I am pregnant. Well, I'm not pregnant. But I am. I don't know if this makes sense. Peeta has always been so good with words, so witty and charming. I can barely make sense of my own thoughts, much less put it down on paper, but if I know that if I don't do it, no one else will. This is Katniss Everdeen, winner of the 74th Hunger Games, tribute of the 75th Hunger Games (3rd Quarter Quell), and citizen of the non-existent District 12. And you are reading the story of the rebellion.

Peeta Mellark is gone. His sweet blue eyes, wonderful strong hands, his smooth words, his warm embrace. He's gone. That's all I can ever think about. Well, that and the baby. People have always known us, the tributes of District 12, as the star-crossed lovers. I never exactly used the term myself because I had never considered Peeta as my lover, or I his. But, fate is cruel in that I had never realized my feelings for Peeta until I realized how life without him could truly be.

"Katniss." Finnick, the tribute from District 4, places a calming hand on my shoulder. I can hear the pity in his voice, the worry. And in that one moment, I want to kill him. I want to take the syringe that Haymitch forced me to drop, and murder Finnick Odair. I want him to pay for losing Peeta. I want him to feel my pain. I don't want his sympathy. I don't care how weak Finnick is from saving my life; I want him dead.

"Catnip," Gale says softly. I know what he's doing. He's trying to calm me down. He sees the venom in my eyes. Gale, sweet Gale, the only person left who knows me better than I know myself, but in this moment, I want to push him away. "Peeta's safe now."

I ignore him, standing up weakly. My whole body is skinny from the effects of the Quarter Quell. I still haven't regained the weight that I lost during that life-altering punishment. I can see Finnick, Haymitch, Heavensbee, and Gale exchange a worried look. My legs can barely hold my body up. I know that they are all wondering whether they should help me. My knees are wobbling, and I'm exhausted. I lost a lot of blood when Johanna removed the tracker from my arm, and the medical care in District 13 isn't as good as in the Capitol. Finally, Gale picks me up and carries me to my room, the rest of the men following.

As he places me in the warm bed, I start to cry, and I hate myself for showing weakness. Gale does his best to comfort me, but there's nothing he can do. My district is now nonexistent. My "husband" is dead. My life is spinning out of control.

"Katniss." Haymitch begins. But it's no use; I've already blocked out his little speech. Haymitch betrayed me, and I can't even look at him without thinking of how he saved me and lost Peeta.

Heavensbee closes by offering his condolences and shuffles out of the room. I only continue to cry and try to pretend that I can't hear him. I don't want condolences; I want Peeta. Soon enough, I'm left alone, so I close my eyes and try to sleep. I can tell by the bags under my eyes that I could use it. I don't dream anymore. Ever since the Capitol announced the death of Peeta soon after his capture, I can't dream. I can't be happy. I can't be scared. I can't feel anything but pain and hurt.

When I wake up, I feel somewhat stronger, but I soon remember that Peeta isn't next to me. Peeta is gone. My heart sinks, and I can't remember how to breathe, how to live without him. Dr. Wilkinson, the best doctor in all of District 13, walks in. She doesn't say anything about how tired I look. She doesn't mention the tears on my cheeks. She doesn't even acknowledge Peeta's absence. She only pets my hair soothingly, as my mother would, and lets me continue to cry.

I finally stop, and she gives me a sad smile. Dr. Wilkinson is one of my favorite people in all of District 13. She's like Cinna in that she doesn't get too emotional, but she does give affection and her love shows through her medical abilities. It's no wonder why she's the best.

"Katniss, why don't you take some of this medicine, and we can talk about what you missed." She says slowly, passing me a small pill along with a cup of water. I quickly swallow the pill and pass her the empty cup. I had almost forgot my instructions. She promised to fill in for all of the meetings I would miss and report back to me after. I was now a key leader of the rebellion.

She takes my hands in hers and looks at me with motherly love. "Katniss, while you slept, I've been thinking about whether or not to tell you this, whether to give you hope. Haymitch, of course, ordered me not to. They think that you will be let down again by reality, but there is a small chance that what they say is true, and I believe that you have a right to know." I nod, waiting for her to proceed. "There is a small chance, Katniss, that Peeta Mellark is alive. We believe that the Capitol would have been very public about his execution, but we didn't even hear of it until after the fact. Peeta is useful bait for you, Katniss, and we can't believe that the Capitol didn't use him against us. We think that there is a small chance that President Snow kept Peeta alive and spread news of his death so that we would lose hope."

I gasp, trying my best to take it all in, that Peeta might still be alive. For the first time in the weeks I have spent since my arrival in District 13, I feel hope. The small chance that Peeta might still be somewhere in the Capitol waiting for us to rescue him.

"We have to save him." I say somewhat slowly, trying to devise a plan in my head. "Dr. Wilkinson, please notify Haymitch, Gale, Heavensbee, Finnick, and Mavrick that we will be meeting in my room in an hour. Also, tell Beetee if he's up to it."

