A horrible, perverted nightmare forces its way into my brain. I lie tied down to a white, freezing cold table as two Capitol surgeons try to remove my baby. Blood soaks my legs, uncomfortably warm and sticky. They kill the child right before my eyes. I screech at them and kick wildly, tears streaming down my face.
"No! No, stop! Not her, not her..." She was a girl. I didn't even get to hold her. They carry away her tiny, dead body, leaving me to bleed out. A voice echoes from behind me, calling me into another terrible scene.
"Katniss..."
The dream dramatically shifts. I stumble blindly down a dimly lit street, weak and trembling. I'm somehow in Twelve, yet I can't recall where. Behind me, a single dark pitch of laughter erupts. I look over my shoulder to see Head Peacekeeper Cray grin slyly at me. I shudder.
"Thank you, Katniss. A good time, a good time," he calls after me. I stifle a sob and start running. I run and run until I collapse face first. I feel dirty, gross, and sick as I lie there, thinking of what I have just sold to him. I had to. There was no other way. No other way!
I jolt awake, screaming in terror.
"Katniss, Katniss you're awake! It's not real!" Peeta yells over my screams. I'm practically tearing his shirt to shreds, my head pressed against his chest.
"Oh God... no, no..." I mutter, taking in shattering breathes.
"Shhh it's okay," Peeta murmurs, removing the strands of wet hair stuck to my tear-stricken face. His voice soon calms me, along with his familiar scent I often times can never get enough of. I press my face against the collar of his shirt. He leans down to kiss my forehead and my cheeks. His lips then trace my neck, as we grip one another tightly.
I had a real baby... it was strange. I don't have a baby. I never want a baby. This is all just a lie. Even this. Peeta and I. We are a lie... but not here. Not right now. No, somehow these hidden moments will always ours, never the Capitol's...
I try to force away the second half of my dream, but it remains ingrained in my head. When I was younger, I would witness women, young and old, begging outside Cray's house, willing to sell themselves to survive. I used to think I could very well end up one of them. I almost did once or twice... But no, I never could force myself to commit such a thing.
But am I that desperate now? How else will I be able to get into the electrical building? No. There has to be another way.I close my eyes, hearing the steady breathing of Peeta.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He whispers. I shake my head.
"No... it's over now."
"Okay," he strokes my hair. I glance up at him. His beautiful blue eyes stare intently at me.
"We have to get out of here," I tell him, my voice shaky. I instantly realize that more than anything, I don't want Peeta to be hurt any longer. The way he looks at me-so filled with love yet so distraught. This game we play, it's killing him inside. When we escape into the woods, we won't have to pretend any longer. Maybe if I have time to think about it... he and I could be what he always wanted... just maybe.
In that moment, his hands gently slip around my jaw. Our lips meet in a smooth union, his teeth gently biting my upper lip. I don't know why, but for a few seconds I allow it to continue, sensing a strange, beautiful buzz of electricity run through my veins. But I pull away.
"No, Peeta. Don't do this..." I breathe, his lips centimeters from mine. I can't give him all of the love he deserves. It wouldn't be fair. Peeta leans back.
"I'm sorry. You're right," he apologizes. I avoid his gaze.
"You don't deserve to have me kiss you with not the same... feelings for you as you have for me right now," I try to explain.
"You don't love me. I know, Katniss," his voice sends an intense pain through me. Although he speaks the words without emotion, I can physically feel the sad longing.
"I don't know..." I begin. Because I really don't. Part of me desperately wants to. It's a new feeling I have had lately...
"Well, that's better than a firm no," Peeta replies with a slight smile. "I have no problem kissing you if it's a maybe. It might help me convince you," he laughs quietly. I smile.
"Well, you can kiss me as much as you like when we play star-crossed lovers."
"You know as well as I that it's not the same," Peeta shakes his head. I don't know how to reply.
"Let's go back to sleep," I say quietly, sinking into his arms.
When we awake, it's late morning. I remember it's Sunday, my day with Gale. Whether he believes I am lying about my pregnancy or not, I have a feeling he will be angry. Will he really think I slept with Peeta? Out of love or just to get pregnant for the Capitol? If he is really my best friend, he should be less upset if it's the first. If I did it out of happiness, that would be much better than sleeping with Peeta because I am a slave to the Capitol and President Snow.
But I did lie for them. Am I a slave in that regard?I slide out of bed and head to the bathroom to get dressed. Most of my things have been moved to Peeta's house now. Except my designer Capitol clothes, which are still tucked away in my closet in my Victor's House because they were too heavy to drag over here.
It's sort of sad not living with my mother and Prim anymore. I've tucked Prim in every night since she was practically a baby. I have to remember she's thirteen now, and I need to start treating her like a teenager.
I pull on my clothes and head downstairs, where Peeta is already preparing breakfast. We eat quietly, and I can't tell what he's thinking about as we swallow our eggs. I hope he forgets last night all together and doesn't try to kiss me again when we are not on-camera. I don't want to hurt him more than I already have.
