Uh oh, I feel a series of one shots coming along. I will not be updating every day, just so you know now. But I will definitely take requests and I love the feedback that I got from just the previous chapter so I hope you all enjoy. I don't own anything.
I also don't have much time to write so I apologize for a few grammar errors every now and again. I usually only have time for one edit. :P
I feel a fluttering in my stomach and I am knocked breathless. It is now a daily reminder of my predicament. You would think that at the prime age of thirty-three that a woman wouldn't be so terrified by the thought of being pregnant. But most women haven't gone through what I have.
It's been fifteen years since Peeta came back to District 12, our one true home. Despite the disaster and constant rebuilding it will always be our home. Before and after that 74th Hunger Games it was a nightmare. Before the games, because of the poverty that surrounded me and for the abuse Peeta received from the hands of his mother. After the first games we thought we would be happier; Peeta could be away from his mother and I would never have to worry about my family going hungry, we would be safe. But when every person in town is watching your moves, when you know your voice is being recorded in your own house; safety is not a term that comes to mind.
It's almost comforting that the population is smaller now, it feels peaceful. It was still a nightmare for many residents, especially the reminders of lost families. They found it easier to live someplace else, rebuilding without the memories. I don't think Peeta and I could have a home anywhere else.
he Peeta cries in his sleep sometimes. He cries for a family he no longer knows; cries for a mother who didn't know how to love him; for a father that did and for his lost brothers. Peeta tried to rebuild the old family bakery, but it was too hard on him. Instead he turned my house into a bakery. There were too many memories for me to continue living there, I would always see my mother and Prim sitting at our kitchen table. We moved the Primrose bushes to Peeta's house instead. I won't ever forget them or stop missing them, but it was time to move on. There has been so much remodelling to the place that I could hardly recognize it from the old location. It feels fresher, newer, the way I felt after cutting off my braid and sporting my shorter haircut. It had been my way of getting rid of the Capitol, rebuilding my home had been his.
My attention is once again disturbed by the fluttering in my stomach. I hate touching my belly - not because of the tiny baby growing inside of it – but because of the scars. It makes me feel guilt for my unborn child; knowing that she is being carried in a broken body. If I could touch my stomach without running into scars I think it would be easier to love the baby. But the scars constantly put me on edge, knowing what the Capitol was once capable of, and worrying that it might happen again. The scars make me feel ugly too, like even though I got rid of my hair, I will never be able to get rid of these. It reminds me that Coin had almost become president. I take a deep breath and am forever grateful that Paylor got elected in after she temporarily replaced Coin.
Many people still wonder why I did it; why I went insane and killed the president. I remind myself that I did it so that the districts could finally live in safety, and now my unborn child can too. Even though I say these things to myself every day, I don't think I will ever truly believe it.
Peeta comes in after a hard day of working at the new bakery; I smile brightly as he comes in. He finds me in the front hallway, looking at a reflection of myself in the mirror; holding my belly. He approaches me and kisses me on the lips before whispering I love you in my ear. He quickly drops to his knees and pulls up his loose sweater which I wear. He puts both hands on my stomach before leaning in and kissing my belly. I cringe a little when his hands touch my scars, and he knows by now that it isn't from pain.
"I love you too." He whispers against it. It's our daily ritual, when he comes home from the bakery or when I come back from hunting. We agreed that when I hit month five in a few weeks that I will no longer go out. I'm not sure what I will do with my time. I can't sleep without Peeta by my side, constantly reassuring me that this is real.
My thoughts are again interrupted by the fluttering, as if I could forget that I'm pregnant. This child is constantly reminding me. I smile at the thought of her being super stubborn and constantly demanding my attention.
"Mama, mama, I want up. Mama, mama, I want a cookie. Mama, mama, where's daddy?" My eyes prick at the thought. Though this pregnancy causes worse nightmares than I've had in years, I know that ultimately it will be worth it. The way my heart already aches for her and the way Peeta eyes light up every time we talk about baby names.
We don't know for sure that it's a girl, I just have a feeling that it is. Peeta doesn't care, he's just ecstatic that we're having a baby. I tell Peeta that I hope she has his blonde hair and blue eyes because he's so beautiful, but I also wish it so that she could look like Prim. I know it's terrible, but some days I just miss her so badly that I just curl up into a ball and cry. Some days I do just that. Even fifteen years later the pain will never go away, it will always be lingering in the background. The pain accompanied by the loss of Finnick, Peeta's family, and so many others.
Peeta draws me away from my mind when he notices that I've gone rigid. He brings me back to reality, and reminds me that there is so much to still live for. Though this pregnancy has been the hardest thing I've ever done, "It will be worth it", I tell myself. It will be worth it.