The Mockingjay's Daughter

Chapter 9

"I don't think you need anymore of that." Birch says and tries to grab the drink.

Haymitch growls, and yanks the drink from his reach, and sticks his foot up, pinning him to his chair. He spills the rest of his spirit onto the floor, and it slowly flows to the back of the car, which makes his even more angry.

"Now look what you've done!" He growls, and throws the glass across the room. It shatters on the ground, following with a very angry Effie.

She shuffles around the broken glass, and walks over to the table.

"Haymitch you better stop-" She starts, "Why exactly is there an indent in the table?"

"Because the little Katniss over here decided to stab it that's why." Haymitch says, "Effie, it looks like we have another Katniss and Peeta here."

"Willow, no stabbing tables! Expecially because that mahogany. Do you not know how much that is worth?" Effie scolds, then Haymitch chimes in.

"And you, you better not do that again." He says, raising a fist to the occasion.

"Stand you two, right now." Haymitch howls.

We both stand, and wait for his reason why. We exchange glances, and stand around like idiots.

"Definitely the next Katniss and Peeta." He says under his breath.

"You two are the exact photo copies of them! Just wait till the Capitol gets a hold of you!" Effie squeals.

I cringe at the word Capitol. I have held every grudge against it, after every story worse and worse. I hate President Snow, and never actually seen him in person. Now, his grand daughter, is president. President Snow. Her eyes match her grandfather's, like a snake. She painted her hair white, so she could he just like her grandfather. Trust me, she is just as bad.

"Now, if you, Birch, do not touch my drinks, ever again, I'll help you both." He says, as he circles us.

"Deal?"

"Fine." Birch snaps, "But only if you stay sober."

"I'll stay sober enough to help you. But I'm not making promises." He snaps.

"Then I can't promise you'll I'll hold my end of the bargain." Birch growls.

"Fine." He says, "I'll stay sober, possibly."

"Now, when we get to the cornucopia-" I start trying to fit in as much as I can.

"Woah. Woah. Woah. Sweetheart, calm down. One thing at a time. In a few minutes you will be put in the hands of your stylist, and trust me, you'll most likely hate what they do to you. But since you sweetheart, are practically the Capitol's darling, you will be treated better." He explains.

"But-" I start, but am quickly cut off by Haymitch.

"No buts. It doesn't matter if you like it or not. Thank your parents sweetheart." He says and leaves the dining car.