Haymitch's Love: The Untold Story

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nemit: Friends?

Nemit wakes up from a chilly draft blowing on her bare, exposed legs. Her body from the knees up is bundled in at least four different wooly quilts, sewn by the witch -Ms. Abernathy, she corrects herself-. A quiescent Haymitch has his arms heavily wrapped around her, adding to the warmth. She rises gingerly from her place, careful not to disturb him, and reaches over his body to shut the open window. Judging by the light outside, it is about five a.m.

A silver chain with a pink jewel attached dangles from her neck to rest on her bare chest. The jewel had been her grandmother's; the only semi valuable possession she now owns, she had been told by the home. But she disregards the many urges to sell it; the necklace is worth much more to Nemit than money. Besides being the only remaining possession from her family that she has, the sentimental value also reaches out to Haymitch. On her fifteenth birthday Haymitch had surprised her by attaching a silver chain to the jewel.  Since then, she can't remember the last time she took the thing off.

Nemit looks over at Haymitch's figure and takes in the image of the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.  His peacefulness causes a wave of sadness and despair to wash over her as she recalls what this day could possibly bring.  To the birds, leaves, trees, and squirrels, today is just another day.  If it weren't for the reaping, things would go on as normally as ever.  It would be just another day in which she could spend all her time with Haymitch. But it isn't, so there's no point in harping on it, she thinks bitterly to herself.

She stares at him, feeling sick at the thought of his name being called. Compared to some of the older kids she knows back at the home, yes, the odds are in his favor, but that's no guarantee.  Her heart pounds incredulously as she imagines the scene that will take place later today.  She can already taste the fear of the crowd, see the absolute terror in the eyes of the boys and girls waiting to be sacrificed, the boys and girls who know that their odds for death have been doubled...  The months leading up to this year's Hunger Games have been a somber time for District 12.  The air looms with the knowledge that District 12 will lose twice the amount of children as usual.  Twice the amount of children to be murdered... 

She tries her best to stop thinking about the reaping, to focus on this very moment, but knows that this nagging feeling will only leave her completely at the end of the day, once she is positive Haymitch will be safe. She sighs and plops back down onto the pillow, snuggling closer to him in the mesh of blankets. No point in waking him up now and disturbing his passive dreams, bringing him back to cold, cruel reality.

After a painful hour of tossing and turning, Haymitch finally stirs. He yawns, scrunching his face and stretching out his arms, then looks Nemit straight in the face, giving her his classic smirk that always leads her to presume he knows something that she doesn't. Perhaps this early in the morning the effect is not so great by the cause of his drowsiness, but nonetheless, she returns his smile.

'Sleep well?' she asks.

'Better than usual.' He bounces his eyebrows humorously. 'Know what time it is?'

'Probably around six thirty,' she replies, yawning herself.

'Then we should get going now; don't want to be here when mom and Mel come home, right?'

'Definitely not,' she agrees.

She reluctantly rolls out of bed and hastily collects her things -mostly clothes- from the floor, aware of Haymitch's eyes on her. She shrugs them on and walks over to a basket of food she had brought during the night: crunchy, red apples, a loaf of fluffy baker's bread and two brown hens' eggs. She had acquired these items with great difficulty the day before; only people with money eat like that every day. While Haymitch dresses, she hastily slices the bread and apples and cooks the eggs on an old fire burner. They bring their meal outside and sit on the tiny porch's steps, eating in silence, not wanting to ruin the satisfying tastes. Food, glorious, food, thinks Nemit. What it must be like to be rich and eat like royalty all the time! If she had money, she would definitely be fat.  She catches Haymitch's eye and he grins at her through a large mouthful of food.  She laughs, knowing that he is enjoying this meal just as much as her.