Effie is annoying.

Anyone who has ever worked with her knows that and will tell you the same. That'll mainly just be me, the only mentor to have ever worked with her.

She nit-picks and she fusses - my tie is crooked, my shirt is creased, there's stain on my jacket, just to give you an idea. Effie is persistent which can make her annoying, like I've said.

Effie is dead, now. That's annoying, too.

XxX

I'll tell you about Effie but I don't know how much of it you can rely on. I feel like an asshole in this story because I can't remember much which makes me feel wretch. But I have to write it down before this too is gone like everything else.

I'm old. And it didn't help that I have a drinking problem. I was at a nursing home, at the borders of District 6. I could not remember exactly why I was there. The memory is a bit hazy but I think it was because I nearly killed Angel – the kids' little girl. I thought that was a long time ago but maybe they had not forgiven me for it.

Who in their right mind would allow a five year old to swim by the lake and then fall asleep while drinking only to be woken up by a terrified scream? That's right, no one except me. I saw Angel trashing in the water. My legs were like jelly as I stumbled forward drunkenly, pulling her out of the water, shaking and crying.

But that little girl forgave me. She did, sweet little girl, and I didn't deserve it.

I got sick. Not only am I old now, I'm also sick. Of course, the kids have enough on their plate without having to constantly check on me to make sure I'm still alive and haven't drunk myself to death. It was Hazelle who told me of the home and I soon found myself there.

Effie found me at the home. Who knows how she knew but she came one day, years after we've gone our separate ways in the new world.

I didn't want her there. Just another reminder of my past life. The last time I saw her we had a huge fight - just before I left the Capitol with Katniss or was it about my geese? I don't know but all I remember was that it was a long time ago.

"Hello, Haymitch," she spoke softly. I ignored her, not even turning to acknowledge her presence.

She stayed with me until the daylight burns out.

I didn't hear from her again after that. So much so that I passed that encounter off as a hallucination from my many medications.

But Effie came again that weekend. I was sitting by the bench overlooking a huge pond, throwing blades of grass I had pulled from the ground into the water.

With a "hello, Haymitch," she sat next to me. This time I turned to look at her. She smiled and I blinked, quickly looking away.

Effie's different. There were wrinkles on her face, the skin on her nimble fingers was papery and I could see her veins running through her pale skin. I supposed the same could be said for me – wrinkled and creased. We are not ageless. Time isn't anyone's friend.

She read out loud. Not to me necessarily but that's what Effie does. She reads everything out loud, from official Capitol papers, Games memo and her own schedule. I told you she was annoying, didn't I?

I found my bench occupied by the time I shuffled my way over one weekend, lugging my oxygen tank behind me. Breathing is such a chore lately - something about atrial fibrillation. She looked at me curiously and to the tank trailing behind me. To her credit, she kept quiet about it.

This went on for a while. For two years. Every weekend without fail she will sit by me, reading from her book. She burnt through five books within two years - a slow reader. But who would have thought Effie Trinket even read, right? I find it bothersome the fact that I don't know her as well as I thought I did.

She never talked to me, though. It was always, "hello, Haymitch" and when she left for the day, "see you next weekend." Lately, it was accompanied by a kiss on my cheeks, something I did not permit but she took the liberty of doing anyway. I'll say it again - that woman is annoying.

It was different that Saturday afternoon. There was no book in her hand. I frowned because she left off at the best part - Jocasta had hung herself and Oedipus had raved - and I wanted to know what happened to the King.

"I've stalled for the better part of two years," she began and I listened as I have been doing since the first day she came to me.

I watched the ducklings wadding in the pond after its mother and remembered my own attempt at rearing geese. The kids told me they're still there, the little girl love them too much.

"I find myself in a constant state of restlessness and you bring me peace."

I started, turning slightly in my seat to look at her quizzically. My bones ached from this sudden movement.

"You are still as delusional as ever," I spoke to her for the first time, my voice coarse and raspy. If I am vain, which I am not, I would have hated the way I sounded.

She shuffled closer and I could feel the warmth of her body through my clothes. Effie took my hand in hers, rubbing it between her hands, warming it up. I wasn't cold by any means but I shivered still.

