DISCLAIMER: I do not own the 'The Hunger Games' trilogy. The books completely belong to Suzanne Collins.
The Little Mockingjay
Hope Mellark thought she was safe. She didn't think she'd ever be reaped. But on the reaping for the 90th Hunger Games her name is called. The little Mockingjay was born in the arena and now there's a big chance she'll die there, too.
Chapter One- Katniss
I lean against the doorframe, watching my baby sleep. As much as I hate to admit it she's not my baby anymore. I remember I called her that in front of her friends a couple of week's ago, if looks could kill. She gave me a big lecture later than evening to never call her that again. I had just laughed but I've never called her it since.
I watch her stomach rise and fall as her soft purring fills my ears. The last fifteen years have gone way to fast. I'm thirty-two years old, the same age as Peeta. Loud footsteps behind me cause me to spin around and press my fingers to my lips. "Shh," I whisper and Peeta rolls his eyes and tiptoes towards me.
"Why are you up?" he whispers and I shrug.
"I couldn't sleep," I reply and he let's out a loud sigh.
"She isn't going to get reaped, you know what Snow said," he insists, quietly.
"Why does she have to attend the reaping then?" I snap, quietly closing Hope's door and tiptoeing back to mine and Peeta's bedroom.
"So, it looks fair. So it looks like she has a chance of dying, too. How would you feel if a daughter belonging to the two famous victors' doesn't have to attend the reaping? How would you feel if you were them and they new that she got away with it?" he argues as we slide into bed next to eachother.
My silence means he's right, as usual. "They wouldn't think it's fair. You're not the only one that worries that she could still get reaped but we just have to hope," he finishes and switches the lamp off, making the room turn pitch black.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, not wanting to fight, especially tonight.
Tomorrow is the reaping for the 90th Hunger Games and I'm dreading it. The last fifteen years Peeta and I have mentored thirty teenagers and not one of those children have come out of the arena alive. They go in strong and with lots of sponsors but somehow they always die and come home in wooden coffins. We see them in our sleep every night. "No, I'm sorry," Peeta whispers, resting an arm around my waist and kissing my neck, then my shoulder and then my cheek.
I moan softly and close my eyes. "Not tonight," I say.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Peeta replies, faking innocence.
"Hmm," I moan. "You could forget what I said."
"I'd be glad too," Peeta chuckles and presses his lips to mine. If I wasn't in the mood before I definitely am now. "Will it hurt the baby?"
"I don't think so," I reply and Peeta pulls away while groaning.
"I thought you was going to ask the doctor," he moans.
"Why couldn't have you asked?" I sigh.
"You could've asked your mom," Peeta complains and I laugh.
"Yeah, Peeta. Of course, I'll just walk into town now and ask my mom if I'm aloud to have sex with my husband while pregnant," I say, sarcastically. My mom and dad moved to town five years ago with Prim. I insisted on giving them money so they could build a doctors office. So, now they live on top of it. "Why don't you go ask your mom?"
He stares at me and makes a face that makes me burst into laughter. "I get your point," he whispers and starts kissing me again, all thought's about tomorrow disappearing.
I sit up and hold my arms up while Peeta slowly takes my top off. He throws it on the floor and gently pushes me back onto the mattress. He presses his lips down my stomach while I moan quietly; we don't want Hope to hear us and wake up. The thought brings back a memory. When Hope was three years old she had had a nightmare and came into mine and Peeta's bedroom. Unfortunately, she caught Peeta and I in the act. Obviously she was a kid so she didn't understand but it was still embarrassing. I laugh at the memory and Peeta looks up from my stomach in confusion.
I tell him what I was thinking about and when I finished he laughed and moved so he was on top of me, his face looking at mine. "I love you," he whispers and those three words cause a fire in my stomach.
"I love you, too," I whisper back and pull his head down so I can kiss him.
We undress eachother quickly, giggling like teenagers. Jeez, we never laughed like this our first time and now? I think we're going crazy… Peeta finishes taking my pants off and throws them on the floor. Then he gets down to business. "Peeta…" I whisper and he bites my neck. I leave a trail of fingernail marks as I drag my nails along his back. He stops. "What's the matter?" I ask.
