Pregnant in the Quell

Chapter 26

I can't give you an explanation to where I have been. But just know that I always read your comments and still appreciate every vote.

To be honest, I was confused as to where I left the book. I've had to reread the last few chapters again and again to get some understanding.

Just as an overview, Orla is around a year old. Katniss is home with her baby and Peeta.

I can't promise anything, I don't know if this update was a spur of the moment kind of update, or an every week sort.

Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. Xx

*Two months later*

Everything was going fine until a few days ago. Hell, I might say it was going better than fine, maybe even good. With the help from Peeta, I was slowly getting better. My hair was getting thicker, my body fuller, etcetera. I was finally enjoying having Orla. Don't get me wrong, of course I love her. I just wasn't liking looking after her. However I was doing a much better job of looking after her than me. Don't even start on my emotions, but in general I'd say I was much happier. And it was all down to one person. But that's when I ruined it.

I thought I could push myself and go into Prim's room. Well 'pushed it' I did. At first it was tough, but bearable. Then I discovered a childhood doll Prim always slept with. It was covered in dust but I could recognise it anywhere. I already knew as soon as I stepped in the room it was a mistake. I could physically feel a cold sweat begin to cover my body. The only thing I could think of to do was drop it and get out the room.

After feeding Orla and waiting till she was asleep, I sluggishly walked to my room. I felt I could cry and scream, but I knew that would wake the baby I just spent an hour getting to sleep. I thought I was on the verge of a breakdown. I probably was.

If Peeta didn't come visit Orla and me everyday, I don't know what he would have found. A zombie-like person. Barely looking after herself and just managing her baby. Me slowly starving. I don't know, and to be honest, don't care as much as I should. As long as Orla was ok. I knew he would never turn her down. She was his favourite person. In the months before, when I was doing ok, we would spend evenings like a family. Not one with a messed up mother. We would laugh when Orla did something adorable. We would go out for picnics at sunset. And then it stopped.

Going into Prim's room was a bad idea.

It was like a a new set of guilt had washed over me. No. Drowned me. Memories and images of her came back so quickly I felt dizzy. Part of me wanted it. I missed her face so much, and the images seemed so real. Like I was back with her. And as soon as they were over, I wanted to die.

But once again, Peeta rescued me. The next day, as soon as he saw me in the bed, bloodshot eyes from crying, no evidence of food eaten, he rushed to my side. At first I wouldn't talk, but after 45 minutes of him talking about nothing specific, I finally told him. After that, he asked when I last ate. He said he would cook me whatever I wanted, just as long as I ate.

He checked on Orla too. She was as happy as a baby could get when she saw him. Bless her.

As we walked downstairs, I paused. I realised something about myself. I was acting selfishly. Peeta didn't deserve this. Orla didn't deserve this. I mentally vowed I would see anyone, talk to anyone who had the chance of making me better. Getting me over my depression. The same hope I felt when I saw Peeta in the Victor's Village emerged in me once again.

I'll get better. For my family.