Broken Wings

Chapter 26

"The 74th year was probably the last and only time I felt pride of myself, and my tributes, since prior my games." Haymitch says leaving a heavy silence as we all sit, respectfully listening to Haymitch's words. It isn't often he shares. "I'm going now." He clears his throat "I need a drink." Even after he is gone, we all sit in silence as we process the information given today.

The most gut-wrenching story, by far, was the year both the tributes were starved, seam twelve-year-olds. Haymitch had hardly entered the carriage when the girl fell to the floor sobbing, the boy followed soon after. Not knowing what to do Haymitch knelt down to try and talk to them, but as soon as he did, they curled into his arms and sobbed. Haymitch, like me, was never really good at things like that but overdrive kicked in and he held their crying forms for hours. Her name was Ash, his Simon and Haymitch worked as hard as he could, trying everything to save them. Simon died within three days by the career pack that always seemed to form. Ash held out well, but after snow set in the arena she froze to death. Whenever a sponsor sent a blanket someone would steal it from her, many almost killing her in the process. That was Haymitch's sixth year of failure. He gave up hope after that, he did try to help them once they were in the games, but outside he distanced himself.

I think about his words... 'I felt pride for myself, and my tributes.', and I wonder what the last time I was proud of myself? I have felt pride for others, Prim mainly but others joined over time. Peeta was one of them, when he gave the money to the district 11 tributes, but when have I last felt proud of myself. I realise that the last time was probably when I was a young child, before my dad died.

Surprising even myself I start to speak, breaking the silence. "When I was younger my dad would, sometimes, set a snare on the breakfast table before me. he would show me how it works and then tell me to close my eyes and then undo the wire." I close my eyes now in the memory of the command before continuing. "Then he would send me off to school with the specific instructions to only try to tackle the wire during breaks. Since I was never the kind of person surrounded by friends..." Johanna snorts making me open my eyes, but I just chuckle with her while continuing "...I was able to spend my time figuring how to replicate the original snare. I was usually able to figure them out in two days. However, one time my dad set a larger snare before me and showed me how it worked twice before I closed my eyes, saying that this was one of the hardest snare to learn but the easiest to remember. I was cocky and said that id learn it by before the end of the next day." I smile at my naive behaviour, remembering that my father did the same before saying a sarcastic 'sure'. "my father was, as always, right though. The next day came and went and by the fourth day I was about ready to snap the wire. My dad told me to stop for Saturday, but all of Sunday morning I spent on my bed getting to show me how it worked over and over again, then id close my eyes and the straight, and slightly stretched, wire would be returned to me. no matter how hard I tried I couldn't replicate the fine design. By lunch my dad told me to put it down and took me, my mother, and my sister into the woods. At first, I was upset that he took away my wire, but as the day went on, I was refreshed and enjoyed the day playing with my family in one of the best places on earth." I wipe a stray tear from my eye, making Johanna roll her eyes playfully telling me to get on with the story with nothing but humour in her voice. "Fine, where was I?"

"the best day of your life." She replies in a strong capital accent, accentuating the pathetic and cheesy comment. I just glare at her, but not seriously.

"Anyway," I roll my eyes at her, "When we got back from the woods i went to bed without any further thought of the snare. When I woke the next day I shoved the wire into my bag and ate breakfast not focusing on anything but how the snare worked, before heading to school. At recess I tied that wire into every snare I could remember until I got to the newest. When the lunch bell rang, I closed my eyes and just bent and looped that felt right according to my knowledge. After a few failed attempts I took a few deep breaths and tried again, and finally. Finally! It worked and just like my father said I don't think I could ever forget it. Its best for turkeys. That. That was the last time I remember being truly proud of myself." I finish and the room is once again silent.