For the different parts of the story, I put together a playlist that I listened to while writing those parts. For the next chapters:

Playlist: Prison
- Disparate Youth – Santigold
- Heads Will Roll – Yeah Yeah Yeahs
- Called Out In the Dark – Snow Patrol
- Mirrors (Slowed Tiktok Version) – Justin Timberland
- Hide Away – Daya
- Style (Slowed + Reverb) – Taylor Swift

-

Days of Future Past

The room into which I am led is not large. It looks like a square with a wide table in the middle and a chair on either side. A Peacekeeper gestures for me to sit down. The man with the hard brown eyes sits down across from me. A mirror is framed in the wall behind him.

I know him. It's the same Peacekeeper that blocked my way on the night of the interviews as I was about to go back to the penthouse with Haymitch and the children.

"Well Miss Trinket," he begins, eyeing me without a trace of emotion. I can't tell what he's up to. Even less do I know why I'm even sitting here. "I'm Corporal Cullen and I'll be responsible for you as long as you're here. At the beginning I will ask you a few questions and then decide how to proceed."

I swallow and look up. "Where are we?"

"Local authorities," he replies tersely. "No more questions. As you probably already know, your tribute, Katniss, has done some damage." He pauses for a moment, looking at me as if waiting for a reaction or a sign from me. I nod, after all they showed it on the news.

"What about Katniss?" It comes out of my mouth. "And Peeta? Are they alright?"

Cullen smiles thinly. "Nice to know where your priorities are, Miss Trinket. They could have been fine, but now we're at war, so I don't think any of them will be fine."

It's like a punch in the pit of the stomach. War? "Sir?"

"You don't need to know all the facts, just this much: A group of revolutionaries got them before we could. Haymitch Abernathy appears to have joined them, as have several other notables from the Capitol." He eyes me sharply. Suddenly I feel sick.

"Haymitch?" I choke out. Revolutionaries? "Where is he?"

"Don't play dumb, Miss Trinket," he says, suddenly sharper.

"Excuse me?" I retorted indignantly, eyeing him angrily. I don't know what he wants from me. Why should I play dumb?

Hearing the tone of my voice, he fixes his eyes on me, but now that he's pissed me off, I'm not afraid to meet his gaze. We look at each other for a few minutes. Then he suddenly beckons one of the guards over and whispers something in his ear. He nods and disappears.

He looks at me and sighs. "We can do this in two ways, either you cooperate, or I have to resort to other means to get what I want." He doesn't look angry, but almost bored, as if he does this every day. I'm slowly getting dreaded.

Cooperate? What does he mean with that? I raise my head and look at him in bewilderment.

Taking advantage of my confusion, Cullen leans over the table with both hands as he asks the next question. "When was the last time you saw Haymitch Abernathy?" I'm starting to realize this must be an interrogation.

"Last night," I say, watching him run his hand over his face.

"Can that be more precise?"

"I can't remember the exact time anymore, but the sun was just setting."

He looks at me. "You can't remember the time anymore," he repeats slowly. "That means you used to know."

"I'm sorry, what? No, I didn't mean it that way," I reply, annoyed about what he rhymes from my choice of words.

"What did you mean then?" he asks.

I sigh and give him an annoyed look as I lean back in the chair. "I meant I don't know. And never knew either." The tone of my voice tells him I've had enough of his questioning.

"Isn't that funny," Corporate Cullen says to no one in particular and takes the few steps to the wall. Then he turns his head towards me. "Effie Trinket, who is always so punctual, doesn't know what time it was when she had a meeting with Abernathy." Something in his eyes twinkles. I can't tell what it is, but I don't like it.

"I never said anything about a meeting," I say like a shot.

"Aha!" he exclaims and turns to me. "If it wasn't a meeting, then what did you and Abernathy do?"

Perplexed as I am, my mouth falls open. I stare at him for a second and then immediately catch myself. Suddenly I know what he was getting at all this time. He specifically asked the questions to lure me into a trap and I idiot took the bait like a fish in a pond! "We watched the Games together."

He nods and sits down again. "Then why did we only find you in the penthouse this morning? Did Abernathy just vanish into thin air?"

"No– no, I retired later. He ..."

"Yes?"

I take a deep breath. "He said to go to sleep and that he would wake me up as soon as they started Beetee's plan."

Cullen's eyes narrow and he watches me. Then after a while he nods and leans back in his chair. "Your descriptions match our records."

"Records?"

Cullen nods again. "But yeah, didn't you know that the Capitol has every corner of the Training Center monitored? But you could have guessed that, couldn't you?" A grin creeps onto his face.

