Rosemary Acker was pronounced victor of the 55th annual Hunger Games, however she didn't feel like a victor. The trauma and horrors of the games continues to haunt her for many years to come. Watching her friends die one by one, under the hands of P...
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The atmosphere in the room shifted as Haymitch's gravelly voice filled the air, accompanied by the subtle clinking of a bottle against a glass. "I want you guys to forget everything you think you know about the games. Last year was child's play. This year, you're dealing with all experienced killers," he declared, pouring himself a drink with the nonchalant ease of someone who had seen too much.
Katniss sat at the table, her food untouched, her eyes distant yet attentive. Peeta sought to make sense of the grim reality they were facing. "What does that mean for us?" he inquired, a note of concern in his voice.
"That means you've got to have some allies," Haymitch replied, the gravity of his words lingering in the air.
Peeta, eager to contribute, began to voice his thoughts, only to be abruptly interrupted by Haymitch raising a finger, his expression stern. "You're not the problem," he pointed at Katniss. She shook her head, her gaze unwavering.
"No," she said, a hint of defiance in her voice. Haymitch, recognizing her stubborn determination, took a seat, ready to dispense advice drawn from the scars of his own survival.
"Look, you're starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years," Haymitch explained, his eyes fixed on Katniss and Peeta, who absorbed his words with a mixture of concern and understanding.
"It just puts us higher on their kill list," Katniss stated, her sharp insight cutting through the tension.
"Do it your own way, but I know these people. You go it alone, their first move is going to be to hunt you down—both of you," Haymitch warned, his words laden with the bitter truth of the Hunger Games.
"Katniss, come on," Peeta urged, his voice a plea for cooperation in the face of imminent danger.
"How could any of us even trust each other?" Katniss questioned, her skepticism revealing the harsh reality of their predicament.
"It's not about trust, it's about staying alive," Haymitch asserted, the weight of his experience resonating in his words. The room fell into a momentary silence as the tributes grappled with the gravity of their situation. In the midst of the looming Games, alliances formed and dissolved like fleeting shadows, and the fragile bonds they forged could mean the difference between life and death in the arena.
♕
The room was dimly lit, the glow of the screen casting flickering shadows on the walls. Rosemary sat, her eyes fixed on the reaping of every district, a morbid curiosity driving her to see who the tributes would be, to gauge the competition she would face in the looming Hunger Games. She knew Haymitch wouldn't be among the tributes, but she couldn't help but watch, a pang of longing echoing in her chest. She missed him terribly, and in the depths of her heart, she yearned for the chance to speak with him one last time, even if it meant saying goodbye.
