AGAIN?

Another oneshot. This story takes place in a Katniss world without the rebellion or Quarter Quell. This time it's the 93rd Hunger Games. Peeta and Katniss were forced to be married, although they aren't forcing their feelings for each other now. Katniss gave birth to her first son in the year of the 77th Hunger Games, and her second son in the 79th Games. Her first son was 13 when he died in the 90th Games, and her second and last son is now 14. Will Katniss and Peeta have to watch another child die in the arena?

Depressing oneshot with Katniss's child being reaped. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins. Rate and review if you would please, and tell me if I should write more depressors or try some happy oneshots/ series! Thanks for reading and I hope this capture your interest!

KATNISS POV

We walk to the square hand in hand, with me on the left side clutching Hale's left hand, and Peeta holding on to Hale's right hand. When we get closer, there are more people, but they all silently split in half, effectively creating a path for us to walk. When we three get to the square, we walk Hale over to the sign in sheet, kiss him on the top of his head and go to our seats on the stage. There are five seats this year, although Mayor Undersee seems like he needs help getting in to his. Haymitch sits in his own chair obediently, like he has done since Peeta and I became mentors. We convinced him he had to sober up at least a month before the Game's reaping, to make our tributes feel more comfortable. In the third chair sits the ever popular Effie Trinket, still looking shocked as if she can't believe she still hasn't been given a better district. Then again, the only victors she chaperoned were Peeta and me. This thought makes me remember Jarvis, our eldest son who was killed in the 90th Hunger Games, the year the arena was set in a horrifying forest, with no sunlight and traps that triggered grotesque images of tortured human beings. My Jarvis made it to the final eight, but eventually fell to the soon-to-be victor's feet. That year, I got even more new nightmares than a normal Games, both because my son died in it and the graphic nature of the arena.

This year, I'm desperately hoping Hale doesn't get picked, and if he does, he is sent to a somewhat decent arena. Anything besides the one Jarvis had to go to. Anything but that. And suddenly I'm thinking of one of the last things President Snow ever directly said to me. It was during my wedding, after the ceremony, when we were dancing in the biggest ballrooms in the Capitol. He leaned in and breathed his blood breath on me and whispered, "You might want to have two kids- you never know if one is going to be reaped." I almost fainted at the fact that I had to have children, and one of them was definitely going to be reaped. Peeta saw me stagger, and caught be before I fell. He glared at President Snow until the snakelike man cackled and hissed, "Look at this happy couple. Mrs. Mellark is so excited for her new life she just couldn't stand it." I considered then killing him with my own hands. But we were at a party, and people had begun to stare. Specifically, guards had begun to stare.

Now, I stagger again, the weight of the moment and the memory becoming too much. Peeta holds me against him, slowly whispering soothing words into my ear. We break apart only when Effie chirps, "Time to get this show started!"

We sit down in our seats, and let our faces morph into grimaces. Effie introduces all of us, and Mayor Undersee reads the Treaty of Treason. I could recite it by heart after listening to it so many times, not that I would want to. The Treaty gave us the Hunger Games, so my natural reaction is to want to tear it to shreds.

When Effie finally glides to the girls' bowl, she giggles, "Ladies first!" like she always does. What is it with the Capitol and these crazy traditions?

"Ashur Stoiz," she reads, and I scan the crowd to see who it is. I do not react when I find the unlucky girl tribute is from the poorest part of the Seam, and while being 18 years old, she looks like she's 13. I have little hope for her winning the Games, but force myself to remember to do my best. Ashur walks up to the stage and I give her a slight nod to boost her confidence. She seems to be trembling. Effie asks for volunteers, but there are no takers. I actually have seen only one volunteer in District Twelve ever since I did it for Prim.

Then Effie is moving over to the boys' reaping ball and have time to say a quick prayer begging Hale not to be chosen. Pleading. I don't want to lose another child. Please. But then, could my child be reaped again?

"Hale Mellark."

What? I think. What? Hale was reaped? How could this happen? President Snow told me to have two kids so that one would survive! Right? He meant for one to survive! I start to fall out of my chair, but Peeta catches me again.

"Katniss! Katniss! Be strong for him! You have to!" Peeta yells, but I think he's saying it more for his sake then mine. I manage to scream one phrase before I catch sight of Hale walking up the steps, looking much more brave than I did when I watched recaps of my reaping.

"Again? How could this happen again!"

END