"Haymitch," she said, "oh, Haymitch."

"What is it?" I asked. I did not like the way her voice cracked slightly. I wished for her to continue reading.

"I – You don't belong in this place, Haymitch. Why won't you take care of yourself and return back to Twelve. Katniss and Peeta –"

"They don't need to waste their life looking after an old man like me. They deserve some kind of happiness."

"And you? Don't you deserve the same?"

"Who's to say?" I meant for it to be a joke but it came out bitter. I cleared my throat, trying to dispel the heaviness that was settling in. "It's late. Shouldn't you go home by now?"

"Before I go there is something that you should know."

She seemed nervous all of a sudden, wringing her hands together in an agitated manner.

"Yes?"

"I care about you - you know that, don't you? I always have."

I closed my eyes and said nothing. Why now?

"I can't go without letting you know that. We've wasted… So many years between us and we've wasted it. I should have said it sooner but fear got the better of me and it's …" she took a deep breath. "I love you, you boorish man. Remember that, if you can't remember anything else."

My eyes flew open. Declarations of love were the last thing I expected. Of course I knew that she cares about me or she would have left me to die from alcohol poisoning a long time ago. But no, she fusses over me.

Love? What a foolish woman. Surely we are too old?

I was startled out of my inner thoughts when I felt her lips, soft and pliant against my own. Almost against my will, my eyes fluttered close again. "See you next weekend," she whispered.

Not only is Effie Trinket annoying, she is also a liar.

XxX

She died between this weekend and the next.

Breathless and clutching on to my chest as I hurried inside the home – I couldn't remember walking that fast – I ask the nurse where Effie was.

"Your wife isn't here yet?"

"My wife?" my eyebrows furrow but I choose not to correct her. "Where is she?"

"I'll handle him – thank you."

I turn towards the voice and saw Peeta. There are grey strands in his hair, I don't remember that. He looks older which is odd. He had only celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday when I came to the home.

"Haymitch, come on, we're taking you home."

"Home? But why?"

"Just for a little while, alright. There's someone… someplace you have to be. And if you want to come back here, I'll send you back."

"Fine, kid, but Effie will be here. We should wait for her."

Peeta shakes his head. "She's not, Haymitch. But where you're going, she'll be there."

XxX

I stare at the headstone.

Effie Trinket-Abernathy.

I'm an Abernathy. Why does she have my name?

"I'm sorry," Katniss came to stand by me. She is crying, putting her arms around me and squeezing it slightly.

I don't know if I'm supposed to feel sad when I can't remember who Effie was. Wasn't she the escort? The woman I worked with and then went into a whole lot of trouble to save from prison? What happened between then and now, and… dead?

"She's supposed to meet me, kid. What am I doing here?"

"Haymitch…" Katniss wipe away her tears. "She's not coming, Haymitch. You know that. You know why."

"No, no. She is supposed to read to me. She always reads to me. Take me back to the home. She's waiting for me," I made my demand but I don't think the kids are taking me seriously. Not with my voice being so feeble like that.

"Haymitch…"

"Why isn't there a funeral? Why wasn't I there? Is she afraid I might be drunk? The nurses wouldn't let me drink."

"She didn't want you there - didn't want you to see her when she's lying in her coffin. She made us promise."

"Am I married to her?" I ask finally. I have to know although deep down, I already knew the answer even if I can't remember it.

XxX

I don't know what to do with myself. I think back to those days long gone when I knew exactly what to do and where to be because Effie was there with her schedule, irritating me at every turn. Even those memories are fading fast.

I still have those two years to cling to. And I remember her last words to me.

I still hate her. Mostly, I'm angry at her. She's gone and she still annoys me. She never did finish the story of the King of Thebes and I hate unfinished endings.

He lost his wife and I lost mine. What will happen to men like us now?

Disclaimer: Jocasta & Oedipus is from the Theban Plays. Haymitch and Effie belongs to Collins.

I wrote half of this in the train on the way to work because dementia was something I read in my textbook the night before and therefore, this came to mind. I know it's sad, bit tragic and all but still, I hope you found it somewhat enjoyable. Also, I don't usually write in the first person POV but I thought I'd give a try.

Review!