The Mentor - A Hunger Games Story

14 - AFTER

"Hey there you are!" A voice called him into the backyard, the air filled with barbeque.

The sun was shining, making District 12 look like a much kinder place. The air was clean, no smoke or coal residue.

A small girl opened the gate for him, smiling largely with no two front teeth.

"Hmm, something is different about you." He joked, squatting down to her level. She played with her braids and giggled.

"My teef fell out!"

"No. That can't be it." He picked her arm and threw her over his shoulder. "Did your feet get bigger?"

"No, daddy!" She screamed and giggled as he threw her around playfully.

"Okay, okay, let me see those things!" He finally set her down and peered into her large smile. "Did you lose both those today? I haven't been at work that long!"

"Yep!" She said proudly, sticking out her chest. "Mommy pulled them out!"

"Did she?" Haymitch looked up at Aimee, who was sitting in a lawn chair eating a hamburger. "Was there blood?" He asked his wife, who stuck her tongue out at him.

"I was totally fine!"

"She frew up." Ali whispered with a large smile. Haymitch laughed loudly. He walked behind Aimee's lawn chair and threw his arms around her. She grabbed his forearm and offered her burger to him. He took a bite, wiping his mouth with the other hand.

"Tough day, huh?"

"Much better now." Aimee smiled, pulling Haymitch down for a quick kiss.

"Uncle Harrison! Auntie Maislee!" Ali screamed happily as Harry and Mais walked into the backyard, both carrying casserole dishes of who knows what.

Harry was well in his twenties, looking strong but lean. Maislee was_

Maislee.

"Wait." Haymich stood straight up.

"What's wrong, Mitch?" Aimee asked, sitting up in her lawn chair.

"There he is! Didn't think you would show!" Harry slapped him on the shoulder. Maislee playfully punched him.

"Yeah, I thought this would be a little too wholesome for Mr. Cynic."

"Um."

Haymitch looked at the three faces around him. They weren't supposed to be here. This didn't make sense. And the toddler?

They all died. The toddler ceased to exist.

"Stop it. Stop it. Leave me alone." He shook his head, wanting to disappear into himself.

"Haymitch!"

He came to, sitting straight up off his sofa.

His house was a combination of mildew and beige. Every surface was covered in dust or booze. The television played an old soap opera on mute.

Haymitch squinted, trying to get his bearings.

"Haymitch, move, move, move! We are going to be late!" The shrill voice cut through his muddled head.

"Ow, Effie."

"I told you specifically, don't be hung over on Reaping Day!"

The woman looming over him was dressed in the most ridiculous garb he had ever seen. She always managed to outdo herself from the previous year.

"I'm up. I'm up. Now get out of my house."

She shriveled up her nose, looking at his surroundings.

"Out, Effie."

She scoffed and exited. "Be on time, Haymitch!"

"Yep." He groaned back.

He wiped his face with his hands, still trying to catch his bearings. His dream threw him further off reality than he normally was.

He had something he had to do today.

The Reaping.

Mentoring.

For the thirteenth year in a row, Haymitch pulled himself off his couch, got dressed in his most reasonable attire, and watched as new children had their lives destroyed. And he had to 'help' them. 'Guide' them. Take them step by step until they inevitably die.

He closed his eyes, willing the dream to take him back. He wanted to stay there forever. Never wake up.

"Burger or hot dog, Mitch?" Maislee asked from behind the grill.

"Hot dog."

"Classic."

She brought it over to him, looking healthy and happy. She was dressed in a pink sundress, her hair tied up in a bun, sunglasses on the brim of her nose.

She hesitated before handing him the plate.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Um, trying to eat."

"No, idiot. Being back here." She slapped him on the arm.

"What good am I?" He snagged the plate from her.

"Those kids need you. They need a mentor to give them guidance and friendship."

"Yeah, and I'm perfect for that." He snorted, taking a bite. It tasted like nothing.

"You were for me, dumbass. Now go back."

"I'm done Maislee. I'm done." He admitted, sitting up in his chair. "I'm ready to call it. I'm ready to find you. And Harrison. And Aimee."

"Nope." Maislee grabbed the plate back, giving him a 'I know better than you' look. "Go."

"Fuck, you're annoying."

"Bye!" She said sarcastically, making Haymitch's eyes snap open.

"Fuck." He shook his head, standing up, with some difficulty.

He somehow got dressed and out of his house. Somehow he got to the Reaping stage.

He sat on the stage gloomily watching the innocent children get picked for their death. One girl dramatically screamed and screamed to take her sister's place. It was annoying, honestly. Played out.

Haymitch watched as the slender girl with a long brown braid take the stage out of her own chagrin.

Stupid.

Haymitch's mind floated away from him for a moment, probably induced by alcohol. Once upon a time he had sworn he would do the same thing for Harrison. If it came down to it, he would not have hesitated. It wouldn't be a question.

Haymitch looked down the stage towards the tributes, specifically the girl who took her sister's place.

She was staring right back at him, fire in her eyes.

It was like looking in a mirror.