What If

Chapter Five:

Reaping Day
Katniss

My stomach churned as I peered at my reflection the life-size mirror that hung in my bedroom. Cinna had shipped out my reaping days clothes but had remained in the capitol to prepare the rest of my clothes.

I desperately missed Cinna. Not only was his pretense calm and comforting, I wanted to tell him the one thing that had been on my mind for the past few weeks, nearly a month: the pregnancy.

It was real, no matter how much I wanted to deny it. I noticed the swelling of my abdomen, even though it was small. I could only be, what, around three or four months along? Five at most? I wasn't certain as the days were hazy.

I had decided against telling Peeta. No matter how much I wanted to, it would just end up hurting him in the end, and me along with it. I was going to be dead in a matter of days but, if I succeed, he would live many full years after my demise.

Telling my mother and Prim would just cause them pain and worry, too, so I decided against it. And if I told them, there was no doubt in my mind they'd tell Peeta.

Gale was out of the question. We hadn't spoken much recently, anyways, but he hated Peeta, or at least disliked our relationship. This would hurt him further.

I examined my reflection in the mirror. Cinna had sent a baggy jumpsuit that cinched at my waist. It was tight, of course, so I could barely breathe. I turned to the side to examine myself. My hands found my stomach, where the jumpsuit was surprisingly looser. The bump was there, of course, but it just looked like a little bit of extra fat, nothing else.

A small knock at the door caused me to drop my hands to the side and turn to see my mother. She was dressed in a nice, light blue dress that complimented her eyes. She wore a small pearl necklace along with it.

"I came to do your hair," she replied, her voice hoarse from what I assumed was crying. This made me feel guilty, but I simply nodded. She walked towards me and started to braid my hair down my back. "Prim's made you some breakfast."

I nodded again, afraid if I spoke uneven sobs would escape my mouth.

"Mom," I managed as she finished the braid. She placed a hand on my back and nodded. I turned around to face her. "I need to talk to you."

"Alright," she responded, but her voice was choked.

"I'm not coming back," I admitted, causing her to wince slightly. "I'm not. We both know that. But you can't disappear again, mom. Not again. You—you're all Prim has this time, but this time she'll need you more than ever."

She looked down, but I could tell that she was still listening.

"I've made some arrangements with Gale," I replied. "If you keep helping his family with medicine and healing, he'll bring you fresh game. Use my victor money if you must, but be cautious with it. I'm not sure how long you'll have access to it if at all after I'm gone."

There was a brief moment of silence before she spoke again. "Anything else?"

I nodded but I turned away, focusing my attention on pretending to fix the already perfect braid. "Don't watch the games."

She stood in the doorway, facing the hall. Her words were soft and warm, like they always used to be. "I'm proud of you. And I know your father is, too."