Haymitch's Hunger Games.

Chapter 2.

I wake up to the smell of pine trees, and the always present atmosphere of tenseness in District 12. My mother smooths down my hair and looks at me in the eyes. The colour of her eyes are rich like chocolate, and soft as fur, when she is happy, but when cross, quickly become the rocks the ships shatter against in the storms. My mother is a strong character, who has been through a lot. My father was killed in a coal mining accident, about 5 years ago so now it is just me, my little brother and her. We have all been inches away from death but have still made it through. She frowns at me, but quickly smiles, like she is trying to cover the fact that she has dreaded this day for so long. I sigh and stretch my legs. They are unconveniantelly long, and so are my arms. I'm 16, which means my name is entered 5 times plus 3 for tesserae for me, Dylan and  my mother, and then plus all the other years I've been in, making a grand total of 24 slips of paper with my name on them. It is quite a few times, but it's better than us starving to death. I brush myself down and look in the mirror. I push my long hair out of my face and change into my best trousers and shirt. My mother comes in from the kitchen and whimpers a little.
" It's ok mom, don't worry." I say to her calmly. Patting her on the back, and try to hold back the tears that I know are coming.
" But if you get chosen-" she starts but I cut her off.
" I won't be," I say, although I have never been less sure of anything in my life. She gets worried like this at every reaping. I remember when I was 13 it was especially bad. She almost fainted when someone with nearly the same name as me was chosen.
      I lie back down on my bed, on the soft quilt my mom made me when I was a baby. Drifting in and out of sleep, I think of all the times I have been to a reaping. I remember at my first reaping I had been so scared I ran away, until my mum found me and brought me back. She told me I couldn't run away from my problems, and that the odds were in my favour. I close my eyes and picture the justice building, and the horrendous women who picks out the boy and girl. She has green hair, which is apparently fashionable in the Capitol. Hopefully I'll never have to go there. Her name is Pillie, one if the most ridiculous names I've ever heard.
           My brother, who turned 12 yesterday, comes running into the room. He hugs me and I put my arm around him.
"Hey little man, how are you?" I ask, knowing how nervous he is.
" Good, I guess," he tells me, but I can see he is lying.
"Hey what's the matter?" I ask warmly, pulling him nearer. He looks up at me with his big blue eyes and blows his brown curls out of his face. My brother is a great kid. He's kind, and selfless, and one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. He gets bullied a lot because people say he is fat. The main bullies at his school are total dumbos. They have no life, and find joy in ruining other people's. Last year, they made up a rumour that my brother was cheating on his then girlfriend, who it turns out was just messing with him. Everyone says it's weird how he's so fat, because our family is so poor. This usually gets them a fist to the mouth, courtesy of me. His name is Dylan, and he's my best friend. When my dad died, he was only 7, and didn't really realise what was going on, and I've always felt responsible for him ever since. After a few minutes of silence he finally begins to speak.
"The boys at my school," he looks down again as I can see he is starting to cry.
"They said I better get reaped today, or they will kill me themselves," he sobs. I hug him tight and talk into his ear quietly.
"Maybe you should tell someone, it sounds like they are threatening you,"
"No one will care. Not today. Not anyday. Everyone just thinks I'm a liar,"
"Oh Dylan," my mother says walking over and hugging us.
"Don't you worry, now. Those boys won't come anywhere near you, not whilst your brothers around," she reassures him. I smile now, but the fear of today come rushing back to me. 24 times.
"You won't be reaped, your name is only in there once," I tell him as well. He smiles now and wipes his face.
"Thanks," Dylan says to me and my mom, and with that he walks out of the room.
As i sit up I hear loud footsteps outside and suddenly the door bursts open and I jump back a little. Bertha bounds in and practically jumps on me. Luckily, I manage to hold my weight and hug her back. Bertha is one of the rare people that I like. We have known each other since we were babies and are pretty close. In fact, last month, with the looming reaping day in my mind, I asked her to be my girlfriend and she said yes. It was a great day, but today behind her usual mask of smiles and laughter, I can see that she is worried. Her ginger hair is tied back in a ponytail, and she wears a silk dress, which is awfully out of place in my shabby house. Her eyes are sparkling, and sea green, unlike my grey eyes, that show that I am from the Seam.
          "Hey," I say smiling at her as she says hello to my mum.
"Hey," she says back, but she sounds different. Not her usual bubbly self, but different. Like she is holding back tears, just like my mother
" actually I need to talk to you about something," she mutters, so that my mother can't hear.
"Ok sure," I say, and I realise that even my voice sounds different. Bertha takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen and sits down at our dining table.
"I'm worried," she says, looking at the floor. I sit down next to her and take her hand again.
"About what?" I ask, although I think I know what.
" what do you think, dumbo?" She says sarcastically.
" sorry, I know, the reaping," I mumble. I look at her and she is shaking, tears leaking down her face.
"Mitch, last night I was doing some maths, and this year was my first year getting tesserae, and I've been getting tesserae for two years, for me, my mum, my older brother, my little brother and my little sister. Haymitch my name is in their 25 times ... " She murmurs.
" oh." I say in a husky voice. She puts her head on my shoulder, crying her eyes out. Two years ago, Bertha's dad had been killed in a coal mining accident, meaning she couldn't afford food anymore. Her mother ran a small stall in the black market, selling string that she makes and other things. But it didn't make as much money as her fathers job. The past two years she has had to get tesserae. I had asked if she was sure what she was doing and she said yes. I ask the question that I know she is dreading.
" That's 25 out of thousands of slips of paper, it not gonna be you," I reassure her, although this is the only thing you can say in this situation.
" And if it is?" She asks.