Besides, when will he finally start believing I'm not girlfriend material or even wife material? I suck at relationships. My friendship with Gale may soon be in the gutter and I'm barely on good terms with my mother over this "victor baby."
"You wanna go get some things from the bakery with me? On the way we could check out the electrical building," Peeta softly speaks up. I sigh.
"Yeah, might as well."
The snow is steadily melting today as we trudge along the path to the Merchant's Village. Peeta and I try to hold hands and smile when people pass us by. Nobody is stupid enough congratulate us in Twelve. Anyone who has any sort of fear for the Reaping understands that our unborn child will certainly have a place in the games. It will be the talk of the century.
I try to trail behind Peeta once we reach the bakery, for I can already predict his family's reaction when I suddenly show up at their doorstep. Peeta glances over his shoulder at me, his blond curls brushing over his forehead from the small breeze.
"It'll be fine. My dad likes you, anyway," he reaches out and clasps my hand tight. We enter through the back door, weaving our way through an entryway piled high with supplies. Stacks of flour, various containers of sugar and spices, and baking instruments tower over us.
"Hey dad, I'm here to pick up my supplies. I brought Katniss with me," he calls as we step out into the main kitchen.
"You had to announce me?" I mutter.
"What? I said he likes you, Katniss," Peeta chuckles.
Yes, but your mom does not. I think.
A large man about Peeta's height trudges down the stairs to our right. His square face and kind brown eyes grin at the both of us. With a large hand, he shakes mine.
"Hello, good to see you again," he greets me quietly. I've always known him to be soft-spoken when I delivered his squirrels.
"Yes, you too," I return the smile. He looks from me to Peeta, as if he doesn't know what else to say. He clears his throat.
"Peeta, your supplies is on the top shelf of the pantry. I best be off to bake the afternoon goods," his father says, quickly making his way to the smaller sized kitchen around the corner.
"See, he's quiet and sometimes awkward, like you," Peeta says nonchalantly. I punch him in the arm while he laughs at me.
"You know I'm messing with you," he calls as he heads down the hall to the pantry, while I take a look around the main kitchen. In front of the cabinets is a large, rectangular counter with a register. I lean on the counter, observing the beautiful, tasty treats in the window across from me. I smile, remembering the afternoons when Prim and I used to stare longingly at the cakes, practically drooling.
I jump when the door clangs open, the tiny bell ringing above it. A slender, taller woman with ice blue eyes and dark hair pulled tightly into a bun steps inside. Her face is sunken, with harsh lines etched along her forehead and cheeks. Maybe at one point she was pretty, but it's difficult to tell now. Two young men follow behind her, their features very similar to Peeta's.
"What are you doing here?" the woman asks me sharply. It's Mrs. Mellark. I swallow.
"I'm here with Peeta," I reply. She purses her lips and makes her way around the counter. Without acknowledging me further, she walks past me and down the hall.
"Hey Katniss, how are you doing?" One of Peeta's brothers asks me in a friendly tone. I recognize him as the middle Mellark boy, Rye.
"Fine," I say. I'm not sure how to respond to these two. I've hardly ever spoken to either of them.
"Rye, let's help mom in the back," the older, taller brother nudges him. He turns and nods politely at me before following his mom down the hall. Rye gives me a wave and follows him.
Folding my arms, I lean my back against the counter. If only Peeta would hurry up. I don't want to have any more painful interactions with his family. Of course they'd act uncomfortable around me. I'm supposedly pregnant with Peeta's kid-it's weird. Well, to be fair, they've never liked me anyhow. I'm surprised his mother didn't scream at me for seducing her son and throw me out of the shop.
Peeta soon returns, thank God. Except his brother comes too. Rye holds one of Peeta's boxes filled with baking ingredients.
"Hey, ready to go?" I try to ask casually.
"Yes, sorry for making you wait," Peeta apologizes. Rye hands him the box.
"Hey, by the way, congrats you two. I'm sure it wasn't planned-" he laughs, "But we all screw up sometimes, don't we," he winks at Peeta. Peeta glares at him.
"Would you shut the hell up and go help dad with the bread?"
This only makes Rye laugh harder. I really hope my face isn't bright red, because it suddenly feels hot. Rye finally leaves.
Peeta shakes his head, but the hint of a smile traces his face.
"He's always embarrassing me in front of people. What he doesn't know is that we're the ones who should be laughing," he looks at me. I grin at him, my face cooling down.
"Yeah, you're right."
"Let's go." Peeta grips the two crates. I open the back door and we leave the bakery.
"Peeta, are you close with your brothers?" I ask him as we walk down the street. I can't help but wonder about the dynamic in his family. His mother, no doubt, seems horrible, but it's hard to tell with the others.
Peeta hesitates.
"...We get along well enough. I'm closer to Rye than my older brother, Graham," he answers.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," I respond quickly.
"No, it's okay. I guess it's just complicated. We always played together as kids and they like to tease me, but we aren't like you and Prim. The thought of volunteering for the games, even for a family member, is not in their mindset," Peeta explains.
"But it would've been in your mindset," I say quietly. Peeta doesn't reply, but somehow I know if Rye was picked, Peeta would have volunteered.