To tell the truth, probably only few Capitols could imagine that the government has them under surveillance. Such a thing would never occur to a normal person from here. But if what he says is true and they really record everything, then they will know about my nightmares. They will know what I said to Haymitch, what Haymitch said to me. Everything. Suddenly my stomach tightens and for the first time I think to myself if I've ridden myself into something that I won't be able to get out of anytime soon. I've said things, things against the Capitol. I've said things they can charge me with. A touch of doubt will be enough for them.

"Scared?" Cullen's eyes seem to register and record every movement on my face. I have to play my part better. Better today than ever before.

I straighten up, put on my mask and shake my head.

Cullen, who must have realized that he's not going to have an easy game to play with me, gets up and leans me over the table. "Then one last time, where is Haymitch Abernathy?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly.

"So you don't know."

I nod.

"I'm afraid I can't believe what you're saying," Cullen says. "We know Abernathy wouldn't just leave you in the Capitol like that. He knows what we do to people who are close to him." He looks at me almost pityingly. Because what he says is nothing more than If he really cared about you, he would have taken you with him.

I swallow and banish any emotion from my face. He must not see that he is driving me to despair. Because what he says is true. After all, Haymitch has let me down once before.

But something else catches my attention. He knows what we do to people who are close to him.

oOo

After asking me a dozen other questions, Corporal Cullen sends me off with the guards, stating that my trial is scheduled for tomorrow. As I am about to bombard him with questions, the guards yank me out of the interrogation room.

Trial. But what have I done? What is the charge? Thoughts swirl in my head as the two Peacekeepers escort me down the tiled hallway. But no matter how many questions I ask them, they ignore me and only squeeze my upper arms tighter.

I have no idea what kind of authority this is supposed to be, but we don't meet a single official. Only Peacekeepers. The hallways are white and bare and I feel cramped. The corridors are confusingly intertwined, after just three turns I'm lost with my sense of direction. The building must cover a very large area, that much is certain.

Eventually we come to an elevator. Not one of the luxurious ones at the Training Center, but a massive one, all steel and metal, and big enough to carry an escort of Peacekeepers. As the massive doors close, I feel even smaller than I already am. I stare at my reflection. The black dress I rushed on tonight looks completely distorted in the mirror. I look out of place next to the two soldiers.

The following questions Cullen asked me had less to do with Haymitch personally and more to do with my role as District 12's escort. Why I became an escort, how I got on with Haymitch in the beginning and how I managed to keep him under control. I've tried to answer them as best I can without putting myself in even greater danger.

I wonder where they are taking me. We're going down. As we exit at a lower level, the Peacekeepers lead me down a long corridor that looks exactly like the others before, except that there are a series of doors. Doors that can all be locked from the outside. It's beginning to dawn on me what this place really must be. My palms start to sweat as we pull up in front of one of the doors.

Perplexed, I stare first at the door, then at the two Peacekeepers who motion for me to enter the room behind it. "Is that– is that a prison cell?" I ask, my voice pitching two octaves in horror. I take a step backwards, away from the door. My heart is pounding in my chest and now I can't hold back the panic.

One of the guards comes up to me and for a moment a crazy thought shoots through my head. What chance would I have if I ran now? If I would just turn around and run, back the way we came, hoping I could find my way out of here. But then my eyes fall on their guns, and I realize I probably wouldn't even be able to make it around the corner.

Instead, I just flinch as the Peacekeeper grabs my arm. "This is just for your own safety," he says through his helmet, pulling me towards him. Stumbling, I have no choice but to follow him on unsteady legs.

As soon as I enter the room, I realize that it really is a cell. But I hear the door slam behind me before I can turn around. I rush to the door and pound on it with all my might as they lock the door. If they hear me, they ignore me. Stunned, I lean against the door and slowly sink to the floor. I'm trying to get my breathing under control, because now I'm overwhelmed by fear.

Tears run down my face. I'm sitting alone in a prison cell. Away from the world not knowing what I've done. Any human being beyond my reach. Haymitch.

The hours pass and the more time goes by, the more afraid I am that they will forget me. Down here, where dozens of corridors and doors separate me from the outside world, I could easily be forgotten. I'm not their biggest problem.

With the last of my strength I push these thoughts away from me. For the first time since I got here, I lift my head and try to take in every corner of the cell. To be honest, it doesn't look like what I would have imagined a prison cell to look like. The thought of imagining a prison cell at all is insane enough. For us prison is a foreign word.

