I won't be able to update for at least another week because I'm going to be in SANTA CRUZ! Haha, can't wait to hit the beach, even if it's going to be freezing. Anyways, so a week. Not that that will really seem any different

Chapter 33

Prim's pov:

I look myself over in the mirror. I know it's vain, but I like to look at myself in the mirror. I lift my loose fitted Twinkie tee and stare at my belly. I use to like looking at my abs and my perfect hour glass, which I would pride myself in, but it's been diminishing into what looks right now as pure fat as the baby grows inside.

I look at my thick, athletic legs. At least I still have those.

I take off the jammies, my Twinkie shirt and a pair of pink polka dotted cotton shorts, I'd been wearing all day and put on the dress I'd received from Josh. I can't help but notice the comfort in the extra room around my belly. He totally knows.

I pull my hair into a twist and sweep on a single layer of mascara.

I admire myself in the full-length mirror. In this dress I don't look hot or sexy. I smile as I admit to myself that I am beautiful. An elegant kind of gorgeous. I can't help but say aloud how lucky Nick is.

I bite my lip awkwardly. This is really vain and selfish. Most girls are insecure but that's never been a problem with me. Granted, I know I'm not the prettiest thing, but I know I'm pretty and that confidence is what guys tell me they like about me.

When I would pass guys who I haven't met in the mall I've heard them judge me on a scale of 1-10. My lowest score being a 6 and my highest an 8. Out of the guys that do know me, or have, I involuntarily gulp, seen my body, I've only heard silence. They gawk. I've had a couple try to tell me I'm a nine or a ten but a quick "I don't care what I look like good or bad" look tells them to shut up.

I know looks will fade but even when they do, I don't care. When I'm out in the middle of no where living with Nick and a house full of kids, what will looks matter? They won't help me take care of my kids. They won't make my husband love me anymore after we're married. They won't even help me bring food on the table, because I am not taking prostitution as my occupation. Nope, it doesn't matter if I'm pretty or not, so long as I'm happy.

I pinch my arm to distract myself from the fact that Nick and I are entering the hunger games and only one will get out alive. Another selfish moment but I hope it's me. I want, no, I need out alive. I shake my head, that's not selfish. I only say this because I can't stand the thought of my baby dieing with me in that arena. I need out because I need to get the baby out. Even if that means my love, my brother, and all my friends have to die. I need my baby to live.

I hear a knock at the door. "Yes?" I turn my attention to the guard hanging in the doorway mouth wide open. What did I say, they gawk.

I can't help but let out a little giggle as he stutters over his words, "Uh, m-miss. They r-r-request you c-come out to the car for us to t-take you somewhere."

I study his face. He wasn't one of the usual guards to escort entertainers and something about him told me he had no idea where they were taking us, "You don't know do you?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"Know what Miss?" he had recovered from his smitten state.

"You don't know where or why they're taking us."

He shrugs his shoulders innocently, "And you do?"

I nod and give an almost cruel sounding laugh, "Oh I know." I turn back to the mirror and what would have been painful memories come to me as just one long continuous black out, "I know." I say gentler.

"I know I shouldn't say this because you're a contender, but you look amazing."

I mock my own words in a teasing way, "Oh I know," I take on the same soft tone, "I know."

He laughs, "And she knows. Something that's hard to find these days."

I look at his young face. He couldn't be any older than some of the older tributes. 17? Maybe 18? He looked like a generally nice guy who hadn't yet figured out the wrong he was helping his city commit.

He sighs heavily, "So if you know where you're going tonight do you mind telling me where it is? I might be able to meet you there."

I can't help but laugh maniacally, "Trust me, you don't want to be there," I think of sick perverts who get off on watching others, "Well maybe you do, but you can't be there!"

He looks kind of offended, "Sorry I didn't know." He sighs heavily, "To tell you the truth I don't know much of anything going on around here. I'm not even entirely sure what these games are all about."

My eyes flash in a wave of shock, confusion, and even a little sympathy. I know they are now gray. "You work for a city you know nothing about? Are you kidding me or do you really not know?"

"I'm just confused to as how you do know," his voice changes to that of a harsher, but still not unkind, tone.

Despite his patience with me I feel an uncontrollable anger. He doesn't know anything the Capitol has done to me, many of my friends, and even I don't know what they've done to my family. "Because I've known since my eleventh birthday!" I hold back tears as memories, real memories, flood back to me.

He walks over and puts a comforting hand on each of my shoulders, he looks over me with a sad, curious expression, "What did they do to you?"

I'm not sure why but I tell him everything.

Any predictions on how this guard is going to play out in this story?