Five Seconds

It was not easy boarding that train. She had an hour to ready herself but up til the last second, she couldn't seem to bring her entire body and soul inside her cart.

She waited. She had waited since early that morning to see if she would be stopped from leaving. She wanted to be stopped. But she never was.

She waited while packing her clothes. While she threw in two bottles of freshly peeled peanuts into her baggage, stowing it under several wool jackets so it would not easily break. Shards of broken glasses were difficult to repair. No, scratch that. They were impossible to repair.

Three minutes til boarding time. She had her head bowed, her eyes looking intently at her shoes. They were her most battered shoes. If they could just die, she would have buried them eight months ago. They needed new heels again. Maybe it was time to consider replacing them. But she loved those red shoes. They were from her aunt who had long since died.

God, she was rambling internally. Her thoughts were a jumbled set of puzzle pieces that never fit together. Her body a bundle of nerves that seemed to break little by little. She was tired of waiting and her sighs were getting deeper by the second.

Then she heard the announcement that the train would be leaving in a few seconds. She stood glumly from her seat by the entrance and walked toward the train with her head bowed. It was time.

At exactly sixty seconds later, the train was off to its destination. She was never coming back.

And at exactly five seconds after, he arrived. With a bunch of flowers (lilies, her favorite), a harassed expression on his face, and a ton of regret in his heart when he saw the train moving fast away from him.

She was never coming back. And he was exactly five seconds late.


Photo by: James Muspratt

The Deal

It was one of the rare nights I was barely drinking. So you could just imagine my shock when I got the news full blast. Actually, it was just by mistake that I opened the television. They were done with choosing the dresses for the doomed wedding. Then Flickerman was doing the announcement for this year's Quell.

Damn place won't ever leave me alone, will it?

Before I was even able to shut the stupid announcement off, he was already knocking at my door. I knew he would come first. He always did.

"Oh good, you're not yet under," he said.

"Let's just hear your deal, boy" I grudgingly separated my hands from the bottle, eager to end what I knew would be a grueling conversation.

"You owe me, remember?"

"Owe you what?"

"You chose her"

"You already did even before the Games. I could've chosen you but you were plainly giving your odds away with all your Lover Boy ploys."

"I wouldn't do it any other way. But you did owe me, with all your lies that nearly killed me. Now it's payback time."

He's got point, you know. The kid knew how to drive his reasons. "So what do you want?" I asked.

"Definitely she's going back in. I want in. And just like last time, you would choose her." He was not asking for it. He was demanding in such a way that I knew there were no other options.

"Deal."

"Better shape up. We cannot pretend this is just another one of their Games. We both know what's happening. She's in more danger than ever and going back to the arena is just like walking into her funeral." Now, there was a hint of fear in his voice. This boy never acted, I'd always known that.

"Think I don't know that?"

"So get her out of there alive. Promise you'll really try, Haymitch."

"Swear it."

Just like that, he turned his back on me and turned the knob to my front door.

"You know I get this feeling she'll ask the same thing. In fact, she might be on her way." I told him.

He froze. Then a shrug. "I hope she does. Just so I know she cares, too. But somehow, I doubt that."

I never thought I'd see someone break into pieces as much as that boy had that time.



(I have always wondered how Peeta asked for this. And since I couldn't yet fathom his own emotions, I wrote this in Haymitch's POV. He's really deep, you know. He could do it.)