The Hunger Games One Shots

65th Hunger Games (pt1)

Haymitch and Effie

Effie closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Haymitch was making the loudest racket possible on the train. After listening to him smash plates together for an hour, she finally had enough.

She swaddled herself in her robe and exited her room. Angry was an understatement. She rushed to his room on the train and pounded on the door. "Haymitch Abernathy!" She exclaimed.

After a few loud thuds, a very drunk Haymitch appeared, a slight smirk present on his face. "Miss Effie Trinket. What a pleasure to see you at this wonderful hour." He greeted, leaning against the doorway for support.

"Haymitch, you need to be quiet. Our tributes are trying to get some sleep." She scolded, narrowing her blue eyes at him.

Haymitch scoffed, his smirk growing. "Please, those kids won't sleep a wink tonight."

Effie let out a gasp, placing her hand on her chest. "Not with you making all this noise!" She fired back.

He slightly chuckled, brushing his dark locks from his gray eyes. "Effie, I think you're the only one on this train bothered by my 'noise.'"

She turned up her nose and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sure our tributes want just as much peace and quiet as I do," she huffed. "Besides, we need to be presentable for tomorrow. We arrive at the station near 9 and we want to gain our sponsors early."

"Please, no one cares about the tributes from 12." Haymitch replied, shaking his head and slightly tightening his jaw. His gray eyes were a darker shade in the night. Effie had only been the escort for District 12 for about five years now, but she was quick to notice the difference between District 12 and one of the richer ones.

People here all looked nearly alike. They had the same set of features. Gray eyes and dark locks or blue eyes and blonde hair. A few times, there are excepts. They'll be a mix with blue eyes and dark hair, but they all still look like they could be related with the kid next to them. But in the Capital and richer Districts, no one looks alike. Not even close. You would see someone who is actually related and could never guess.

"Well, why don't we change that then. Make them into a District people want to see," she replied, her voice now softer. "We're no different from 1 or 2." She added.

Haymitch shook his head, a frown on his face. Effie was a little naive, but her heart was always in the right place. She wanted to raise a winner, a victor. She wanted people to care for a District that was less fortunate than the others. But that would be nearly impossible.

"We don't train our kids for slaughter like 1 and 2. We pray they never have to see the lights of the Capital." He answered, studying her face. It was clear of all makeup and actually looked very natural. He assumed that underneath her makeup was the most hideous face he could dream of. But she had certain features people would call pretty. Blue eyes and dimples. Button nose and no worry lines. Not that she's ever had to worry about anything besides being on time.

"I don't understand why you don't train them. I know it's against the rules of the Games, but everyone else does it. Why not get an advantage?" She asked, brushing her short blonde locks behind her ears.

"Because it feels wrong," Haymitch offered, shrugging his shoulder. "I mean, do you like the idea of training your kid to kill other ones?"

Effie was taken back, rapidly blinking her eyes. "Of course not."

"It doesn't feel right, does it?" He fired back, his tone shading into anger. "Feels wrong. Immoral. Like your child is now a weapon instead of a little kid."

Effie furrowed her eyebrows, confused with his answer. "But you know they could be reaped. Why not be prepared in case it happens?" She asked, cowering back.

"Because we'd rather have them forget it exists in their broken lives than to constantly think about!" He shouted. His breath smelt of alcohol and it nearly choked her. She closed her eyes as he towered over her. "Don't you get it? No one but you greedy Capital mutts like the Games."

She nodded her head, then quickly rushed away. She swaddled herself in her robe and crawled back under her covers. Was what he said right? Do they really just try to forget about the Games?

xxx

"It's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie cheered, walking to each door and knocking on them loudly. "Valerian! Jacob! Haymitch! Time to wake up!"

Valerian walked out almost immediately after Effie had walked down the hallway. She hadn't slept a wink. "Good morning." She quietly greeted as she sat down at the table.

Effie let out a small gasp, placing her hand over her chest. "Darling, you startled me! I had no idea you were already awake, dear."

Haymitch dragged himself out of bed and was stumbling into the dining room in time to hear their conversation. "She probably didn't go to bed." He slurred, plopping into his spot across from Valerian.

She shook her head, her blonde locks shimmering in the light. Jacob appeared a few minutes later, his dark curls tangled together. Effie gave him a curt hello, but he brushed it off. He wasn't going to speak to her.

"So, what do we need to know?" Valerian asked, her blue eyes darting back and forth between the adults sitting across from her. A small chuckle came out from Haymitch as he poured more alcohol into his coffee.

"What's so funny?" Jacob asked, his deep and rough voice echoing in the room. Just when he thought he was in the clear, he was reaped at 18 years old. Valerian, who was only 15, had been drawn, but both of her older sisters refused to volunteer.

"There's nothing you need to know," Haymitch answered. "Because there's nothing you can do to prepare."

"We're allowed to train before the Games, right?" Valerian asked, her blue eyes widening.

"Of course, Haymitch is just pulling your leg. He doesn't mean that." Effie assured, narrowing her eyes at the drunk.

"Yeah. What I meant to say was, good luck," he smirked. "Because you're going to need it."

Jacob quickly realized why Haymitch had been their last victor in the past decade. He was worthless to the next tributes, offering them no help whatsoever. He hardened his gray eyes at the drunk. He and Valerian didn't stand a chance at surviving these Games.

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