"Then you will fight, and so will I if it is me." I tell her, wiping away her tears. She doesn't say anything bit squeezes my hand in response. We walk back out into the living room, and sit down on my bed, until the peacekeepers say that horrid announcement.
" Please can all children between the ages of 12 and 18 gather in front of the Justice building, the reaping will soon begin. Please note that this year is the second quarter quell, meaning that 4 tributes, 2 boys and 2 girls will be selected. Any one not present at the reaping shall be visited in their home, and if not terminally ill, will be punished in the severest of ways."
        As me, Dylan and Bertha walk towards the town centre I start to lose what little confidence I already have. I see a little girl, who barely even looks twelve, hugging her mother, crying and howling. A peacekeeper soon interrupts her and forces her away. Her mother watches as her daughter is carried away with dead eyes. She looks around, her eyes resting on me, and I quickly look away. But as I walk past her house I can feel her eyes on the back of my neck. I see a mother flatten down a boys hair far more than it actually needs to be, and straighten his shirt multiple times. I stare as he holds his mothers trembling hands as they try to do up his buttons. He looks her in the eyes and kisses her on the cheek. I think he is whispering something in her ear, when he looks at me. He doesn't look at me like I have offended him, he just stares at me, almost looking confused. Hastily looking away,  I quicken my pace, but can still feel his eyes on me. Last of all, I see a woman screaming, lying on the ground. A peace keeper is trying to pick her up, dragging her away from a child getting their finger pricked. The woman swings out and kicks the peacekeeper in the shins, causing an explosion of movement. All the peacekeepers in a ten metre radius pounce on her, beating her senseless, in a flail of arms and legs. Someone shouts for them to stop, so a peacekeeper pulls out his gun.
"Next one of you grungy miners to disobey us will get a bullet right through your filthy head!" He barks. People back away but one pitiful man steps forward, attempting a tackle. The peacekeeper stays true to his word and  the man falls to the floor, and puddle of blood leeching out from him, across the pavement soaking my shoes. I carry on walking.
         When we get to the justice building, I turn to Bertha and give her my most convincing smile.
"I'll see you later," I promise her. She smirks and pushes my dark, curly hair behind my ear.
"You too dumbo," she replies, and with that, she blends into the crowd of other 17 year old girls, nervously standing and staring at the podium. I turn to Dylan and hug him.
"You'll be alright little man," I say. He doesn't answer, but just buries his head in my arm. I bite my lip to stop myself from crying, and join the other boys. Time passes and I'm shoved into over guys, all too anxious to push back and laugh about it, like they do at school. Suddenly the Capitol's anthem blasts through the speakers surrounding the justice building. I look around and see the twelve year olds covering their ears. I smile, and quickly stop myself. The video being shown explains why we have these dreadful games. I listen to the video try to justify the bloodbath that happens every year, but don't look at it, because it disgusts me so much. I see other people doing the same, and suddenly feel overwhelmingly angry. I take a deep breath, and unclench my hands that I don't even remember clenching. I wipe the sweat from my brow, even though it is one of the coldest days we have had this year. When the video ends, Pillie Maple (the escorts for our district) walks up on stage and starts to speak. She explains the rules of the Hunger Games. Basically what she is saying is 'kill or be killed.' When she is finished the mayor stands up and gives a short speech, that I know he hates giving. He has three daughters, who are all entered this year. I see in his eyes that he does not at all condone what is happening, but they lack the spark of the rebels they show being executed on the Capitol television. I don't think he could hurt a fly. After the mayor is finished, Pillie stands back up and smiles (quite terrifyingly) at the crowd.
"Ladies first!" She chants in her annoying, shrill voice. Slowly she walks towards the girls bowl and pulls out a name. Carefully, she unfolds it and reads it out.
" Daisy Harper!" Somewhere in the crowd of parents I hear a faint cry, and the little girl I saw earlier stumbles up to the podium. She doesn't say anything and stands there, petrified. I can tell she is from the Seam just by looking at her because of her grey eyes. Pillie proceeds to walking over to the bowl again. I almost forgot. This year there is 48 tributes going in. Twice the blood. Twice the entertainment factor. Pillie dawdles for a moment but eventually pulls out a name.
"Maysilee Donner!" I let out a sigh of relief and wipe my brow again. When this name is called out there is some slight trouble in the crowd. Two girls are desperately clinging onto another girl. They are all blonde, and I can tell from their clothes that they are merchants daughters. This brings me slight joy at first, but then I realise that no one, not even a merchants child deserves this fate. I have seen the girl in the sweet shop quite a lot. I always wonder around in there, even when I'm not buying anything, just staring at the multicoloured, delicious confectionary, and I am never kicked out. I think her parents own it. Eventually the girls let go, and one of them departs for the podium.
"My my what a surprise! A merchants child! How many times was your name in their sweetie?" The revolting women asks.
" 5," she stutters, choking on her own tears. I again hear crying in the parents crowd but I keep my eyes focused on the podium. Pillie,taking no notice of these tears, pushes Maysilee in the direction of Daisy Harper and Maysilee walk over to her.
" and now for the boys!" She grabs a piece of paper and unfolds it torturously slowly.
" Michael Barker!" He walks past me and I can't help but notice how much he stinks of sweat. I can hear him taking short, panicky breaths when he shuffles past me so someone pats him on the back. He takes no notice and keeps walking, as if in a trance. The guy looks about 14 and not very strong. I don't expect him to last. He walks onto the stage and doesn't stop at the podium, just stands on the left side, and looks at the floor. Pillie plunges her hand into the bowl for the last time and snatches a piece of paper out. I'm almost safe, I'm almost free to enjoy one more year with Bertha, and Dylan is almost safe too. She calls out the name and I barely even register it. Until every pair of eyes turns my way and I realise.
The name was Haymitch Abernathy.