The Victor

Panem's Bad Boy

And so I won. Survival of the luckiest. That's all it was. That's all it ever is. The Careers train their whole lives and look where it gets them. Me, I just had my wits and a prayer, neither of which have ever helped me in the past.

"So Haymitch, how are you?" I think Caesar Flickerman is a vampire. That's the only logical way I can explain his lack of aging. He's been doing the games since I was a kid. It's weird, I kind of see him like a myth. Like everything about the Capitol, he always seemed unattainable. Now he's 3 feet away from me, paling around, complimenting me on my outfit, things I assume real Capitol people do.
"Alive." The crowd eat it up, they love my direct way of talking.
Caesar chuckles, which gives me a twinge of gratification; sure he laughs at everything, but it seemed slightly more genuine this time around.

  "That you are! You're the nation's favorite bad boy and all of Panem was rooting for you, though our parents would never approve." He winks at the crowd with a hearty laugh.
  "Well it's nice to know someone had my back while I was out there."
  "Tell us Haymitch, how did you do it?"
  What? You don't know? Don't tell me there was something better on that day!" The crowd goes wild.
"Oh of course not, we were all glued to the screen, we couldn't look away!"
"I hope it wasn't just because viewing is mandatory!" I raise my eyebrow and point to reinforce the playful banter. The crowd is in an uproar now; I take a peek and see a few people laughing on the floor.
"Don't you just love his candor, people?"  Caesar gestures towards me with both hands and the audience lets out in thunderous applause.

    "In all seriousness Caesar, seeing that pebble bounce back off the force field was just as shocking and wonderful as I imagine it was watching it from home. The force field was to keep us in, but I guess they didn't account for it being my way out." The crowd was silent now, hanging on to my every word.
    "We all watched as that pebble came back! I know I'm not the only one but did anyone else see that glint in his eye?" Chimes from the audience rang out answering his rhetorical question. "The idea seemed to come to you like a flash of light!"
   "Honestly, I knew I had something I could use, but the idea didn't come to me until the last minute."
   "Thinking on your feet, I love it!"
   "You feel like a caged animal, you didn't ask to be there, you were forced. But then something crazy happens, you figure out how to use those bars to pick the lock. And much to your captor's chagrin, you're free.  Almost poetic, don't you think?"

   "Now Haymitch, I know you're itching to get home so this'll be my final question, because it's on everyone's mind. District 12 hasn't had a victor is quite some time and you managed to win this without a mentor. What's your secret for other tributes?"
   "Mentor or no mentor, it's just you in the arena. The odds are never in our favor, in fact most of the time they're stacked against us. Unless you're from 1, 2, or 4, we tell ourselves we don't have a chance. I was reaped as a dead man, I came to this city as a dead man, I trained and did interviews as a dead man. And when I rose up into that arena I was ready to become what I had already accepted I was for the last five years. It's a frightening thing, having to think from age 12 to 18 that this year could be your last. It beats you down in a way no Peacekeeper ever could. I guess my point is, don't let the prospects of death stop you from fighting for your right to live. If you're about to be forced into the arena like I was, like Maysliee Donner, Rae Lipped, and Mose Blacker and countless other over the last 49 years, my only advice is to force your way out."
  "Thank you, Haymitch. Ladies and gentlemen, once again, your victor of the 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy!"