Chapter ten

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EFFIE POV

Silence surrounds me, suffocating and heavy, when I should be blanketed by sleep. My eyes remain closed and I remain cacooned in blankets but the bed feels empty and my mind won't turn off. Haymitch is in his own room tonight, I told him I needed space and he granted me that much but now I regret my decision. Maybe I would be able to tumble into a dream land safe in his arms? I want to pad over the thick carpet between our rooms and crawl in beside him, let him smile sleepily as he wraps his arms around me and whisper sweet nothing's into my ear until I fall asleep. I won't though; we both knew the moment we went into separate rooms that would be where we stayed. I lean up on my elbows and look at the clock, the numbers taunted me obnoxiously; 1:23 in the morning.

I sit up suddenly, needing to move or escape from this suffocating room with its soundproof windows and infinite silence. I wish more than anything else to roam the streets but unfortunately that's not an option, and sit back down on the messy bedcovers with a sigh. None of the windows open, there's no way of breathing a breath of fresh air unless I go- the roof. I can go to the roof. I'm desperately thirsty but I don't want water or tea or alcohol, I want to have something I've never has before so my fist is amalgamated with my last and it doesn't hurt so much knowing I'll never do it again. I scroll through the possibilities, recognising all the names and knowing exactly what they taste like, recalling the last time I had them. My eyes rest on a name I've never seen before, a simple singular word, monster. Energy drink is the only thing given in the description so I order 6 cans and send them to the roof. In a fit of defiance I also order a box of cigarettes, a frequent of the rich and famous and always so far above my means that none of me or my friends ever even considered smoking. I pick up a hoodie and throw it on over my tank top, the bottom if my shorts just peeping out the bottom and pad barefooted out of the room and onto the roof.

The combination of cool wind and bright bustling sound calms me, my Capitol grown senses welcoming the noise with glee. I can see the cans of drink sitting beside a small box and a lighter sat on a napkin that was fluttering in the wind. I gravitate towards the table and pair of deck chairs, pulling the thin hoodie around my shoulders, regretting not throwing on a thicker jumper or a pair of jeans to ward off the cold. My fingers shake slightly from cold as I pop the can open with a fizz and tip some of the carbonated liquid into my mouth. It's extremely sweet an acidic, the bubbles burn going down my throat and make me shudder, there was definitely a reason I never tried this before but I glug back more of the liquid, letting it soothe my raging thirst. Placing it back on the table I pick up the box and open it, pulling out a long thin cylinder and placing the tan brown end into my mouth. I click the lighter and hold it to the end of the cylinder and do as I have seen the ridiculously rich do on tv more times then I can count, as I draw the smoke down my throat it makes the burning of the monster a long distant memory as it blisters down into my lungs. My immediate reaction is to cough and cough until all the acrid smoke is ejected but I force myself to blow it out my mouth elegantly and I am rewarded by a pleasant rush to my head. Just as I am placing the cigarette in my mouth for a second time the door clicks open and I whirl around, not expecting to see haymich walking towards me clutching a bottle of what I assume is whiskey. He stops short on seeing me.

"You should be in bed you know princess" he teases lightly, flopping down into the chair next to me, taking a long drink from his bottle.

"So should you" I reply without missing a beat.

He plucks the cigarette from my hand easily and I reach for another, he's watching me closely, obviously not knowing what to do so I light it and take a long drag, seeing him copy me and also looking like he wants to choke.

"What is this?" He asks looking deceived. It's not my fault if he thought it would be nice.

"A cigarette" he takes another drag as I reply

"Is it bad for you?"

"Probably" I reply, not quite sure of the medical impact of smoking if there even is one

"Addictive?"

"Very"

He smiles and takes another drag, swigging more from his whiskey bottle. My hand is on the arm of my chair and he reaches over to intertwine his fingers with mine. We sit in silence for a long time, looking over the bright lights of the city, hearing the party rage far below us in the streets. We both know the celebrations will last until morning and all these people will wait in the street until I'm dead. He drinks whiskey, I drink monster and we both smoke cigarettes from the table at the side of me until the whole packet is gone and all that is left of my drinks are empty cans strewn across the table. He stopped drinking about an hour ago at my estimation.

"I'm sorry" he says suddenly. I try to cut him off but he carries on.

"I'm sorry I always assumed you had it easy because you lived here and not in a district, there are different pressures I didn't even know existed that you had to put up with; and your mother sounds down right abusive." This time I succeed in cutting him off

"Haymitch" I chide him but he just shrugs "rude but true" he replies before I even managed to get the sentence out.

"I'm sorry about the way we've had to sell what we have to try and get sponsors like its cheap and tacky and fake and I'm sorry that I couldn't save you from all of this. But most of all, more than anything else, I love you and you have never been more beautiful then in this moment right now" my throat chokes up with tears and they start to spurt down my face. My hair is loose and mused from my tossing and turning, make up banished for the night, pyjama shorts, a tank top and a hoodie is all I wear. I didn't even put on shoes. I'm going to miss him so much. The grief and longing crushes my chest and it hurts so much I almost can't breathe and I'm surprised my heart is still beating. My hands come to his face, my fore head meeting his, our tears mingling. The rushed I love you in the lift is forgotten. This is perfect. Our desperate, romantic, perfect I love you. His lips meet mine easily, already so close. He pulls away suddenly, trying to distance himself from me, obviously not wanting one thing to lead to another in the gentlemanly way he does but he's not getting away with it this time. I pull him forceably closer to me, crushing my lips to his. "Please" is the only thing I whisper before he picks me up and carries me back down to my room, his smouldering eyes boring into mine the whole way.

