PLEASE READ! Hello. Thank you checking out my first HG fic! I want to start off by saying that this is going to be a very long story and updates are going to be slow because I am a perfectionist as well as a behavioral science (criminology) major and hotel housekeeper. I go 7 days a week and rarely get any rest. HOWEVER, I am an extremely passionate writer.

Point blank: this story is probably going to make you feel uncomfortable at times. I basically put Katniss through hell :\ if you have a weak stomach or are sensitive to topics such as rape, murder, suicide, and/or lost children then you might find this difficult to read. By the way, FULL DISCLAIMER: I have nothing to do with the creation of the Hunger Games universe, I own nothing, I'm a fangirl. That is all. Back to the story, the first chapter starts out with a graphic scene. If you can't handle blood, pain, and basically torture, you should stop reading and find a happier fic right now. If you do enjoy angst, torment, and a little love story to go with it, then maybe you could add this to your list of follows. I will say this: I love Katniss, I would never give her more than she could handle. And I'm a strong believer in happy endings. I started writing this years ago, I wanted to wait for Part 2 to come out before I posted the first chapter. Okay, I've talked too much. Go read now my little rebels. XO THANK YOU XO

A slow parade of wind

That blows through threes

That wilted with the season's children

Are we saved by the words of bastard saints?

Do we live in fear or faith?

Tell me now who's behind the rain

-Skid Row

My eyelids squeeze shut, tear trails follow on each side.

My mother strokes my cheek in gentle efforts to calm me but it's no use, I have absolutely no strength to care anymore. I twist and turn violently in my bed, my violent screams echo so loudly the whole District must think I'm being brutally murdered. God, I might as well be.

My long hair is a tangled mess around my shoulders; curly strands of my bangs plaster to my forehead.

The sheets of the bed are flooded with the sweat that erupts from my skin. The night gown I wear is completely soaked through and through. It is early in the morning.

I rest for a grateful bit. The moments in between these contractions are so short, they seem to not ever stop now. It started two days ago; at this point I am exhausted and hopeless. We've tried everything to progress this horrible delivery. I've walked around, got on my hands and knees, squatted, tried every possible position but this child won't come.

Now I've been on my back pushing for several hours and my mother claims that she can finally begin to see the head. It's hard for me to believe her, however. I'm going to die, I just know it. This is going to kill me and then there will be no one left to protect Prim. At this I sob a little harder, a little louder.

"It's almost over," she says soothingly. But that's what she said yesterday. And the hell that's blazing in between my legs doesn't convince me just yet. When I can look down and see it coming out for myself, then maybe I'll entertain the idea.

I've begged for her to cut it out a hundred times already, but there's no way that either of us would survive, she insists. We would need a hospital, and lots of doctors around. At this point I'm willing to take the risk. I just want the pain to end.

My body isn't ready for this, I'm too small, the child's too big. I can't imagine anything more painful. I can't imagine any woman doing this willingly.

She leans forward and brushes my hair back in strokes while I sob and gasp for air.

I look into her tired blue eyes with almost nothing left in me, "Kill me, kill me right now!" I plead. But she just takes the damp cloth and wipes more sweat from my face.

I throw my arm behind me to grip the railings of the thin metal bedpost. My fingers wrap around the bars tightly, the coolness of the frame distracts me for a split second.

Even though it scares me to death I push when the urge comes, I can't help it. And though the pressure shifts when I do so, it doesn't stop the fire from burning my insides right up. I can feel the shape of the baby's head, and my body is not going to let the head slide back in.

My mother rubs my legs and tells me to push. "I've been pushing," I want to say, but I can't manage to release anything other than a long, beast-like groan.

"Breathe, Katniss," she says softly. I gasp and stare at the wall, I've never felt this alone before. I am so nervous as I try to prepare for the next contraction to rip me even wider and get the head completely out. Nothing could prepare me for the next contraction however, it is unlike any pain I've ever felt and just when I think I can't scream any louder, I do.

"Push hard! Now!" she yells at me and I push as hard as I can. My scream suddenly stops the second I feel an immediate relief.

"Breathe Katniss, the head's out," she informs me. There's a burning heaviness pulling me down. I think she's holding the head in her own hands. I try to catch my breath in sobs and I stare at the wall again. Then I squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them I can see Prim hiding behind the door.

I try to smile at her, but it turns into more of a grimace and she quickly disappears. Then it starts up again, the tumultuous waves that pull my cervix wider and wider apart. I lean up as much as I can, I can't take the fire anymore.

