Social Casualty

Chapter 22

The next week passes on a blur, but yet incredibly slow. A week of doing absolutely nothing besides trying to contain the hate I feel towards absolutely everything around me. Sometimes even I think I am way I can hate so deeply, eventhough I'm not sure where my hate is directed to. Maybe it's really something I should work out on.

It's odd coming to school on a Saturday. Somehow, even odder than it was coming  here at night with Gale to 'vandalize' the school. The messages and graffitis Gale and I did on the walls are gone, replaced by a fresh coat of white paint, making the school look dull yet again. I wonder how many layers of paint they had to put there in order for the whole mural disappears. Although it makes me feel even worst knowing all the hard work Gale and I, as well as the rest of the SCL members, had was for nothing, I can't help but to chuckle a little thinking how much repainting the walls must have cost him.

I walk slowly through the hallways, thumping my feet loudly on the floor as I make my way to Haymitch's office, just because I can, and there aren't other people around to muffle the noise I'm making with their own noise. That makes me feel good, and hate a little more society for muffling the noise I make.

Haymitch's door is open, which is a sign for me to come in, and hurry, because he is already waiting. Just like predicted, Haymitch is sitting behind is desk, staring at his door, expecting me. Although he hasn't said anything yet, by his expression I can tell what he is thinking 'Just hurry up, it's a goddam Saturday afternoon and I'm here waisting time with you while I could be getting drunk.'

"Hey." I greet him, while taking a sit in front of his desk. 

"Good seeing you again. It's been awhile, isn't it?" Haymitch says with that ironic tone that is Haymitch's and only Haymitch's.

"Missed me, no? I'm sorry I abandoned you here, it must have been so tedious." I tell him with my own sarcastic tone.

He guffaws, taking a seep from a bottle of scotch I hadn't noticed yet. Apparently, he isn't going to wait until he's done with me to get drunk. "Are you joking, kid? It's been a bliss since you've been gone. Been sleeping like an angel without you here always getting on my nerves."

"Disapointing. I always though I was able to be a bother from afar. Apparently, I was wrong. Why did you call me here on saturday?"

"I just wanted to tell you something." Haymitch says "Organize your things."

There's a small break, as I wait for him to continue, but Haymitch says nothing else, he just looks at me, expectantly.

"That's it?" I ask "That's all you gotta tell me?"

"Yes, that is all." Haymitch answers, taking a sip from his bottle. "You're dismissed."

"You made me come to school on a damn saturday so that you could just tell me to organize my things? And now you're dismissing me? You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. All I'm saying is thgat you have to get your things in order. That's all. And you can go now." Haymitch repeats.

I stand up abruptly, upset that is all Haymitch had to say to me, upset that I can't understand what is happening right now, or in any moment. "No! I have nothing to organise! You do! I mean, look at your office, kit's you who has to tidy up all these boxes!"

Suddenley I see, Haymitch's office is empty, apart from the sturdy desk and the chairs. All those papers he usually has stacked on his desk are gone, as well as his degrees that he hung on the wall, and that small dry plant I usually watered for Haymitch when I arrived for my sessions.

"Are you leaving?" I ask him.

Haymitch looks sorrowfully at me, and then again at his bottle. "Snow fired me. Just came today to get my stuff."