Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 9 ♢ It's Not Over Yet (KE)

WARNING: This contains childbirth, so like, if you think awkward dialogue and the mention of contractions will make you uncomfortable, maybe don't read this? lmao i'm sorry

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Kassia had never once thought of harboring life before. Much less in the face of loss. When she thought of her future, she'd always thought this moment would come much later in life, after she'd flashed her smiles and flaunted her magnificent figure and danced the waltz at many a party in her honor. She thought this moment would happen when she'd finally gotten married and earned her first wrinkle, still far from old age but getting there nevertheless. 

But most of all, she never thought she'd be going through this moment alone.

"Fuck! Fucking shit! Do you know how painful this is, doc? Very fucking painful! Stop bumping the fucking bed into everything areyoudense, come on!"

Aggression deflated, and so did her body. The sound of wheels rolling aggressively over pristine tile was all she could hear above all else. Her back lay upon a weak mattress, fingers clinging tightly to the metal bars on either side of her. The pillow was flat, and her skull sunk into it, blonde hair plastered to her forehead and temples and cheeks and in her mouth. She was soaked. This was hell. Fucking hell. She squeezed her eyes to a close, willing this situation away, and when she opened them, the fluorescent rectangles on the ceiling were passing overhead, there-not-there-not-there-not-there.

The pain had, for the moment, dulled, and so she allowed herself a moment to breathe, because she knew she'd forget next time. But when she breathed, the panic began to tingle, a million and one different scenarios and a million things that could go wrong. What if they had to cut her open? What if she wound up with a stillborn, like her poor aunt so many years ago? What if this didn't work? What if this didn't work? What if this didn't work?

What if she couldn't do it?

Another contraction hit, and her whole abdomen, back, being began to tear itself apart. She yelled down the hall, and for the first time, the populace saw their Victor scream and cry. The shit I do for you, Aeneas! And you're not even here! You were supposed to be here, Annie! She wanted him there. She wanted him there and she knew what it'd be like if he were there because he'd be holding her hand and not complaining about the nails drawing blood and he'd tell her everything was gonna be fine, princess, but it wasn't, because that wasn't the case at all, and Aeneas wasn't there because he was dead.

But she could pretend he wasn't.

Another scream.

Fade to black. Heartbeat. Rewind.

She laid on her back, propped up, shirt lifted just enough to expose the entirety of her belly and nothing more. The room was like butterscotch and peanut butter, with its brown chair just for her and its pumpkin walls and the candies in the corner that this ultrasound technician just couldn't resist every now and then (these Capitolites loved their candy). He was a short man with a peaceful look to him, but Kassia didn't particularly like him anyhow, and she feared he would press too harshly on her stomach and break something. Sometimes her hand would reach out to try and smack him away, but he'd simply look her in the eye and say, "I'm being as careful as I can, Kassia."

She kept those hands of hers clasped together on her chest, fingers laced in anticipation. Eyes drifted down to see him moving a little device across her stomach. It swam in the gel lathered there. He only glanced at her sometimes, more concerned with the equipment and screens before him. She sighed.

I should be more grateful. People in the districts don't have this kind of medical care. They don't get to know. But still, she wanted more out of this - other Victors had spouses there with them. They could smile to one another and wait. But she was alone, and this wait was agony, until: