The Simpson's Hunger Games

Chapter 6

Millhouse:

I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach and my head felt like it had been hit repeatedly by a truck. I groan and turn my head into the pillow. That's when I realise it isn't a pillow. The thing I had laid my head on is warm and soft. It's orange. Uh oh. My heart skips a beat, and I look up, and stare into the face of Lisa. She isn't awake yet, luckily. I look around where we are, and see we're on the roof terrace. I've never been here before, I'm sure. Me and Lisa are sitting on a bench, well, Lisa is, and I'm half-lying on it, my head in Lisa's lap. What happened last night? No matter how much I try, I can't think past Lisa walking out the room, then supper, then that talk with Snake. I shudder, then try to sit up, my mind silently protesting. I can't stay with my head in Lisa's lap, she would be freaked out, I tell myself angrily. I sit up. Suddenly, I realise I have a bandage on my right arm, which definitely wasn't there before. What time is it anyway? Looking at my watch, I read 6.00AM. At least it isn't late. Clancy would be furious if we were late today. Today we have to be taught by Snake and Clancy and our stylists how to act in the Capitol Interviews.

The famous interviews. With none other than the Game's famous host, Aristotle Amadopolis, Simpnem's most famous face. Other than President Skinner and Akira of course. He is the person who delivers the Games to the Nation, describing every detail, every killing, every personality. Every weakness. Aristotle has a two-faced character. In the interviews, he is charismatic, makes out he's on your side, in some way, but as soon as you're in that arena, safely away from him, he can turn the Capitol against you in a heartbeat with just a few words. If you impress Aristotle, you're safe. If not, you're doomed. Lost in thought, I don't even hear Lisa wake up, and say my name. She has to repeat it, before I hear her.

"Oh, sorry Lis! What did you say again?", I ask her, clutching my head, which still feels like a bouncy ball. I notice she flinches at her nickname. I wonder why. I hope I didn't say anything to offend her last night. With a strained smile, Lisa repeats, "Hey Millhouse", and gets off the bench. I stand up with her, towering over her small frame. "What happened last night? I don't remember, I hope I didn't offend you!", I say worriedly, running my hands through my hair, and straightening my glasses. Lisa smiles a real smile, and says I didn't, and explained that she walked up to the terrace when she was bored last night, and saw me, drunk, leaning over the railing. I frowned when she said this. Me, drunk? Usually it's Bart that gets wasted, not me. I swallow hard when I think of my best friend. Lisa giggles when she sees my expression. "I could barely believe it either!", she laughs, and tells the rest of her story, "I saw you were bleeding, so I patched you up, and we sat on the bench. We must of ended up falling asleep", she ends her story and I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn't do anything stupid then.

Lisa:

"What happened last night? I don't remember, I hope I didn't do anything to offend you!", Millhouse says, his forehead creased with worry. So, he doesn't remember. Good. I silently tell myself off as I feel a sinking feeling in my stomach. It's better he doesn't know what happened last night. It's better for both of us. I tell him the basics of what happened, forcing myself to laugh and joke with him. I don't tell him what he said, and I probably never will.

Flashback:

After I go out the room, away from the Capitol scores, I run into my room and bury my head in the pillows, trying to take myself somewhere far away, away from the Games. Clancy knocks on my door once, saying it's time for dinner, but when I don't answer she goes away. No one disturbs me, and I go to sleep soon. I wake up when it's dark outside, and the bright lights of the Capitol come from outside. I close the curtains, and try to go back to sleep. But I can't. I keep picturing my family, and Springfield, and no matter how hard I try, I can't get them out of my head. I pace up and down, and eventually make the decision to open the door, and step outside. It's dark in the corridor, and I can hear snores coming from the rooms next to me: Clancy's and Snake's. When I pass Millhouse's door though, everything is silent.

I explore the building and walk up and down corridors. Finally, I take the stairs and walk all the way up to the top. I get to the roof, and walk out onto a terrace I've never seen before. I see a figure leaning onto the railings, swaying slightly. Uncomfortable, I back away, but I hear the figure say in a slurred voice, "Lisa?", and I look back and see none other than Millhouse, standing there, with a half-filled bottle of alcohol in his hand. "You're drunk?", I say in disbelief, and Millhouse grins. "It's amazing!", he shouts, putting his free hand into a fist and punching it to his chest like a gorilla. I can't help but laugh. He grins again, and laughs with me. "So, how did you find yourself here?", he asks me, " 'Cus I don't remember how I got here!", he takes a swig from the bottle, and my laugh cuts short. I don't like to see him like this, it isn't him. "Oh, you know, I wondered around", I answer briefly, "How did you start drinking in the first place?". But, he ignores my question, and glares. He says outraged, "You've been crying, who did this to you?", and I feel slightly flattered. "The scores. I don't like my score", I say quietly, and Millhouse gently wipes my tear-stained face with his thumb.

He pulls me into a hug, and holds me close, swearing about the Capitol quietly. Sober Millhouse would never do this, and I find myself liking Drunk Millhouse. Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, and the redness on my cheeks, I say, "You're lucky. You have a good score. I know I got a 12, but I don't want it, and everyone will expect so much from me and I can't...", I break down into tears, and Millhouse puts down the bottle, and rubs my back soothingly. "If I could swap places with you I would", he says into my hair, "But I know you will do well, you'll win with a score like that", he laughs slightly, sounding like a clown hiding behind tears.

Millhouse slowly looks down at me. "We'll get through this, Lisa. You and me will make it all in one piece, I swear." Tears fill my eyes, but I wipe them away as subtlety as I can. I sniff the fabric of Millhouse's shirt. It smells expensive, slightly muffled by the smell of even more expensive alcohol. I raise my eyebrows as I remember for the third time that, yes, my brother's best friend is in the Games with me, and yes, he is hugging me tightly, the bottle he is holding cutting into the fabric of my dress. Millhouse pecks me on the cheek, and releases me. My eyes widen, my hand flying up to my face. If Millhouse notices, he doesn't seem to care.

He starts to jump around, his arms flying around. This time I don't laugh at him for making an idiot of himself. He smashes the bottle on the rails of the roof terrace that prevent us from landing on the street, more in liquid form than solid. I gasp, as the glass smashes, separating into two pieces. Millhouse keeps the one remaining in his hand, and whirls it around like a conductor holding a baton. He really is drunk. Accidently, he wields the glass into his arm, fresh blood coming from the wound he made.

I think I should stop him now. The blood is bleeding all down his shirt, and onto the floor. I put my hand on his good arm, and plead for him to stop. Surprisingly, it works. "I'm... sorry I kissed you.", he says quietly , and I act as if I hadn't heard him. Millhouse becomes silent as I lead him into the building to look for a first aid kit. I find one quickly, and lead him back onto the roof, where I can see more clearly. I clean and bind the wound, Millhouse still not saying anything. Then, I collect the pieces of glass, and hide them in a nearby plant pot. Millhouse stares at me with haunted eyes, and I feel awful for him. I will myself to tell him that I actually don't mind that he kissed me on the cheek, dangerously close to the mouth. I can't tell him a lie though. I sit down on a bench, leading Millhouse with me. He sits down beside me, and I rest my head on his shoulder, as a peace offering, letting him assume what I think. He smiles, and wipes his dirty glasses on his equally now-dirty white t-shirt.

We sit in silence for a while, and Millhouse soon goes to sleep. His head falls into my lap, and I keep it there, absentmindedly playing with his short hair, and soon drift off into a dream myself.

End of Flashback

I sigh quietly and resolve that Millhouse should never know that any of this happened.