Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters!

The word is staring back at me mockingly: Positive.

I sigh in frustration and toss the test on the little mountain of pregnancy tests I've created.

I feel like the pregnancy tests are conspiring against me. For they all claim the same thing: that there's a fetus growing inside of me. I stare at the tests angrily and dramatically snatch the metal box from the marble counter.

I carefully study the cover. Hoping that maybe it will say "These tests are 100% foolproof. Unless your name is Katniss Everdeen. In that case, you'll have to use reverse psychology when analysing the results" or something else along those lines.

Unfortunately only part of that statement is actually displayed on the sleek, Capitol designed box. "These tests are 100% foolproof". Nothing about using reverse psychology if you're Katniss Everdeen.

Bummer.

I march over to the mountain of pregnancy tests and angrily snatch a handful of tests. I go over them carefully. Every single pregnancy test I check has the same word on it, in big, blue letters:

Positive.

I refuse to think about what would happen if I'm actually pregnant. But considering that I plan to waste the rest of my life away in this bathroom, I suppose it doesn't really matter anyway.

I take in the bathroom carefully. The walls are painted white, contrasting sharply with the black marble countertop and the black engravings on the cabinets and the toilet seat - yes, the toilet seat has engraving on it. The edges of the bathtub and the countertop look sharp and the outlets definitely aren't child-proof.

I quickly come to the unsurprising conclusion that the bathroom is not the ideal environment to raise a child in. But it'll have to do. Raising my still unborn child in a bathroom heavily outweighs leaving the bathroom and facing the consequences of my getting pregnant. I've always been the hermit type.

Now lets pray my child has no objections to being bathroom-schooled.

And that's when it sinks in.

I am pregnant

I'M GOING TO HAVE A BABY

How am I supposed to raise a child when I have trouble remembering to brush my teeth twice a day?

I let myself fall back into the bathtub and force myself to breathe. I try telling myself that I've been taking care of Prim and my mother half my life, so honestly, how bad could having another mouth to feed really be? However that's such a flat out lie that not even I can convince myself to believe it.

I groan, not even Cinnas pretty dresses were going to be able to get me out of this one.

I should have known that with my luck it would only take one time. One spur of the moment decision. One moment of stupid impulsiveness.

The odds really haven't been in my favor lately.

I wonder what to do next. I suppose I could send a note. But what would I put on it? "Hey Gale, I know we haven't really talked for the past 3 weeks but I just want to let you know that I'm pregnant with your child. Oh, but we have to pretend Peeta is the father! Just thought I'd let you know. Love, Katniss." For some reason I don't think that would go over very well.

Now you're probably wondering that if I haven't really talked to Gale in 3 weeks, how I find myself pregnant with his child?

I blame Haymitch. Haymitch and his darned alcohol.

Haymitch, in one of his drunken guilt-trips, had decided to organise a small get together at his place. And when he'd shown up at my doorstep, babbling about "spending quality-time" and "really needing me right now" I'd grudgingly agreed to come to his little gathering.

Apparently Haymitch's idea of a small get together involved a hundred or so people and liquor, a lot of liquor.

Which was why 4 hours later I'd been sitting in a corner hoping no one would notice me. I'd talked to more people than I'd wanted to, downed more drinks than I could count, felt tipsier than I'd ever felt and was more than ready to get out of there already.

As I'd felt a hand on my shoulder I'd quickly prepared to make up some excuse about why I abolutely could not stay and make small talk but halted when I looked up and saw Gale's smiling face.

He'd been wearing his usual hunting clothes. It was obvious that he either hadn't wanted to go to the party and that he'd be damned if he dressed up for it, or that Haymitch had pulled the it's-just-a-small-gathering card on him as well.

"Hey Catnip." He'd said, grinning at me and plopping down on the chair next to me. The fact that he was not sulking in a corner meant that he'd probably had a bit too much to drink as well.

"elloooo Gale." I'd slurred, grinning back at him.

We'd spent some minutes in a comfortable silence and I would have been perfectly content spending the remainder of the evening that way. But Gale had abruptly jumped up, almost knocking over his chair, and smiled at me mischievously.

"Let's get out of here." he'd stated bluntly, grabbing my hand and forcing me to stand up without waiting for my answer.

Before I knew it we were sitting in my old house in the Seam. Gale had started spinning his usual talk; injustice, the Capitol, revenge. I'd nodded numbly, whereas the alcohol brought out Gale's inner rebel even more all it did to me was induce in me in some sort of dreamy haze.

He'd turned his head so that he was facing me and ranted on "It's not fair Katniss. Why do they have the power to dictate our lives? To tell us who to love? I wish there was something I could do to show them that they don't control us. That no matter what they do, they can't change who we are. I-" he'd hesitated, I still remember the pain in his storming grey eyes "I just wish they didn't have the power to influence every single aspect of our life! Our jobs, whether or not we have food - who we grow old with"

Then he'd taken my face in his hands and pressed his lips against mine.

