Pregnant In The Quarter Quell

Chapter 1

I never thought about it–a rebellion. I never thought of a civil war or the dark days. The games have always been a part of my life. Hell, I've never known of a world without the so called 'peace' brought straight from the Capitol. But President Snow threatened that peace when he came to see me just before the victory tour, claiming Peeta and I's love story wasn't believable enough. He didn't see through our act. He knew. But now, I can't say exactly what Peeta and I share. Wether it's love or a friendship, I know I need Peeta. A part of me wants to love him, but another part of me is terrified. I have things I need to focus on. I can't fall for Peeta...not now, not ever. One vulnerable night on the train doesn't mean I'm in love with him.

"Katniss." My mother says softly, and my gaze breaks. "It's starting."

I draw my attention to the screen. Prior to the
Quarter Quell announcement was a special broadcast focusing on my wedding dresses. I didn't pay much attention considering I don't get to choose and the wedding isn't exactly what I want.

Prim is at my left side, and I lean into her. She wraps her arm around me and I smile softly. Prim, the only person I'm certain I love...the only person who has been worth fighting for. She is the reason I made it through The Hunger Games. Coming home to her was the only thing I wanted. I never realized the extras like marriage and acts that would come with it.

Today, The third Quarter Quell will be announced. Every 25 years, President Snow holds what is referred to as a 'Special' kind of games. 50 years ago, the districts had to select their own tributes and 25 years ago, there was double the amount of tributes. This happened to be the year that Haymitch Abernathy, our mentor for our games happened to win. Though, no one truly wins the games. Haymitch is a drunk and spends most of his time with a bottle of liquor in his hand. He wasn't much help when it came to the 'mentor' title.

My attention is elsewhere for the time being that President Snow discusses the previous Quells. All I can seem to think about is wether or not Prim will be okay. I can't volunteer for her now. If she gets reaped, I'll be forced to mentor her.

What President Snow rambles about is nothing I've never heard before. He explains the significance of each Quell and why they're important, but my attention is once again caught when he begins to announce the 75th Games' Quell. His raspy, deep voice speaks, and I listen intently. "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels, that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes shall be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

My body reacts before my mind has a chance, and in an instant I am running as fast as my feet can carry me towards no where. I have no place to go but the woods, so I settle for there, screaming in anger and fury. The words sink in. From the existing pool of victors. I know what that means. There's only one female victor alive from District 12; me. President Snow wasn't lying. This is my punishment. After being tortured and hurt and almost facing death, I'm being reaped again.

I'm going back into the games.

Tears flow down my cheeks as I kick and punch anything around me, eventually completely exhausting myself. I know I won't make it out alive this time, but it occurs to me that there are two male victors: Peeta and Haymitch. I pick myself off of the ground, using all of the energy I have left and go towards Haymitch's house. I don't bother to knock. He already has a bottle of rum in his hand and I sit across from him, breathing heavily.

"Lover boy was just here." He shoots at me, taking a sip of his drink. "He was begging me to let him go in with you to protect–"

"Peeta can't go into the arena again" I interrupt, not caring about myself. "He has a life ahead of him. He's loved. He has a family. I don't have a choice, but you do, and you and I both know that Peeta can't go back there."

"Maybe you're right." Haymitch says, placing his bottle loudly on the table. "Besides, all I'm good for is drinking. It might just be me and you in there, sweetheart." He snarls, handing me his bottle. "Want a hit?"

I shake my head. "No, I feel sick." I breathe, biting my lip. My head is pounding and I have the worst nausea.

"You know, I can't control if Peeta volunteers for me, but I promise that if his name is called, I'll volunteer."

"Thank you Haymitch...thank you."

+++

I find myself in Peeta's doorway, my head beating so hard I can almost hear it. I hold my cramping stomach, waiting for him to answer. As soon as he does, I walk straight into his embrace, and he holds me tight, rubbing my back softly.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta." I whisper softly. "I'm so sorry."