Haymitch's Hunger Games

Chapter 8: Inevitable

Days passed filled with sweaty training hours, large meals, and awkward silences. Haymitch hadn't spoken to Maysilee since the first training session. It had killed him to ignore her, but he knew it'd be easier if he did. He also felt guilty about Lucy, and vowed never to be too close to Maysilee- it wasn't right. He made sure to lay low in training hours, keeping to the dark unoccupied stations- such as plant identification. As the days sped by, Haymitch started to think about the countless hours awaiting him in the arena. One night as everyone representing District 12, sat down for dinner, Lilya started to cry. Lobster, and shrimp was set out. There were various beverages- wine, and vodka in small crystal glasses, that looked beautiful. Fine china was used, everything looked perfect. 'Whats wrong?' Maysilee asked, with a confused expression splayed across her face. Lilya silently muttered 'my mother would've loved this meal, she loved the fresh, salty fish from District 4- I can't imagine how much she'd adore Shrimp and lobster'. Haymitch felt the need to ask how her mother had tasted fish- but kept it to himself. He also wanted to scream in frustration at how weak, and sad Lilya sounded. Ronald was quiet the whole time, piggishly stuffing his face with sea food. He only stopped once- when Haymitch gave him the nastiest glare he could muster. All Ronald cared about, it seemed, was the food in front of him. Frustration boiled inside him, sadness, ment weakness. Which wasn't how you were going to survive in the upcoming games- by being weak. Also he hated ignorance and these two traits were being shown. He stalked out of the room and ran to his bed room. Haymitch remembered that night with a sigh. Remembering Lilya's weakness made him wonder about how long she'd last in the arena. He didnt think long. And Ronald- young but ignorant Ronald. He was only 12.. And Maysilee. Maysilee who. had been his neighbour for a very long time. But hadnt acknowledged him until the reaping. All these people he knew who were going to die. I'm going to die too, he thought. But then he quickly dismissed the thought, thinking of Colin, His mother, and Lucy. As he laid in bed, awaiting the next last day of training, he allowed his mind to go blank. That night he dreamt of a beautiful bridge. This bridge was made of gold, and was engraved with names of people. After walking down the golden bridge, which led over a shining lake, he started to feel a dawn of reconigition- the names, they were names of all the tributes whom had died. His knees started to buckle as he reached the end of the bridge. It was silent here- an entering to a dark forest. Something screamed inside Haymitch to turn around, but his body wouldn't obey. The shining water below him, turned to a murky swamp. He bent down at the edge of the bridge to read the last of the names, the newest dead. The name read Maysilee Donner. ---------------------------------------------Haymitch bolted upright in bed. Sweat , dampened his sheets, and the air felt hot and muggy making it hard to breathe. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, and reached for the water glass on the side of the night stand. The cold liquid was soothing as it trickled down his throat, and Haymitch willed himself to calm down. Nobody was dead.. Yet.