Chapter 24

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A few days had gone by, but the snow was starting to melt. The wedding of Katniss and Peeta had been postponed for a while. It was unclear when it would take place, but there were bigger issues to worry about. Now that the snow was melting, it meant the next season would arrive soon. 

They were approaching the next Hunger Games. This year would be the 75th year, a Quarter Quell. Those happened every 25 years, and they were usually grand. Haymitch had participated and won his Quarter Quell. They still had time before that happened, and Amelia didn't want to think about it. Katniss and Peeta will be mentors this year, and they had a lot to learn. Amelia and Haymitch would be there every step of the way. 

Tonight there would be an announcement from the Capitol regarding the games. She didn't care much to listen to it but figured it was important. It always was with President Snow. Amelia planned to watch the announcement alone before heading over to see Haymitch. His kitchen wasn't ideal to cook in, but hers was. The girl always prepared dinner for them at her home before walking next door.

She hummed as she cut the vegetables. There was a heavy silence in her home, but it was appreciated. Suddenly, the projector in the other room turned on. A signal the announcement was going to start. Amelia was surprised because she thought it would be later in the day. She was wrong.

Setting down her knife, she strolled into the next room. "Ladies and gentleman," his voice echoed through her home. Amelia stood in the living room with crossed arms. "This is the 75th year of The Hunger Games." He stood on his podium addressing the city. "It was written in the charter of the games that every 25 years would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for the next generation." This wasn't news to her, but it was a requirement to announce a Quell in advance because they were significant. "And the memory of everyone who died in the uprising against the Capitol." Amelia noticed a large bowl behind him but didn't think much of it. "Every Quarter Quell has a special significance." Amelia scoffed at his words. It was just an excuse to kill children and keep the Districts in line. "This year, the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell." The crowd cheered. Amelia wanted to turn off the program, but something inside of her told her to wait. "It is a reminder that even the strongest can not overcome the power of the Capitol." His words caught her attention. They confused her. What did he mean? "This Quarter Quell, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each District." Amelia felt her heart drop at his words, a gasp escaping her lips. Her legs began to wobble, and she placed a hand on the wall. "Victors shall represent themselves on reaping day regardless of age, health, or situation." This was about Katniss. They were doing this to kill Katniss. It was the only way.

"No," Amelia said out loud. If this was about Katniss, there was a fault in his plan. Amelia. She could easily have her name pulled instead of Katniss. Even if Katniss's name was pulled, she could volunteer in her place, which she would do to save her.

"In addition," he wasn't finished. "To represent another quarter, there will be twenty-five Tributes. Out of the male and female tributes with more than one living Victor, their names have been added to the Capitol bowl. This Victor will not represent their District, but the Capitol." The crowd cheered in excitement. There was an aching in her heart. She knew what was about to happen. President Snow stood by the large bowl and put his hand in. This was his way of guaranteeing Katniss's spot in the arena. It wouldn't be Katniss's name. That would be too obvious. There was only one other name. "Amelia Sawyer."

Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor. Tears streamed down her face as she accepted the news. Amelia would be a Tribute in the 75th Hunger Games. She was going back into the arena. Pushing up from the ground, she stumbled out the back door. She needed fresh air and to be as far away from reality as possible.

One Last Game -Haymitch Abernathy-Where stories live. Discover now