Chapter Text
I sit in a field next to my girl, Lenore Dove. We have just reunited after she got out of jail and I survived the second Quarter Quell. Oh, how I missed her during the games, I think as I feed her a blood-red gumdrop from the bag I bought for her before the Reaping. We continue talking, and I feed her a second. Another blood-red one. In a panic, I look at the bag I hold. All of them are the same blood-red color.
My subconscious remembers President Snow and his warning to me before the games—that my death will ensure my loved ones' safety. I desperately tell her to spit them out. She spits one of them out, and I tell her to hurry up and spit out the other one. She can't, though. I try to help her vomit them up, but nothing comes up. I hold her in my arms as she passes, reminding me to stop the sun from rising.
The doorbell rings and I jump out of bed, knife in hand, ready to fight the assailants at my door. My head splits open in pain as I feel the effects of my hangover hitting me as I'm standing by the side of my bed, the empty bottle of nepenthe on the bedside table. I remember what day it is, July fourth. The day of the Reaping for the 51st Hunger Games. My first time mentoring. My 17th birthday. Why did I have to drink last night? I say a quick apology to Lenore Dove for drinking last night, and tell her that today is the day I start working on my promise to her to stop the sun from rising as I throw on something nice to wear.
I open the door to find Effie waiting for me. Just like how this is my first year as a mentor, this is her first year being the escort. Drusilla was demoted after fighting with Maysilee on the train last year. I'm not sure how much further down you can be demoted than escort for District 12, but she's somewhere further down the line of succession now.
“Ah, Haymitch, there you are! You're going to be late for both of our exciting first days! And happy birthday, by the way!” She says as she immediately starts walking to the Justice building, assuming I’ll follow behind her. I don't hold it against her that she's working for the Capitol and is so happy about it—not completely, anyway. It's how she grew up, being taught by the Capitol propaganda that the Hunger Games are the only way to keep the peace between them and us. I managed to break a bit through that propaganda after the Victory Tour whenever she came to visit me in the Victors’ Village—during the very little amount of time I was sober, that is—and while I think I broke through enough to where she doesn't think the population of the Districts are animals, she still believes that the Hunger Games are necessary for a peaceful Panem. Who knows how long it'll take for me to manage to convince her that the games need to be stopped outright!
After a short walk, we arrive at the Justice building. A small crowd has already gathered in front of the stage. A crowd of kids like me, who arrived to the Reaping early last year instead of helping Ma by pumping the water from the well. I have half a mind to tell them all to go back home, make sure all of their chores are done, just in case the unthinkable happens. But I don't. I made the mistake of angering President Snow before and during the games last year, and while he didn't kill me, he sent a clear message that I shouldn't attempt to rebel or speak out in any way against the games again.
Effie takes me backstage and I sit down on a couch. I go through my plan for the next few years again. Step one: either mentor or make friends with the victor of this year, make sure said victor is not a Career. Step two A: if the victor this year is from District 12, meet them in the unsurveilled floor of the Justice building. Step two B: if the victor this year is not from District 12 but is not a Career, find a safe and unwatched way to communicate with them, possibly meeting with them very deep in the woods. Step two C: if the victor this year is a Career, wait until next year. Step three: start building an alliance of non-career victors from both previous and future games. Step four: once an army is built up in a couple years, meet with Plutarch again to discuss the next part of the plan.
Eventually, I hear Effie’s voice on the speakers and know it's time for the Reaping.
“Welcome, District 12, to the 51st annual Hunger Games! Everyone give a big round of applause to last year’s victor and your mentor, Haymitch Abernathy!” With that introduction, I walk onto the stage, take my spot on the side, and hear bellowing applause and cheers, despite the fact that nobody in the crowd is applauding and cheering. I smile nonetheless, waving to the cameras, not wanting to evoke Snow’s wrath. Effie walks up to the bowl filled with the girl’s names. “As always, ladies first.” She says before fishing her hand through the full bowl. She plucks a name from the bowl and reads, “Dew Solidsmith.” The screen that we can see zooms in on a section further back in the girls pen. The girl it zooms in on looks to be around 17 and quite strong, and confidently walks out of the crowd and toward the stage. Once she's in the center of the stage, Effie walks past her to go to the boys bowl. “And our male tribute this year will be Garget Dawnroot.” The camera turns to the male pen, this time right to the back, to a boy around 18 and also quite strong. Just like Dew, he separates himself from the crowd and confidently walks to the stage. He stands beside Dew and shakes her hand as Effie says, “Congratulations to our tributes of this year, and may the odds be ever in your favor!”
With that, the broadcast ends, and a sigh simultaneously escapes almost everyone’s mouths. I move off the stage, not wanting to be there when Dew and Garget’s families rush the stage. I feel bad for them and their families, knowing at least one of them won't be seeing their child alive again. Trying to not remember my own Reaping, I head to the train early.