Dr. Wilkinson smiled and nodded; glad to finally see me feeling hopeful again. "I will, but first, we need to talk about the baby."

The baby. Right. In the previous entries, I never mentioned the baby as much as I should have. I never mentioned its conception either. I should have. I should have been honest. If you can't be honest to a journal, then what can you be truthful to?

So here's the honest truth. Peeta and I had sex.

At the time, it wasn't because we were so in love. It wasn't because we didn't want to die without having done it. It was for survival only. It was on the roof that day, the day before the interviews, the day of sunsets and games and sketching. It was possibly one of the best days of my life.

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever," he says.

Usually this soft of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I'll never have, I just let the word slip out. "Okay."

I can hear the smile in his voice. "Then you'll allow it?"

"I'll allow it." I say.

Peeta lights up like the sun; he is so happy. But, then his smile dims, and he turns to me, pain in his eyes.

"Katniss, we have to light the fuse." He says, knowing that in reality, President Snow would never allow us to live in this moment for more than tonight. He would torture us and kill us.

I turn to him, puzzled. Sensing his urgency, we both sit up and look each other right in the eye. "What fuse?" I ask.

"There already cries of cruelty and anger coming from all over Panem." He explains. "But something has to set the people in motion. We have to do something." Peeta takes my hand, and in his eyes, I can see that he is about to plead. "Katniss, I need you to get pregnant."

I almost feel outraged at his suggestion, but I can tell that his words come out of necessity, not out of lust and out of selfishness. "Peeta, I don't understand." I state simply.

"Putting a pregnant woman in the arena is horrific. The people won't know what to think. I think that you could light the fuse. I need you to light the fuse. Katniss, I am going to work harder than anything to keep you alive in that arena, but I don't want to have to. I want to be in the middle of rebellion, in the middle of hope."

I am stunned by Peeta's short speech, by the effectiveness of his words of his passion. I can't imagine having a family, submitting a child to the pain of the Hunger Games, having to watch my baby go through the reapings. I recoil at the simple thought of reproduction, but then I imagine what it would be like to have a family in a world without Hunger Games. I imagine the effect we could have on the world. And even though having a child is my greatest fear, I look Peeta straight in the eye and then answer with my lips, with my body, with my heart.

I never took a short nap, like it says in my previous entry. I had sex and lied in Peeta's arms for the remainder of the time, until he pulled me up to see the sunset. It was beautiful night, a night that resulted in my pregnancy. Though I wasn't as pregnant then as Peeta later claimed on National TV with Caesar that night (the claim he made without my prior knowledge), seeing as we wouldn't have known until at least after the first month, which is why I had to fake it during the Hunger Games. But now it is certain that I am pregnant.

"Katniss," Dr. Wilkinson said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I need you to eat more. You're not gaining the weight you should be. Your baby needs to be healthy. You need to be healthy." Her eyes plead with me. And I nod, giving into her appeal. I had refused to eat much in my first weeks in District 13. I was too angry, too hurt, and too hopeless. I had lost the will to live without Peeta. But now things were different. Peeta has a chance.

After a restless hour, Dr. Wilkinson (her first name is Kendra), Haymitch, Heavensbee, Gale, Finnick, and Beetee file into my room. Beetee has recovered immensely sense our arrival here. He's almost stronger than he was before the Games.

"Haymitch, I don't appreciate your choice in saving me. I don't appreciate your betrayal, and I certainly don't appreciate your willingness in keeping the truth from me, but we need to work together to save Peeta." I begin. Haymitch nods without any surprise while the others look baffled at my knowledge of the possibly faked death of Peeta. "We need to send in a small, effective team to the Capitol, a maximum of five people, that will be able to save Peeta, Johanna, and Enobaria. I propose that we send myself, Finnick, Beetee if he recovers quickly, Kendra, and a choice of Mavrick."

My suggestion causes conflict. None of them want me to join. I'm too emotional, too vulnerable because of my pregnancy. I'm too important. Finnick they don't mind sending except that he is one of the best fighters here and if they lose him, they lose a lot of strength. Heavensbee agrees with my plan. Beetee only nods in consent. Mavrick, the mayor of District 13, doesn't even want to send help to the others. He thinks it's too risky at this time. Only Haymitch doesn't offer any wisdom.

"What do you think, Haymitch?" Finnick says, clearly on my side. He wants a fight.

Haymitch clears his throat and frowns. "If we're sending a team, they need to leave tomorrow. The longer Peeta and the others are in the Capitol, the sooner they're dead if they aren't already. I don't want to send Katniss. She's our mockingjay. I wouldn't even want to send a team except I know Katniss is lost if we don't rescue them soon. We'll send Finnick, Kendra, Beetee, a choice of Mavrick, and myself."

Everyone murmurs in agreement. Haymitch, though lacking in athletic ability, has the brains to get us out of there safely. Only I am angry. I want to go, but they refuse. I have the baby to worry about.

But what they don't know, is that baby or not, I will be on the hovercraft tomorrow. And I will be in Peeta's arms by the end of the week, or someone is going to pay.