In the corner is a simple bed, with pillows and duvet cover. Then there is a toilet, a sink and even a mirror and a small chest of drawers next to the bed.

With a tearful sniffle, I wipe my face once and then finally find the strength to get up. Shaking and a little dazed, I stagger towards the bed and slowly fall onto the mattress. It's not nearly as soft as at home, but I'm happy to have at least something, although I didn't really expect anything.

When they even bring me something warm to eat, I manage to push my desperate self far enough into the background so that the enthusiastic Effie can think clearly again. They won't forget me, I seem to be important to them, otherwise I wouldn't be here. No matter what happens, I'll get out of this cell tomorrow.

oOo

I don't know how much time has passed, but it seems like forever ago I was locked up here. I lie huddled in bed with the covers up to my chin, rocking back and forth trying to shake off the tiredness.

Falling asleep here would mean hell on earth. I would soon wake up in a sweat, betrayed by my own brain implanting these nightmares in me, far from any human soul that could hear my screams. No one will hear me down here. I am isolated from everything.

In the dark of the cell I sit up, pull my knees under my chin and press my back against the cold wall. With wide eyes I try to focus on an invisible point in the darkness. I can't see the wall on the other side and it looks like the room is going further into darkness. But I know that the wall is only swallowed by the black.

Lips pressed together, I slow my breath so I might be able to hear a sound from outside. I listen hard, but there's nothing. Like I'm all alone down here. There has to be a Peacekeeper here. Anyone.

At some point, when I've had enough of the blackness, I close my eyes and let my thoughts wander to Haymitch. Is he alright? Where is he? Why did you leave me again?

There are so many questions I can't answer. Who else is going to answer them for me? Here they will definitely not be willing for it.

So much happened. My head can't process everything at the same time. It needs time. As the night progresses, I try to make connections and relations between memories that now seem vague and fuzzy, as if they were ages ago. Our kiss was less than 24 hours ago.

The kiss. An image flashes before my eyes and it looks so real that I bang my head on the wall trying to escape.

I see Haymitch years younger than now, but the expression of pain hasn't changed over the years. A smile graces his lips. You're beautiful. His voice sounds different. Livelier, stronger. A younger reflection of myself gives him a bright smile. Then he stretches out his hand to me. The tailored suit fits perfectly. Her delicate hand is smaller than his, but that doesn't seem to bother her as he gently pulls her towards him. He stabilizes her waist with one hand as he brushes a faint kiss on her lips. Then he lifts his head and his gray eyes sparkle.

A sound escapes my throat. I leap out of bed towards them both, wanting to rip my younger self off him, stepping between them, but when I touch her shoulder there's nothing but air. I lose my balance and have to watch as the two vanish into nothing before my eyes.

"No," I call out, my voice sounding disturbed and confused. "Leave her alone." A tremor grips my body and I wrap my arms around my chest. Hot tears roll down my cheeks. It's only when they hit the ground that I realize I'm hallucinating.

What I saw was nothing more than a memory of myself. Something years ago, at the very beginning. Something Haymitch and I never said a word about again. Dead silence. A small part of me still hates him for it. But another part tells me I should have seen this coming. He pushed me away the first time too.

The anger that flares up in me at this second comes as a complete surprise. I fell in love with him. I was a young naive woman. He made me believe that he liked me too and then, overnight, he lost interest. As if I were a piece of clothing that he could just take off if he wanted to.

But it's been years since then and a lot has happened. The more he drank, the colder our relationship became. From the year after our first Games, he treated me like a doormat, not even glancing at me when he spoke to me. But at some point we must have gotten our act together.

Years after this thing, we were finally starting to act like adults. Sometimes I thought he had forgotten what had happened between us, just like he tried to forget his past. But the more time passed, the more often I caught his looks, which he gave me in moments when he probably thought I wouldn't notice them. I don't know what he was thinking, I never found the strength to return his looks, but always pretended not to notice.

And now look at what has become of us. Katniss and Peeta changed everything. I don't know how Haymitch would have ended up if they hadn't come into our lives. They touched him, they roused something deep in his heart. And now he's a completely different person. And yet he reminds me a little of the old Haymitch, of the old, young Haymitch.

Although the memories of that time still hurt, I have to smile.

If he really cared about you, he would have taken you with him.

-

In this chapter, there are more teasers to the past Effie and Haymitch share. We'll come to that point. In my other fanfiction "An Era Awakens" this past is told, but I will only start uploading it when this one finishes. It makes more sense this way. 

Idk if I already told you last week, but from now on, the updates for this fanfic will come every week! :)

See you soon,

Skyllen