A/N

Got over my writers block. Yay! And please don't hate me for this chapter! Trust me, everything is going to be okay! :)
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My eyes open to the brilliant light of the sun. It immediately blinds me, a veil of white overshadowing my vision. I hiss and cover my eyes involuntarily. Then, I feel a cold hand caress my arm and I frantically glance to see who it is. My mother. She stands there with worry scribbled all over her face. She is a woman of complete stress and fatigue right now.

"Mom?" I choke out with concern for her. She leans forward and places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Yes baby?" she replies. I don't say anything back. I scan the room, realizing how many people there are gathered around me with the same worry written on their faces. And that's when I know something's wrong.

I scan the group a few times and eventually notice that one person is missing. Gale. I whip my head back toward my mom and ask her five million questions at once.

"What happened? What's wrong? Why is everyone here? Where's Ga-"

Before I can continue, she lightly places her hand on my shoulder.

"You fell Katniss. You fell from a tree," she whispers, breaking more and more with every word.

"And?" I ask, unalarmed. My mother draws in a deep breath.

"You fell on your stomach Katniss," she adds. And that's when I remember. I'm pregnant.

My hands fly to my stomach just as tears begin to spill.

"No . . . no . . . no! Mom, where's Gale?" I ask, since he's the only one I know can truly console me.

"We don't know sweetheart. I suppose he's still at work, but usually he'd be home by now. I mean . . . maybe he's in the woods," a different voice says, stepping forward from the group. Haymitch. I guess he saw that my mother was beginning to fall apart by telling me this and he needed to step in. My breathing suddenly seems to grow rapid as I struggle to catch my breath.

"Haymitch . . ." I think about my question for a moment. Well, it's more like delaying what I'm about to ask because I'm scared to even ask it.

"Did I-"

"Yes," he says quickly, "you had a miscarriage sweetheart."

Then, I completely breakdown. I never realized the bond I'd grown with my children while they've been in the womb. Now, I do. And why does it have to be in such a tough way that I realize this love I have for them and how exciting it really is to be having babies? I don't know. But it kills me from the inside, hurting worse than the terrible aching pain of my body which is mainly my stomach. I lift my shirt to see stitches around my stomach's corridor. She must've taken my children out of my stomach while I was unconscious. It somewhat hurts, but I don't care. What hurts worse at the moment is the fact that I'm the cause of more lives. Because if I never left the house, if I never entered the woods, and if I never climbed that tree. Then everything would be just fine.

"Katniss," I hear a different voice say. That's when my mouth exhales all the vexation currently ruling over my body.

I throw my hands away from my face forcefully and ball them into fists.

"Get out! Get out please! I just wanna be alone!" I sob. As I begin to cry harder my voice lowers and in a voice barely audible I repeat, "Just let me be alone."

I then throw a pillow over my face. For a while I just want to disappear. Why do I keep losing things and people? Why can't I keep anything? Why? When I hear the door close, I glance up to make sure everyone is out. For a while I just lay there, sobbing, and screaming, and refusing to believe this is all real. This goes on for twenty minutes until I throw the blanket completely over my face, curling up in a small, tight ball for half an hour. Maybe if I close my eyes awhile and then open them this will all just be some twisted nightmare. However when I do this, I'm still in the same position. Either I'm still in the nightmare, or I'm facing reality. And I think the answer is unfortunately the latter.

For an hour, I don't move. I even start to worry that I've gone into a coma. I realize at this moment that I'm as good as dead. A knock on the door is what brings me back to life. I jump, startled, and then mumble a scratchy throated,

"Come in."

I hear the door's slight creak as it opens and then the heavy footsteps that indicate it's Peeta. He seems to be getting closer, and I wish suddenly that I could somehow disappear into the bed or something. I then feel the blankets move and he rolls them down, revealing my face.

"Hey Katniss," he says empathetically. "How you hanging in there?"

I simply shrug and he sits on the side of the bed.

"I'm sure this can't be easy. In fact, I know it can't." He inhales a scratchy breath. "I lost my whole family, remember?"

I nod, feeling as if I'll completely shatter into tears if I speak.

"You wanna know-"

I cut him off by placing my finger over his lips. I then outstretch my arms, needing nothing more than a hug. He leans down and envelopes me in his arms. My arms wrap back around him. That's when the sobbing begins again. I cry and cry and cry into his shoulder. And then, words tumble out of my mouth.

"Gale wanted kids so much, Peeta! And I was starting to want them too! I let us down. Both of us and my kids! We could've been happy right now and even happier in just a couple of months, but I . . . I- I killed them!"

"No Katniss it wasn't your fault. I mean if anything it was mine," he says to me. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have chased you into those woods, it was my fault!"

"No it wasn't Peeta, don't say that," I tell him. We sit on the bed for a good amount of time, entangled in each other's arms. I pull back from the hug and see that he's crying as well. I'm not even sure exactly why. Maybe because I'm crying or maybe because he truly feels like he killed my kids.

"I'm gonna go, maybe we should talk more later. You know . . . when we can actually pull ourselves together," he mumbles. He gives me a friendly kiss on the forehead and then walks out, closing my door. Moments later, I hear the door downstairs shut as well.

