Hunger Games: The Second Quarter Quell - The Story of Haymitch Abernathy

Chapter 1: The Reaping

As if summoned by the distracted whirr of his brother's thoughts, Elden Abernathy emerged, weary-eyed, from the doorway, his expression one of irritable confusion.

'What are you doing?' he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep.

Haymitch let out a silent sigh, placing the food items in his hands onto the counter and approaching his thirteen-year-old brother with a reassuring hand to the shoulder.

'You should get some rest, Elden. We don't need to go to town today, besides the reaping, and that isn't until this afternoon,' he murmured, sure as not to wake his poor mother.

She hadn't been doing so well since the passing of his father, last year. 'The man was never fit for the mines,' she'd say, 'much too weak of the heart.' Although it wasn't his heart that had failed him, but his lungs. Haymitch knew his father had always been strong of heart.

Elden sighed, turning back towards the doorway connecting the kitchen to the bedroom, before hesitating suddenly.

'Haymitch,' he muttered again, 'don't worry about the double tributes thing, okay?'

Haymitch's thirteen-year-old brother had read his mind, and it made him feel a little more vulnerable.

'I wasn't. I'm not worried.'

It wasn't entirely a lie. He definitely had just been thinking about it, his mind running over the bitter memory like an ulcer under the tongue. But he wasn't entirely worried, so to speak. More... slightly concerned.

In theory, the doubled participants of this year's Hunger Games didn't increase, nor decrease anyone's chances. There were more Careers – tributes from District 1, 2, and 4 – to ratio the large number of other tributes. There was likely a larger arena, equipped with more dangers to accommodate more people. The odds of any individual selected remained the same. Which, however, as Haymitch allowed himself to admit, didn't calm him much, as the District 12 odds were and always had been horrid.

'Elden,' Haymitch murmured, feeling squat, now that his thirteen-year-old brother had almost reached his height, 'it'll be alright, y'know. You're thirteen; your name's only in twice. And we're not in any extra times, this year.'

The more impoverished residents of District 12, including Haymitch and Elden and their mother, inhabited a dull, dust-covered area called the Seam, and sometimes traded a few more slips of their name in the reaping for tesserae - basically extra rations. And although this was the first year Haymitch had worked to feed the family without his father, they were doing okay, compared to some of their closest neighbours.

'Now go back to sleep, and I'll cut you the biggest piece of meat, alright?' Haymitch told his brother, giving him a pat on the shoulder and returning his previous place behind the kitchen counter.

Elden nodded, in somewhat better spirits, making for his bed with a yawn.

Kid's good at hiding his worry, Haymitch thought, his mind now focused on the knife in his hand as he sliced is cleanly and quickly through the rabbit, making sure to keep his promise by leaving the last piece just a little larger, if he even is worried.

He then lifted the chopping board to scrape the meat slices into the bucket on the ground besides him, before placing it back down on the counter and moving on to the berries, which were sourced from the forest, making them generously large, due to their adaption to the wild.

Haymitch had no idea who in District 12 was brave enough to venture down there, into the trees fenced off from the edge of town, let alone to sell their findings at the Hob. It occurred to him that he'd have most likely kept them for himself, should he have ever been so lucky. He took a moment to appreciate this unknown donor for a sacrifice he'd never have been able to make.