"Get it out!" I scream at her. Her hands are wrapped around the neck and I feel her tugging.

The contraction suddenly explodes and I throw my head back as it tears out of me. I scream at the top of my lungs, as I can feel my mother pulling it as hard as she can. I look down quick enough to watch it come ripping out. Blood and fluids of all colors come with it.

My body collapses back to the bed as I gasp for air, words cannot describe the amount of relief I feel.

Then I look down and I see the bloody, gooey body.

It starts crying.

It's squirming in her arms. She wipes the blood from its face and I catch a glimpse of it.

As daunting as it is, I feel a warmth in the air. The whimpering of a baby soothes the room. No more screaming, no more pain. I take several breaths to calm myself down. The little child. What I've been so afraid of this whole time, its cries are music to my ears. I'm thankful that it's okay. I'm thankful that we both made it.

Because for a while there I honestly didn't know if we would.

My sobs continue as I watch her retrieve a string and scissors from the table of supplies. She ties it around the cord and cuts it carefully. She looks up at me and smiles before placing it in my arms. I hold it and am mesmerized by this puffy, pink face. Angelic.

"A girl," she whispers as we both sit there and cry. I can barely breathe. It's all over and she is beautiful. Radiant. It's hard to believe that this baby was inside of me just minutes ago. And now she's here, in my arms. This is a moment that I will never forget, not for one second.

We've only just met, and yet I can't begin to fathom how much I love her. She has dark hair like me. I kiss her. All I can think about is how happy I am in this moment. For the first time in years I can feel something. Something real and pure. I feel as if everything that has happened until now doesn't matter. I don't care who her father is; she is mine. I will protect her.

My life is going to change with her in it now. I'm going to take her hunting, that's for sure. And she's going to sleep on my chest every night. My strong girl, she'll be fearless.

Pieces of the future flash like photographs through my mind.

She will be smart. She'll know how to read before any other kid in her class when she starts school because I'm going to teach her. She won't struggle with numbers like everyone else will. She'll be a leader. She'll stand up for what is right. I just want her to feel my love. She is my baby.

And I will do the best that I can. I am young, and I don't know everything, but I will do my very best to be a good mother. I will protect her. I will do anything to protect her. I will give my life in a heartbeat to protect her. And I can't wait until we are alone together, and I can promise her this when my mother's not around.

It now occurs to me that what I've been telling myself this whole time is true. It was all worth it. All of the pain and hurting that I went through was worth it. She is worth everything. And I would spend another thousand hours in labor again.

But my thoughts are interrupted when the door flies open. The loud shock makes me jump and she stirs around. I look up from her beautiful eyes to see my stepfather, very sternly, walking towards us from the door way. He's holding out his arms.

"It's time to say good-bye," he says.

His words don't register. I blink.

Good-bye? To who?

I look toward my mom for an answer; she now looks at me strange. Like she knows something that I do not. The look on her face makes my stomach turn.

She turns to my stepfather, "She's been through hell, surely five more minutes won't hurt?"

"Now," he says without hesitation and continues to reach out for what I now understand, my baby.

His hands, they remind me of a beast, because that's what he is. An animal, with razor sharp claws ready to harm my newborn daughter. I will die before I let him touch her. And so I pull her into my chest.

"What?" I ask both of them loudly, my voice breaking.

"Don't make it any more difficult than it needs to be, Katniss," he tells me.

I begin to tremble and I choke, "Mom? What are you talking about?" She pathetically nods with a tear sliding down her cheek. Surely this isn't what I think it is. Surely they're not actually going to try to take her away from me.

My mother sighs, "Katniss it's going to be okay, just give it to Huck."

"Her name is Meadow. I'm not giving her to anyone."

I hold my daughter tight and shake my head. Out of instinct I try to get up and get away from them, but I can't. My body has been literally torn apart. Pieces of flesh are hanging from in between my legs and I can't fight them both as they rip her from me.

"You can't have her! No! No!" I try to slap them away, and I scream for them to stop and let go of her, but it's no use. My own mother holds me down, and I can only hear my baby crying as Huck runs out of the room with her.

"Please! Please, Huck! I'm begging you! Meadow!" I shout from my bed. My eyes squeeze tight, I can't breathe, I can't breathe.

"I'm begging you! Meadow! Meadow!" I shout with everything I have in me left.

My desperate eyes flash open; I know they are bloodshot as I look into the sorry face of the woman who's betrayed me over and over again.

I don't understand, I scream into her face, "How can you do this to me?!"

She shakes her head slowly and tries to hug me but I push her away. With the little muscle I have left.