After sitting for a few more moments, just trying to fully process that conversation, I stand up, knowing what I want to do. Standing hurts, badly, but I'm sure I can push through it. Beside me, on a table is water and a bottle of medicine which it seems my mother had waiting for me. Two pills rest beside the bottle and so after reading that they are pills for pain, I take them with the water.

When I cross the room slowly, careful not to rouse a lot of pain, I gently open the door, being cautious that it doesn't creak before I walk out and to the top of the steps. Downstairs, I hear my mother talking to someone who's voice sounds familiar. I could care less what they're saying, I just mindlessly walk down the steps on two trembling legs. As I get closer to the living room I see it's Hazel.

"Hey honey," she says sympathetically. "Everyone left now, but I decided to wait for you to turn up."

"Where's Gale?" I ask, completely ignoring her. She sighs.

"We still don't know. Haven't heard from him yet. He's probably in the woods. That's always where he usually goes when he's having problems."

I bite my lip and then stomp over to the door. I grab my coat and quickly pull the sleeves over my arms, telling my mom I'm going out. When she tries to question me further, I don't say a word. She warns me not to go, but I'm persistent on what I'm gonna do.

"I'll be fine. Pain isn't a new obstacle for me," I reassure her as I'm slipping on my boots. Then, I open the door and walk out without either of us saying another word.

Outside, the clouds are dark and heavy, indicating a storm in the near future, but I don't care. I need Gale so much and at the same time I feel so angry at him for leaving me at a time like this. How could he just runaway like he has? This isn't only hard on him. It's hard on me too. And, I was the one who took the fall. For a second I think that maybe I'm just being selfish, but I then disregard the thought. Gale is wrong not me. Can't he see that he's only making this situation harder? Now, not only am I upset about my miscarriage, but angry at him. I have to waste my time searching for Gale when I should probably be resting after that hard fall.

As soon as I step on the grass, I know exactly where to go first. My feet start at a slow pace, but as I get used to the pain and the medicine kicks in, I pick up to a faster speed in the direction of the woods. I feel a lot lighter without children in my stomach. However, without the heaviness I feel depressed. I miss it. I miss the feeling of their movements already. And I wish I could take my actions all back.

I reach the fence fast surprisingly, but I'm more out of breath than usual. I'm not as skinny as I used to be. I'm definitely not chubby though, but not all bone either. I'm probably at normal weight for my size now. Yet, I'm still a lot closer to the underweight side than the overweight side. However, it is weird to have about ten or fifteen more pounds on me than I had and it's something I'll definitely struggle getting used to.

I don't see Gale anywhere in the meadow. I literally run in circles trying to find him. I don't lose hope yet though. If Gale wanted a bit of privacy instead of getting caught in pictures by the paparazzi, he would've went in the woods. So, I run as fast as my feet will carry me to our spot in the woods. I'm ready to go and confront him angrily for leaving me. But since I know we'll make up quickly, I'm more ready to have him hold me while I cry in his arms. But when I get to our spot, he's nowhere to be found. I sit on a log, frustrated and lay on my side against it. After awhile of trying to think where he could be, I begin to doze off. I have to keep moving.

Everywhere else he'd be in the woods is completely empty. After a whole half hour searching I get beyond frustrated. Then, tears that seem as old as life itself roll down my face as my exasperation deteriorates me.

"Where is he?" I whisper helplessly. "I just want him, I need him," I say to myself.

I begin to call his name the entire walk out of the woods and out of the meadow. As the sky darkens and streetlights come on, rain begins to pour. It starts softly, but just like how my tears usually are, the rain picks up and falls at a speed so fast that I can barely see what's in front of me. Throwing my hoodie over my head, I start in the direction of my house. Then, I decide to visit Haymitch first to see if he knows where Gale is at.

The pain in my stomach begins to hurt worse as I run, but eventually, I'm crossing Haymitch's yard. I walk up to the front door of his grand house and knock desperately. My knock was so demanding that it probably sounded like a peacekeeper's in the past when they would come to take a person in they're custody for a crime committed. I didn't care though. I was so needy by now that I'm not sure if I would even be mad at Gale whenever I find him. I just want to leap in his arms and stay there forever when I find him so he can tell me everything's okay even though I know it's not. However, that thought completely slips from my mind when a drunken Haymitch opens the door and I see the scene behind him.

Behind all the clutter in Haymitch's house, Gale sits at the table. He looks like Haymitch does and always looks right now. So drunk and out of it. On the table rests countless beer bottles. I can tell he's in a whole other world. Gale's eyes are bloodshot and when he spots me, he stands up with his drunken eyes widened. With a half empty beer bottle in hand, Gale runs toward me in the complete opposite of a straight line. He throws his arms around me and I feel most of the beer in his hand spill down my back.

"Katniss!" he says in an unnecessarily loud voice. When he talks, I can smell the alcohol which almost makes me puke.

I step away and stand in shock for a moment before anger catches up to me. I forcefully knock the beer bottle out of his hand and watch it slam against the wall as the glass breaks, adding to the mess on the floor.

"Whyyyy are you ssssoo mad?" he asks, his words slurred together. I'm about to speak, but I'm interrupted when he pukes all over my boots. He looks up at me and begins to apologize, but passes out before finishing the word. All I can think the entire time is,

Could this day have been any worse?