I begin to come back into wakefulness slowly, my body naturally responding to the light spilling through the window. I laze dreamily, my body pleasantly sore and stretched, I would happily stay like this all day. Every thing crashes onto me all at one and I stiffen. Haymitch must have sensed my movement because he too wakes up and we lay face to face, staring at each other with wide eyes, knowing what is coming. D-Day, ground zero, call it what you like. It all means the same thing. It all means I'm going to the arena today. I press a soft kiss to his lips, feeling them respond instantly, we cling to each other desperately.

"I love you" he repeats, his eyes drinking in my face, like he never wants to forget what I look like. With regret I sit up and push the quilt back, swinging my legs down onto the ground and standing. I drift to the dresser feelings his eyes follow my naked body and pull on fresh pants and bra. There is a soft knock on the door and I know it's my stylist beckoning me out to be dressed in the only set of clothes I'll have for the next two or so weeks. I glance back at Haymitch desperately but he has this strong sturdy look in his eyes, the kind if look that says 'they won't see that they've broken me' and I adopt what I hope is a similar steely look before I leave the room.

My stylist is surgically altered to look like a cat and even had her skin died in a tabby pattern. It's incredibly creepy and unsettling I must say but she's looking at me like I'm the odd one for being completely unaltered under the wigs and clothes. I pull on the tightly fitting, dark green cotton trousers and slide the wide brown belt around my hips. The black cotton t-shirt has some hidden thickness I'm sure I'll be thankful for and it's not that tightly fitted, fitting snugly around my bust and hips but travelling almost straight down between them baggily. To complete the look I have a flexible jacket that I guess reflects body heat if required and a pair of sturdy, dark brown walking boots that lace onto my feet and ankles tightly. I ignore her offer to do my hair for me and plait it back quickly. Instead of one twisting Dutch plait like Katniss I opt for two French ones that snake straight over my head and fall down my back. I need all the help I can eat with this curly hair.

"Oh yeah, you're sister told me to give this to you" she says and holds out the small mockingjay pin that became Katniss's symbol in the games. I gasp lightly and pluck it from her paw like hand reverently, absentmindedly correcting her on the fact that Katniss is not my sister and pin it securely to my jacket. I will do her proud and wear this without fear of persecution or safety for my loved ones. They won't get me back but if I do my job and live up to my 11 then they'll get Annabella back and hopefully that will be enough for them.

I am transferred to a small back room where I will rise trough an arena like pod onto the hover craft and be transferred to the arena. I'm suddenly glad me and Haymitch milked the romance thing because there he stands ready to wave me off, there's a camera there which irritates me but he's here, and he's all strong and sturdy and safe and honestly it couldn't be more perfect. I fall into his arms and they encircle me easily. As much as I wished I could I can't stay in his arms forever I can't and he knows this because with one final, crushing squeeze and a kiss pressed roughly to my lips I'm being pulled away quickly. I stumble backwards from him quickly with the rough jerk on my shoulder to push me into the tube. I am pushed in so violently that I bang against the hard clear plastic at the back and career back forewords into the front of the tube which is already sealed. Haymitch was obviously not happy about it because he starts shouting at them, I can't make out what he's saying but they start to push him away violently, I scream and bang on the tube for them to let him go but they show no indication of hearing me as I am lifted out of the room. When I emerge someone grabs me equally as roughly and pushes me down into one of the seats. I'm the last one here and nobody looks as panicked as I must from the display I've just seen and I see tax's composed features sneer at me. Everything else passes in a blur as the same crushing longing settles heavily on my chest, restricting my breathing. I register a sharp stab of pain as they inject my tracker deep into my arm and a lurch in my stomach as we take of but nothing more. All I can see is Haymitch being wrestled through the door while I stand there trapped and helpless to do anything. The scene replays over an over in my mind as I am bustled down a corridor into a room where the cat woman waits for me again, I'm already dressed and ready so she profs a bottle of water at me and motions for me to sit

"So what's the deal with you and the mentor? You two for real or faking for sponsors?" She queries unkindly, I'd forgotten just how much I hate some aspects of Capitol life so I ignore her and gulp down the water, not knowing how easy it's going to be to find in the arena. All too soon she's pushing me back into another tube and my chest constricts but all I can think is that I wish that everyone would stop pushing me places and ask me to walk there of my own bloody accord. As the tube raises me all I can do is pray, even though I dot believe in god, that I will know the terrain well enough to stay alive out there but when I finally emerge I know exactly where I am. I've spent enough time here, in both my nightmares and walking hours to know my way around.

Of course its here, of course, where else could it possibly be? I'm in district 12. And it's reaping day.

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