent she was. 

For the first time, Amelia felt her fears start to leave. There was a real shot at Katniss winning, and that was a huge relief to her. But that wasn't good for Peeta. He was hurt and badly. He had taken shelter by the river, but his health was failing. There were three Careers left, and if they found him. Well, Amelia didn't want to think about what they would do to him.

She tried not to watch the games, but try as she might, she always failed. Eventually, Haymitch kicked her out. Wanting her to do anything but watch the games. Which was how she found herself with Cinna. The man was a gifted stylist, and his work had become more popular this year. "Hold still," Cinna pinned another piece of red fabric to her.

"Wasn't planning on moving," Amelia muttered. The outfit he was designing was no doubt for someone high up in the Capitol. It was heavy and ridiculously red. "Who's this for? One of Snow's minions?"

Cinna glared at her, and Amelia sighed. A few others in the room, other stylists that worked for him, stared at her. As if speaking negatively of their President was a crime. Amelia wondered if it was. It probably was. President Snow was, in her words, insane. He was a horrible person, a ruthless ruler. Anyone who wipes out an entire family and doesn't bat an eye can't be right in the head.

Amelia often wondered how many others experienced what she did—losing their entire families. There was Haymitch. He experienced exactly what she did, but they coped differently. There had to be others, and Amelia felt sorry for them. Losing everything after experiencing the games wasn't something she wished on her worst enemy. Not even on Snow, no matter how much she hated him. "You'll have to be careful," Cinna whispered to her. "Not everyone shares the same beliefs."

Amelia glanced at the group in the corner again. They were muttering amongst themselves. "They would understand if they had to experience the games." She fully believed that. "Or even had the chance to." People in the Capitol were off-limits in the games. Only the districts paid that price.

"I know." Cinna was different than most of the others in the city. He was understanding and kind. As if he knew what it was like, but he didn't.

"You're a great stylist," she began. "Why did you ask to work for District 12?"

His fingers froze as if he was shocked by the question. Something nobody asked him before. His first year working as a stylist for the games was her year, or so she assumed. Amelia then learned he had asked for District 12. "Well," Cinna pinned another piece of fabric to the bottom. "I think some of the best tributes come from there. Don't you think?"

"If you're referring to the people before me," she pushed the hair out of her face. "I'm sure they were really eye-catching."

"Well, after you," Cinna stood up to face her. "I realized what real determination was. Real strength." Amelia was slightly surprised by his words. "And I didn't want to miss another moment." He cleared his throat and swiftly grabbed a headpiece. Moving closer he placed it on her head, the lace covering most of her face. "I made the right choice."

"Cinna-"

"Oh my god," Effia aggressively clapped her hands together. "You look stunning." Both Cinna and Amelia looked at the doorway, where her voice was coming from. Beside Effie was Haymitch, who slowly lowered a flask from his lips. "I can't believe you got her to agree."