I break down into sobs again as I hear the door slam. I don't know where he's taking my baby.

"How can you do this to me?!" I wail again, I grip the sheets of the bed and toss around fiercely.

"You're too young to be a mother, Katniss," she tries to explain but I shake my head in wrath.

"You have no right to take her, she's mine!" I protest. But it's no use. She's gone. The little girl I got to hold for a second. My daughter.

"She was crying…babies cry when they're hungry. I have to go get her…she needs my milk…" My words are so masked with tears it's hard to understand.

"Katniss, don't think about it. It's just going to make it harder for yourself." She doesn't get it. How can she not get it? She's had two babies. Two girls. How can she not get it?

Meadow is gone. The light, it has been put out, but then I realize I was never out of the darkness.

My daughter. I give up fighting. I give up trying to object. I give up trying to make any sense of this, any reason at all. I have nothing left. I am nothing right now.

My mother says a few more words to me but I can't hear her. I can't process anything, it's all the same. It's all fuzzy. I notice her hand stroking my cheek but I feel nothing. I stare past her, looking at the wall. The pain has returned and this emotional pain is even worse than childbirth itself. My mouth hangs open and my eyes squint. I am dead.

They killed me.

I'm nothing but a piece of flesh. My organs function but my soul is gone.

"Prim," I barely hear her say as she stands up.

My mother leaves the room and soon enough Prim appears beside me. But I can't do it. I can't be strong for her this time. Her frightened face; she takes my hand. She rubs my arm and gets my mother when it's time to deliver the afterbirth.

Prim stays by my side and my mother tells me to push one more time. I am not sure if it hurts worse because of the physical pain, or because my baby's been stolen right out of my own arms. Actually, the pain is all the same. I can't tell what is what.

And I can't even scream again, I have no voice left, no energy. I just lay there, holding Prim's hand as the placenta comes out. My mother gets rid of it and comes back with a needle and string.

"I didn't realize how badly you tore…you're going to need stitches. Many."

I don't look at her. The blank expression on my face doesn't change. I don't care what she does. What does she want? My permission? I've been violated a million times. What's one more?

"Prim…" our mother says grimly with her hands between my legs, ready to pierce my skin. It is a warning.

She shakes her head strongly, "I'm not leaving Katniss."

I slowly turn towards her; she is too young to take care of me. She looks at me, and though I can't speak she knows that I will be okay. But she shakes her head again.

"I'm not leaving you."

I squeeze her hand and close my eyes, waiting for the first stick.

"Take a deep breath," she says and I lie still. The needle penetrates me but I don't feel it. I am trying to piece together what has happened. In quick flashes I relive it. Pain.

Hours of agony.

Suicide. I wanted to die. I wanted to cut my own throat.

Baby.

She came out. Bloody and screaming but perfect.

She was perfect.

Meadow.

Gone.

They held me down. Huck ripped her from me.

They held me down. They stole my baby.

I screamed for her. I screamed her name.

She helped him. I will kill her.

My baby is gone.

Meadow.

Meadow.

My baby is gone.

My daughter is gone.

Where is a knife so I can cut my throat?

Meadow.

Let me die.

I open my eyes and see Prim still next to me. My sweet girl.

"I love you," she quietly tells me.

I blink.

Then I look down at my mother. She is still working but looks up and stops. She knows that I will never forgive her. Then she goes back to suturing my raw flesh.

I begin to feel the needle sticking but it is over a minute later.

My mother stands up and I don't fight her when she lays a thick cloth under me.

"You're going to bleed a lot, it's normal but don't get out of bed. If you need to go to the bathroom, I'll help you."

"Don't touch me," I say. She stares at me for a moment and then disappears.

Once she's gone Prim brings me some water but I turn away. She stands there quiet for a moment.

"What was it?" she asks innocently. I don't answer her. I roll over to face the window. I'm sorry, Prim. Then I feel her get into bed with me. There's not much room and the sheets are still soaked with my bodily fluids but I guess she doesn't mind. I'm thankful that I'm not alone.

"Little duck," my raspy voice croaks, "love you."

She rubs my back with one hand. And then I start to cry again.

Then she sings to me and I fall asleep. I haven't slept in days.

I am fifteen years old. My mother's husband rapes me. He has for almost a year. And I just had a baby. Had. She's gone.

Sorry, sad beginning. It gets better, but not for a while...but I swear it does get better. Hopefully I haven't scared all of you away. If I get enough reviews I'll post the next chapter sooner rather than later. THANK YOU XO