The Second Quarter Quell

Haymitch Abernathy is an eighteen year old tribute from District 12 during the 2nd Quarter Quell of the Hunger Games. Alongside him are three other tributes, one of them posing more of a threat than an other enemy he might face in the arena. Who is this tribute? Find out now! (((Kree Stark belongs to me. Please do not steal her.)))

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9. Memories

Haymitch groaned and stretched as he sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Kree lay sound asleep beside him, one hand clutching tightly to her bat. Suddenly, she moaned and readjusted herself. Haymitch froze; her neck was completely exposed. If he wanted to, he could slice it right open. It would be quick and painless, and she wouldn't even know. He wasn't sure how or when, but his knife was in his hand and hovering over her pale skin.

May was right. There could only be one victor. Sooner or later, they'd have to kill one another. As the blade of the knife inched closer and closer to her skin, Haymitch caught himself wondering.

Can I really do this?

He stopped, the blade barely touching the skin on her jaw. Suddenly, images of Garreth laying bloody and screaming beside him flashed across his vision. Yanking his arm back, he tossed the knife away and covered his ears in attempts to rid himself of the echoing screams which had begun to fill his head. It wasn't just Garreth's screams, either. He heard the screams of the other tributes as they lay dying. He found himself rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"Haymitch?"

The blonde jumped and screamed when Kree laid a gentle hand on his arm. She gave a start, her eyes widening with confusion and fear.

"Haymitch? Are you all right?"

Not speaking, he grabbed her and held her close to him. She wiggled a little, but then fell silent. Her arms slowly wrapped around him, comforting his racing heart and mind. They stayed there for what seemed like an eternity before he pulled away and got to his feet.

He could have killed her...but he didn't.

No, he thought, I won't kill her.

 

The day passed by unbearably slow with no canons. There were still five tributes. As the sun began to set in the distance, Kree built a small fire. Haymitch squeezed fruit juice into the purifier for their dinner. All in all, it was peaceful and quiet.

"Haymitch! Kree! Help me!"

The two tributes leaped to their feet, each grabbing a weapon. The screaming came from beyond the tree line.

"Kree! Help me!"

Her eyes widened with fear and horror, "May!"

Not bothering to wait for Haymitch, the raven haired girl took off towards the trees. He followed, trying to keep up. Maysilee's screams continued, chilling them both to the bone. The blonde whimpered as he ran, trying to ignore the flashes of Garreth's death that raced through his mind.

"Haymitch," oh god, she sounded so terrified, "Haymitch! Kree!"

"May," he screamed back, shoving branches out of his way while keeping an eye on Kree in front of him, "May!"

Suddenly, Maysilee gave a bloodcurdling scream...or, at least, she started to. Kree and Haymitch burst out of the trees into a vast, grassy clearing. They watched as a flock of the neon pink birds took to the air in fright, leaving a gurgling blonde laying on the ground.

"May!"

Kree slid onto her knees as she neared her best friend. May glanced up at her with fading eyes, holding tightly onto her bloody throat. Haymitch rushed to their sides, breathing heavily. Dropping her bat, Kree tried her best to close the wound. She shuddered when she felt her friend's jugular touch her skin. Haymitch fell backwards onto his butt; he knew this was hopeless. The birds had sliced her throat, nearly decapitating her. She wouldn't last long.

"Haymitch," Kree wept, "Haymitch help me! Don't just sit there staring! She's dying!"

He wanted to help. He really did. Maysilee continued to gurgle as she released her throat. With each of her hands, she grabbed one of theirs.

"No," Kree didn't try to hide the tears that drenched her face, "don't you let go, May! Don't you let go!"

The blonde smiled up at Kree and Haymitch, her breathing slowing to a stop.

A canon fired in the distance.

 

This time, the Capital didn't give them time to bury Maysilee. Peacekeepers drove them off and took her body away. Haymitch then watched as his only friend broke down. Screaming, she ran to the nearest stream and washed all the blood off her skin and clothes. She then dragged Haymitch in and washed him off as well. He didn't fuss. She whimpered and cried the entire process, letting loose a wild wail of agony from time to time. Haymitch watched with despair.

The Capital had broken Kree. His beautiful, wild Kree was now a tamed pawn to use in the Games. Rage caused his blood to boil. They had killed Garreth, then they killed Maysilee, and now they had killed Kree's spirit.

"Hell no," he said out loud, startling her, "Kree! You're letting them win. We've got to fight. For Garreth and for Maysilee."

"She was right," she answered, as though in a trance, "we won't survive."

"Kree! Listen to me! We have got to survive! We will survive!"

"There can only be one victor."

Haymitch grabbed her face with his hands, feeling himself tremble, "We changed the rules when Garreth died. We can change the rules about the victor!"

A flicker of her old fire sparked through her eyes, then died, "They won't allow it. Just like they wouldn't allow us to bury May."

"What do you think May and Garreth would want?"

Kree's eyes closed, and her breathing became normal. When she opened them again, the fire was there and back with a vengeance.

"They'd want us to fight until our last breath!"

"So what the hell are we going to do?"

"We're going to hunt down that Shimmer bitch and that District 9 Tribute, and we'll kill them."

"There you are, Kree," he smirked, giving her a playful little shove, "where were you? I was stuck with this whiny little bitch all afternoon! God, I was about two seconds away from killing her!"

Kree stared at him in anger, "That's not funny."

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