Haymitch's Love: The Untold Story

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Haymitch: Love At First Sight

Haymitch remembers the day he had met her quite clearly. It was in September, on one of the very last days of summer, when he was just eleven years old. The sun was shining brightly from a place high overhead and the air was balmy with a lazy breeze. Every September, on unusually warm days like that, his mother would send him under the fence that separated District Twelve from the forest, to pick apples. Doing this, of course, is illegal, but apples are such a rare treat in the District, that Haymitch just couldn't refuse the job.

He made his over to the meadow where most of the weak spots in the fence were and listened carefully to hear the hum that indicated if the electricity was turned on; like most days, it wasn't. He then cautiously slid on his belly underneath the metal wires and, once he was inside the forest, ran deep into the trees, concealing himself completely from the rest of District Twelve. With a basket to carry apples and a knife for protection, he slowly made his way to the field of apple trees, which was not too far from the fence. Once there, he could breathe again; he no longer had to worry about being caught, at least at that moment.

He climbed the trees with ease, enjoying the greenery, dropping apples into the buckets, fantasizing of the sweet sauce his mother would soon make with the delectable fruits. He went about his task in silence and only stopped to enjoy the occasional breeze ruffling his hair, the merry buzzing of insects, or cheerful chirping of mockingjays that surrounded him. But something was different. Somewhere in the distance floated back something strange. It was singing. The mockingjays sound had turned into something that he heard only a human could have taught them. He recognized the tune as something his mother had sang to him when he was a small child.

Intrigued by the voice, he jumped from his tree and, using the mockingjays' voices as guides, flew through bushes towards the source of the sound. Finally, he seemed to see what, or rather who, was the creator. The mockingjays had led him to a pond where a skinny girl, about his age, swam, singing with a beautiful voice that would suit a much older woman. Indeed, she sounded magical; he could definitely listen to her all day. He stood there transfixed, concealed by the trees, watching the girl in awe for as long as he dared. As she sang, she frolicked and slpashed in the water, basking in the sun, running her fingers through her hair.

He did not know how it happened, but all of a sudden, he had tripped to the ground and his hiding spot among the leaves was no more. The girl's head snapped up at the sound of breaking branches and she let out a spontaneous scream. They were both forbidden to be here, but maybe this was her special spot, perhaps she came to swim and relax here often. Her eyes wide, she swiftly sunk back down to her chin in water and stared at him in disbelief.

Scrambling clumsily up from the ground, Haymitch stuttered and stumbled on his words.

'Sorry, I- I… didn't hope to d-d-isturb you, but-'

She merely looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

He took a deep breath. 'What's your name?' he finally asked.

She eyed him suspiciously and ever so slightly lifted her head out of the water. 'You first...'

'Haymitch,' he answered. 'Haymitch Abernathy.'

'Alright, Haymitch,' she emphasized his name as if to poke fun. 'Turn around while I get out.'

He was confused until he noticed a pile of raggedy clothes on the ground; the girl was naked. He turned to face the surrounding forest and dropped down to the ground, crossing his legs. Behind his back, the girl shot him annoyed looks as she hastily pulled on her clothes.

'You never told me your name,' he said suddenly.

She walked over to him wearing a pair of mud-stained shorts and a baggy, hole infested shirt. An absence of shoes exposed completely bare, dirt caked feet.

'My name,' she said. '…is Nemit Danrose.' She stuck out a bony hand to pull him up from the ground.

He looked curiously at the girl. Her face seemed familiar, and now that he could see her up close he realized that she was a girl from his school, in his grade. Despite just being in the water, there was dirt smeared on her cheeks and her fingernails were filthy. He eagerly grabbed her hand anyway.

'So what are you doing here in the woods, Haymitch? Don't you know that it's illegal?' She taunted.

'Picking apples for my family is a step up from what you're here doing!' He snapped, without really thinking.

'If you must know, I was trying to get a few hours away from the stupid old woman at the home!' She shot back angrily.

The home? Did she mean the community home? That's the place where abused children go, the ones who have no family to take care of them. He looked down at his feet in embarrassment.

'Sorry,' he said quickly.

'It's fine,' she replied in a hard voice.

She stared him straight in the face for quite some time, as if trying to decide if she liked him or not.

Abruptly, Nemit took his hand and lead him towards the pond and the two sat, dipping their feet through the cool water for what seemed to be hours. As the glowing sun slowly fell further and further into the sky, the two were content to sit silently. The silence between them was not awkward; on the contrary, Haymitch thought it to be a nice change for some company. Finally, deciding his initial task should be finished, he asked if she wanted to finish apple picking with him.

'Alright,' she agreed. 'I've never tasted an apple before.'

Together they left the pond and ventured out to the field. When they got there, she gleefully climbed one of the tallest trees as if she were a squirrel and belted out a song for all of the mockingjays to hear. Once again, Haymitch was stunned by that voice. The children laughed and played in a way he hardly ever got to; he barely had any friends at school. When the evening mist had begun to arise, he told her that he should be on his way home before dark.

'Oh,' was all she said. But before he turned to leave she decided to ask one more question. 'Meet me here tomorrow?'

Taken aback, he managed to get out a perplexed 'sure'.

She grinned widely from ear to ear and unexpectedly leaned forward, pecking him softly on the cheek.

'Thanks Haymitch.'

And before he had time to react, Nemit swiftly turned away and, despite having no shoes, ran through the trees like a gazelle, leaving him completely dumbfounded, the scent of honeysuckle still wavering around him, stronger than ever. He slowly pressed a finger to his cheek, to the spot where the feel of her lips was still fresh.