"I can't," he sighs and rolls off of me.
"Why?" I question.
"Because of the baby," he replies and I chuckle.
"We had sex when I was holding Hope," I moan.
"We didn't know you was pregnant," Peeta replies and I roll my eyes and kiss his bare shoulder.
"Fine. I'll ask my mom tomorrow," I lie. There's no way I'm asking my mom. Maybe I'll ask Prim, she's a doctor.
"I'm sorry," Peeta says.
"Don't worry, it's fine," I insist and we fall asleep holding eachother.
I wake up my normal time- 7.30 and throw my hunting gear on. I tiptoe down the hall and peak into my parent's room and find them fast asleep and… naked? Eww! I smile to myself and walk downstairs quietly. At least they could have a little fun before they have to go mentor two innocent children. I shake my head, not wanting to think about that. I grab an apple and take a large bite before walking out of the door and closing it gently behind me.
I walk through the meadow and under the electric fence. I grab a bow from inside a log and load it, ready to hunt. Hunting calms me. I bet you think I'm like my mother. I am, a little. I'm a mixture of both of my parents. I can hunt and sing like my mom and I can bake, draw and be good with words like my dad. I glare at the small squirrel about a metre away from me and aim for its eye. I let go of the arrow and…Bull's-eye!
"That's my girl," a deep voice says and I spin around to see grandpa. I have three grandpa's- my dad's dad, my mom's dad and Haymitch. This grandpa is my mom's dad. I put my arms around his waist and he pats my back.
"Hey, grandpa," I greet.
"Good morning, Hope. How's your mom and dad?" he asks and the image of my mom and dad in bed earlier pops into my head.
"They're okay, I think," I reply. There's no way I'm telling grandpa what I saw. I can't wait to tease my parents about it later. "How's grandma?"
"She is perfect," he smiles and pulls away. "How long until you got to go home to get ready?"
"Two hours," I grin, knowing that grandpa will take me to the lake.
(Two hours later)
I stare at myself in the mirror and frown. I look like a… girl. You know what I mean, I never wear dresses but today mom laid a light blue dress out that she said uncle Cinna made for her. I don't know why I agreed to wear it. "You look beautiful," my mom whispers with a smile and ties my hair back in a braid.
"I look like a girl," I moan and she laughs.
This year I'm going to the Capitol with my parents. They never want me to go and tell me to stay home with Prim and grandma and grandpa but if I beg them they let me go with them. I've been going to the Capitol with them since I was ten years old so I know a lot of people like: Cinna, Portia, Effie, Finnick, Annie and their son Finnick Junior and Johanna.
"We have to go," my dad calls from downstairs and I sigh, knowing I don't have time to change.
My mom and I walk downstairs. When my dad notices me his eyes grow wide. "Wow! You look more and more like your mom everyday; Beautiful," he says and I blush along with my mom. We head to the Square in town and I sign in while my mom and dad goes to sit onstage with Haymitch, Mayor Undersee and Effie. At two o'clock the Mayor says the same old boring speech while I stare at the woods in the distance. I'd love to be hunting right now.
"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour!" Effie squeaks. "Ladies first!"
My mom and dad have told me time and time again that I won't get picked but it never stops me from being nervous. I'm not only nervous for myself but for my good friends Lilly Adams and Daisy Smith.
I glance at my two friends next to me and we smile nervously at eachother before we take each other's hand and squeeze it tight. When Effie speaks next it's not in her usual squeaky bubbly voice but in a sad whisper. "Hope Mellark."
She's so quiet I don't even hear her but the look on my mom and dad's face tells me they know who it is and they're definitely not happy about it. My mother let's out a loud sob and she and my father hold each other. I wrinkle my brow in confusion. Who could possibly be so special that they'd both cry like that? They've never been this upset before.
Lilly turns to me with tears in her eyes and whispers," I'm so sorry."
"What? Why? Who did she say?" I ask. But I think deep down I knew who it was.
"It's you, Hope," Daisy cries. "You're going into the arena."