The Mentors

Chapter Seven

Lilac Parrish (D6)

Dr. Hudson comes back into the room, a thick folder in his hands. I roll my eyes at the thought of it being my medical records. Of course it would be huge. I had extensive surgery after winning my Games. I was very, very close to death.

"Maybe you should sit down," the doctor says and the terror than envelops me is mind-numbing as I do as instructed. I need Valor. Why isn't he here, with me? I chastise myself through the fright. He has plans, Lilac. You're a big girl, do you really need Valor to hold your hand? "As you well know, you received injuries in your Hunger Games, as tributes usually do. The most noticeable of which is from the swipe of the District Seven's boy axe, the one that the Capitol surgeons couldn't keep from scarring. . ."

I remembered that moment in the Games. There are some moments in life when you just know you're screwed. That's what I felt in that moment as the excruciating pain bubbled up. I knew I was going to die. I had come so far and I was going to fucking die.

"Lilac, honey?" the doctor asked, "Do you understand what I'm telling you..?"

"I don't . . ." I pause, trying to collect my bearings. "What did you just say?"

The doctor pauses. "The injury has effected your . . . reproductive system."

"What do you mean?" I ask him wearily.

"Lilac, the swipe of that axe damaged your uterus. The possibility of you being able to conceive a child is . . . next to zero."

"What . . .?" I shake my head in disbelief. "What are you saying?"

"You're infertile, Lilac," Dr. Hudson tells me, patting my hand. "I'm so sorry."


Valor tells me that being pregnant isn't fun anyway, that I'm not missing out on anything. But I know better. I've seen so many women with their pregnant glow. I despise their happiness, their glow, their fertility.

Infertile.

The word is horrible, a death sentence on me producing a life. I despise it. But what I hate more is that I can never give Valor children. He should be a father, but he can't because he's in love with me.

He shouldn't be. Dear Panem, he shouldn't love me. It was hard enough to forgive myself for being broken after the Games, for giving him a broken woman, but this. This is too much for me to deprive him of.

Valor shrugs awake. I smile warmly at him, but my mind has a constant, depressing background noise. Children, children, babies, babies. Can't let him do this, can't let him not have children.

Valor has a crinkle between his eyebrows, telling me that he's thinking hard about the current situation. He can tell that my mind has taken me to my dark place and pulls me into his arms. We lay there, trying to give each other strength. Trying to pull our lives back together from the mess that it's been. But we can't.

He leans back so he can look at me. "Lilac, I want to marry you."

The ever present lump in my throat somehow grows larger, "I can't, you know that. I'm broken; physically and mentally. I can't do that to you, you deserve more. You don't deserve to be stuck with me for the rest of your life."

He grimaces, but kisses me. I can see the grief in his eyes. "Even if you don't marry me, I'll be with you for the rest of my life. I love you, Lilac, I couldn't possibly want anyone else. I want you forever, broken or not."

I glare at him, though it doesn't have anger behind it, just frustration. "Don't say that."

He caresses my cheek. "I'm only trying to tell you the truth. This is what I want. I don't care if you have nightmares, I don't care if you can't have children. I need you. I need you and I'm not going to give you up, however hard you try to make me."

"Valor, don't say those things. I don't want to take your happiness away because I'm being selfish."

"Just us being together . . . it makes me the happiest man on earth, Lilac. With a baby, or without one, I'll always be happy with you."

I close my eyes, fighting back the tears that are sure to come. I don't want him to suffer through a life of disappointment with me, even knowing it will destroy me if he ever does take my advice. Valor is one of the last things I have left. Things that make me, me.

"We need to go." I sigh. "If we don't start getting ready now, we won't make it to the reaping on time."

He sighs. "I'll go make breakfast, you should get dressed."

I stare blankly at the door after he leaves. What can I do to make him see he can do so much better than me? I climb out of bed and trip, making my ribs throb.

"Damn it to hell." I pull myself off the floor and make it to the dresser in one piece, thank Panem.

I pick the light pink dress that makes my eyes look more golden-brown than the usual muddy color. This is my favorite dress and Valor's favorite on me. I laugh when I look in the mirror as memories of much happier times flood through my mind. Times when my nightmares were the greatest threat, not my infertility.

"Lilac? Breakfast is ready!" Valor's voice floats up to me from downstairs. As I walk down the stairs, his eyes get a little bit brighter.

He pulls me into an embrace and trails kisses down my neck. I disengage myself from him with a small giggle and he kisses me once more before we turn to our meal. We sit and eat together, reveling in just being happy, if only for the moment.

He cleans the dishes after we are done eating. I go upstairs to pick out his clothes, at his request. I don't do that usually, I'm not crazy. Valor comes in and slips his clothes on. I kiss him and he takes my hand as we go downstairs, out the door, and to the reaping.

"You haven't seen your family, in what? Three weeks?" he says as we approach the square. "Maybe you should try to talk to them today."

"When I get back," I promise. "I just . . . can't right now, okay?"

Valor looks down at me with an infinitely sad expression. My face probably reflects his, with maybe a bit more hopelessness. He kisses my the top of my head and I hug him before going to sit with District Six's other Victor, Maigh Lee Simpon.

She turns to me with a concerned expression. "How are you holding up?" It's only been three weeks since Dr. Hudson told me that I couldn't have children. I'm still adjusting to it and everyone else is, too.

"As good as to be expected," I say stiffly.

"I could go to the Capitol instead," she whispers.

"No, I'm going."

"Well . . . okay, if that's what you want."

The mayor comes up to the stage to give his speech. I don't even register that he's talking. I'm staring through the crowd, searching for Valor's face in the sea of unrecognizable ones. I find him and lock gazes with him as the mayor calls up the escort.

The escort, her name is Cynthia, gets right down to business and pulls the girl's name out. "Maeve Faulkner!" The girl is only fifteen.

"Pierce Meadows," she calls out next. The boy is younger than Maeve, at thirteen. My heart aches for them, they don't have a chance. The reaping is finally over and I don't go to anyone. I simply walk to the train.

I can't deal with another goodbye.