I'd been shocked, frozen and unable to move. His lips had been so soft and warm against mine. I'd instinctively started kissing him back. As soon as he got a response he'd turned more and wrapped his arms tightly around me - never halting what could only be described as his 'gentle assault' on my lips. Said 'gentle assault' had sent shivers racing down my spine.

I hadn't been able to stop myself from wondering if this was what would have happened if it weren't for the Capitol. Whether or not I would have ended up with Gale. And living the life the Capitol had taken away from me felt like my own personal form of revenge. So my intoxicated brain had decided that sleeping with Gale was an excellent idea.

And I had.

And now I was pregnant.

After that things had been pretty weird between us. We'd both been content with not speaking until we'd dealt with what had happened in our separate ways.

Although I suppose I should talk to him to tell him that I'm pregnant now.

With that thought several problems made itself known. I couldn't tell anyone Gale was the father. I doubt me announcing that I'm pregnant with Gale's love child is going to convince anyone that I am, in fact, in love with Peeta.

On top of that, everyone still thinks Gale is my cousin. Now I don't know what is acceptable in the Capitol and what is not. But I'm willing to bet that incest is on the list of unacceptable things.

So, the right thing to do in this situation would probably be to tell my mother first. However I see a couple of problems with that. With everyone thinking that I'm in love with Peeta and all, she'll probably assume he's the father. And I am not prepared to make Peeta suffer my mother's' wrath, frankly I'm not even 100% positive he'll survive it.

Secondly the Capitol wouldn't be able to keep a story as big as the doomed couple having a baby quiet. Gale won't be able to live with the thought that I'm pregnant with Peeta's child. Which would result in Gale and Haymitch finding each other and drinking themselves to death.

Which would in turn result in Prim and I being left to our own devices. My pregnant self won't be able to be much help either so I doubt Prim would come out of this situation unscatched.

Lady will undoubtedly die too.

And Buttercup will be the lone survivor of this tragedy, spending the remainder of his 9 lives telling his tales of woe to his fellow cats.

Taking all this into consideration, becoming a bathroom-hermit would truly be the responsible thing to do.

My carefully laid out plans of becoming a hermit are interrupted by Madge entering the bathroom - without knocking. I knew it was a bad idea to give her the keys to the house.

She was supposed to use them for emergencies only. I should have realised that a lot more things classify as an emergency for her than for me.

It's obvious she doesn't notice my distraught look, for as soon as she's closed the door behind her she starts talking:"Katniss! Remember I told you about the guy that I've liked for a long time?" She says it in a hushed voice. She's out of breath, too. I figure she's been running. I notice her cheeks are red. I'm not sure if it's because she's blushing or if it's because she's been running though.

I do remember the guy she's liked for a long time. Except she always refused to tell me who it was, she told me that all I needed to know was that they couldn't ever be together because he already liked someone else. And, with my complete lack of interest in romance, I had never really pressed the matter.

She doesn't wait for my answer and continues:''Well, I - and promise you won't freak out, I don't think he wants me telling you just yet but I think you deserve to know because... please just promise you won't freak out?-'' she glances at me sideways and at my nod continues carefully:"It's Gale. It's not official yet, but we're going out and if you don't want us to we won't! I'm sorry we didn't tell-" She abruptly stops talking when she spots the pile of pregnancy tests lying next to me.

I really should have burned those when I had the chance. I knew they were the devil's spawn from the beginning.

She rushes over to the pile and grabs a handful of tests, studying each of them closely. I look at her expectantly, hoping that she'll tell me that they're fake Aprils Fools tests or something. That this was all just the Capitol playing some sort of sick joke on me.

No such luck.

''Katniss, you're not... you're not pregnant, are you?'' she whispers softly.

I see point in denying my pregnancy. She's read if for herself after all, in big, blue letters: positive.

So I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak.

Madge gives her head a little shake and sits down next to me ''O-Okay.'' she says carefully.

''So...'' she starts before pausing to consider what to say next ''who's the father?''

I'm about to tell her the truth, that it's Gale. But that's when it sinks in; Madge was dating Gale. Gale was dating Madge. They were a couple. I force myself not to freak out. There was a time and a place for that. I had the rest of my life as a hermit to freak out over such petty things after all.

Madge notices my hesitation and asks quietly:"Do you know who the father is?"

Before I have the time to realise what I'm saying I blurt out:''Peeta. Peeta's the father.''

I regret saying it as soon as the words have left my mouth. I briefly wonder if impulsiveness is a side-effect of being pregnant. That would explain a lot. I make a mental note to myself to look that up later.

Then, I jump up, sprint over to the toilet and vomit.

I guess it's because I'm pregnant.

But it may also be because Gale is the father.

Or because I have just told Madge that Peeta is the father.

Meaning I'll have to tell Peeta I'm pregnant with his child.

Even though I've never slept with him.

And that I'll have to tell Gale I'm knocked up. And that Peeta's the father.

Even though Gale is actually the father.

Or a combination of all the facts mentioned above.