The Hunger Games - Primrose Everdeen

Chapter nine

Today's the most boring day of all. Training. A different kind of training...

"Effie, please! My feet hurt and Cinna would never put me in heels this huge." I complain. Who would have thought that preparing for the interviews tomorrow would be almost as hard as training for the actual Games?

Effie scowls at me. "Prim, you're doing fine. And if you learn to walk in these than you can walk in anything! Try again." The excitment in her voice disgusts me, but I follow her demand. "Much, much better. You're really quite the natural." In return, I give her a half smile.

For hours, Effie has me running around and performing silly little tasks in theses feet-hurting, ankle-breaking, ugly as hell shoes. But of course in the Capitol these shoes are the highest in demand.

Right as I think I'm about to snap at her, Effie informs me that our time is up and that now I am to spend the rest of my time with no other than Haymitch Abernathy. Disgusting, revolting, drunken Haymitch.

When I get to Haymitch, to my suprise he is actually sober. "Hello."  I greeta casually.

"Yes, hello. Sit down, Prim." Orders Haymitch. I do as told. "So, what angle should we play you as for tomorrow?"

I give a puzzled exprestion. "Huh?" I ask caustiously.

"Shoud you act sweet, innocent, scared, proud?" Explains Haymitch.

It takes me a moment to completely understand what he means. Due to my fairly recent change of attitude and my low training score, how I act tomorrow is extremely important and affects me on multiple levels. "If it helps at all, I am determined to get home to my mother and older sister."

He takes a small while to think it through then nods his head. "Determined but innocent. A perfect role for a girl like you."

A girl like me? What's that supposed to mean? Is he just talking about my small size and youth or is he also referring to my behavior? That even if I was determined to an extreme poing, that I could never take a life? Instead of asking him all these questions, I just say, "So, how do I do that?"

Haymitch shakes his head in frustration. "Okay, I'll be you and you ask me a question about your mother and sister."

"Um, alright." I say. "How has your family helped you even though you cannot see them right now?"

"Well," Begins Haymitch in a squeaky, girly voice. "I want to get back to them so very badly. Maybe for them, I can win this." Says Haymitch, still using the silly voice. For a drunken man, he's not that terrible.

"Got it. Now ask me a question." I laugh cheerfully.

"You've come so far, how have you done it at only twelve?" Ask's Haymitch as if he truly does want to know. And maybe he asked this question because part of him really does want the answer to the question.

"It's not easy. Constant hard work. And  the reward? That doesn't come till' the very end of this." My voice cracks. "BUt a vision of home keeps me going. My sister hugging me once more. That's the only fuel I need to keep me going foward."

Solemly, Haymitch gives a nod of approval. "That was beautiful. Very sincere. Try to find a way to say those exact words during the interviews. But for now let's just keepracticing. First, though."He scribbles something on a peice of paper and he hands it to me. The words on it really are beautiful and sincere, yet there's soemthing else in them.