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

Chapter 2: The Final Goodbyes

Haymitch wondered what made this building so special that it abode in the centre of the district, so clean, compared the thin layer of coal dust which coated its surroundings. 

The four tributes continued, awestruck, through the polished corridors of the Justice Building, before finally being directed by the peeved Peacekeepers to four separate chambers, all as fancy, if not fancier, than the foyer outside. 

Haymitch found himself treading lightly on thick, purple carpet, admiring the chamber before him, which contained several plush lounges and a lavish, gold-detailed tea-table. 

The door clicked shut and remained so behind Haymitch for a few minutes, so he took the opportunity to sit in a comfort he'd never felt before, his arms brushing the soft armrests of the closest couch. But before he could get cosy, the door swung open, and both Elden and his mother burst in. 

A lump immediately sprung up in his throat as his mother wrapped him in a hug, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to remain calm. He had not been prepared for this, but he knew why he was here now: the final hour. It was the time designated for tributes to say their goodbyes to loved ones, and it felt like a punch in the gut. 

As Haymitch's mother finally pulled away, he engulfed his younger brother in what might possibly be the last embrace they ever shared. Elden may be reaching his height nowadays, but Haymitch still overpowered him, built from pure muscle. 

The highest compliment he'd ever received was from an old lady whom he'd served at the markets, who'd told him, 'Gosh, elsewhere, I could've sworn you were a Career. You're a built young boy, you know.' 

The title of 'Career' was the name given to the tributes from Districts 1 and 2, as they were wealthier by trade, and trained in elite programs until they turned eighteen, when they would finally volunteer as tribute at the reaping. 

This advantage had resulted in a vast outnumbering of Career victors to the rest of the districts, which was the other thing that currently worried Haymitch. Suppose he even made it to final eight. Was he match enough for the eight strongest tributes?

'I'm scared, Haymitch,' Elden whispered against his shoulder, gripping his brother tighter. 

The change of his attitude from this morning to now made the whole thing seem just a little more daunting. And even more that now, Haymitch wasn't sure he'd be able to comfort him. District 12 was the underdog district. No one won from District 12. They were there purely for entertainment. And even if he tried to defy that stereotype, he was sure he'd either be killed, or laughed at. Most likely both. 

The truth was, Haymitch wasn't entirely confident he could make it out of the Games alive. But how was he to tell his thirteen-year-old brother that?

'Don't be. I'll be home in no time,' Haymitch forced through gritted teeth, hiding his pain over his brother's shoulder as they embraced.

'Do you really think you can win?' Elden asked, and the genuineness of his disbelief calmed Haymitch, just a little. 

Elden didn't think he could win, anyway. So would he be so hurt when his brother really didn't come home?

Haymitch placed a reassuring hand on Elden's shoulder, though he wasn't entirely sure whether he was comforting his brother, or himself.

'I'll try as best I can,' he murmured, finally letting go. 

Haymitch's mother, who'd spent this sentimental moment regathering herself, finally spoke.

'How will we afford food, Haymitch? Without your job?' she said softly, dabbing at her cheeks with the fraying edge of the faded shawl around her neck.