"All right. There's only five of us left. May as well say goodbye now, anyway," Maysilee said. "I don't want it to come down to you and me."

"Okay," Haymitch agreed. That's all. He doesn't offer to shake her hand or even look at her. And she walks away.

Maysilee glances over her shoulder. She felt a pang in her chest. He didn't even acknowledge her. Did he even care? There was no goodbye. It was just like that.

'I was foolish,' She thought to herself, kicking a pebble out of her way. Maysilee had thought that possibly, that what they had could've been something. 'Something torn in half.' She thought bitterly. Maysilee was right, it was foolish. Foolish to think that it could've been something, when in the end one of them would end up dead. 'It's better this way...'

It tore Maysilee's heart, because she knew that it was unlikely that she'd see him again. Oh, how wrong she was.

There was a rustling in the bushes to her right. Immeadiately, Maysilee took her blowgun out, and directed it at the bush. "Show yourself!" She demanded.

The rustling grew louder. Something was wrong with this picture. 'Why would a tribute make such a ruckus?' She thought. Just to be safe, Maysilee shot in the direction of the noise. Then, her instinct told her, "Run."

A flock of candy pink birds with long thin beaks dart out from the bush. A rush of speed coursed through Maysilee's body, and she took off, running like the wind.

Unfortunately, she is no match for the birds that the Gamemakers produce, and they are at her tail within seconds. Two jump on her from behind. Maysilee yelps, and rolls over.

More of the birds hop onto her, and she screams. Their talons are sharp; she feels it cutting into her legs through the fabric of her jumpsuit as more and more birds hop onto her, and pierce her body.

Soon, Maysilee hears someone trudging through the trees.

"HAYMI–" Maysilee feels a sharp pain in her neck, and blood splatters everywhere. Her eyes widen, and she tries to scream again, but all that comes out is a choked coughing sound.

The birds begin to disperse, satisfied with the job that they've done.

Haymitch is soon at Maysilee's side, his eyes filled with concern. He yanks hold of her hand. "No, Maysilee, please, you can't go," He pleads, in a tone very unfamiliar to her.

Tears are threatening to run down his face, but he holds them in, refusing to look weak.

Maysilee opens her mouth, and blood splatters out.

"Don't force yourself to talk," Haymitch says, as she gasps for air.

Maysilee opens her mouth again, and a series of choking, coughing, and gasping comes from it, with a whole new shower of blood. But through it all, Haymitch was able to understand one thing: WIN.

He nods fiercely, the tears prickling at his eyes.

Maysilee twitches, and trembling, she takes her free hand, and slowly lifts three fingers to her mouth, then holds her blood-covered fingers out to him.

Then Maysilee's eyelids droop halfway closed, and she gets a distant look. Her hand flops back to the ground beside her. The canon sounds. Maysilee Donner is dead.

Haymitch closes her eyes. "Sweet dreams, Maysilee," He whispers softly, bowing his head. He rubs away the tears at his eyes with his hands covered in Maysilee's blood. He does not care. There is only one thing that matters to him now.

He must win.


Haymitch drags himself up the hill, and waits for the girl from District 1 to catch up. It's not long before she does. She gives him a cold glare.

"Hey, sweetheart, what are you waiting for?" Haymitch says, giving a sly grin.

The girl's ax comes hurtling at him, and it misses by an inch, throwing itself off of the cliff.

They stare at each other, with her one eye socket filled with blood, and a look of hatred in her eye. Then, without warning, the ax comes back, and slices through her head. There is a painful crunching sound, indicating the damage of her skull.

As she tumbles to the ground, the canon sounds, and trumpets blow to announce that he is the champion.

A smug smile appears on Haymitch's face. 'Wait for me, Maysilee,' He thinks, before the world around him darkens.


"He's coming to, sir,"

Haymitch's eyes open. 'I am not dead.' He thinks. 'Of course I'm not, the Capitol would do anything to keep me alive. I am the victor.'

He is disappointed. He thought he would die, and get to see Maysilee again.

Oh, the regret of not even saying goodbye. 'At least I kept your promise,' He thinks.

Haymitch spends a whole bunch of bitter years reflecting that day, only escaping the deep wound through his drinking.

So when he meets Katniss and Peeta, he decides to take the role of a matchmaker, and watches them slowly fall in love. 'A whole different story than mine. At least they didn't end up like me.'