:{words.can't.explain| [Nofo]

The camera shook in my hand as I attempted to take photos of the scenery around me. I'm not having much luck, my mind is focused on too much other stuff. First of all, if you didn't already know, I'm pregnant, and Matt sent York into the Hunger Games. Yeah, my life sucks, but I'm atempting to live a normal life anyway. My mom shouldn't have to worry about me. I won't let her worry about me, she should worry about herself. I mean, she leaves the entire household on me lately. I have to practically raise Aris, my brother, by myself. It's not fair, and I never understood why. I know that she dates a lot, but what good is a man if you can't take care of yourself. Men are disloyal, why should they be trusted. Simple, they shouldn't.


I don't know why I ever trusted York, because he left, when he knows there were better options. I would never leave him to die. Maybe I'm selfish, but I don't want to die, because I would still be without him. I may make no sense, but it's because I have so much on my mind. Yeah, today was the bloodbath, and I watched intently for hours, but Aris sent me out of the house because I was 'obsessing' over it. There wasn't much to see anyway. York was talking to a rock he called Simon, and crying. Is it wrong that I wish he was crying about me. I doubt it, though, because he doesn't care about anything as much as he cares about money. Maybe he realized that there was no use for money in the afterlife, yeah, I like that thought.


Last week, when I spoke to my therapist about these thoughts, she told me that I was trying to cope with York's death. Maybe that's true, but it doesn't make it any more fair for him to leave me. I'm a mess, but I'm only a mess because of what York has done to my body. I have mood swings left and right, in fact the other day I smacked Aris for asking me to share the bread. I didn't realize that he didn't mean it offensively, and it was only when I started to cry was it that I realized what he meant. I wish life in District One was easy, but life in any district isn't easy. Maybe you'd expect it to be easy here, considering we're the strongest careers, and the fiercest competitors, but we still suffer the angst and poverty you'd expect in the Districts. Sure, the poverty isn't on as big of a scale, but sure, there are plenty of homeless in District One. Though, on the flip side, we have plenty of victors to make up for it. So, the homeless get a treat every other year or so.


I snap a couple photos of the rose bushes I planted outside the house, they're beautiful. I always had a love of roses, especially white roses. White roses symbolize purity, which I obviously don't embody, but they're beautiful. Aris always helps me garden, in fact he planted the tulips over there by the front steps. Of course, they're wilting because I haven't had much time or patience to take care of anything except my roses. Aris doesn't really want to be around me lately, and I understand that. When I told my family I was three months pregnant, Aris was the first to tell me that he expected as much. I mean, Aris knows me better than anyone. Is it lame if I say that my brother is my best friend, especially my twelve year old brother? I guess so, but he's a friend. Anyway, after the slap I gave him, he hasn't really wanted to talk to me, and I haven't worked up the nerve to apologize. I just feel like it's better if he didn't have to worry about me all the time. I love him, and his mom loves him, but sometimes, I feel like he gets it mixed up. I'm not his mom, I don't act like his mom. His mom takes care of him when she can, she cooks his means. That's what a mother does, right? I think I'm the one who truly loves him.


I frown as I glance over at the tulips in the garden. I should really ask Aris to help out, but I don't have the time right now. I actually have a doctors appointment in a few minutes. Wait, a few minutes? Damn, I probably should go soon. I put the camera amount my neck and I dash out of the yard. I turn back to see Aris' brown hair moving away from the window. I smile and continue on my three block trek to the District One Memorial Hospital.


When I get there, the white building is filled with television screens, all focused on the Hunger Games. Of course, there is the occasional interview about the latest death. I guess her name was Engima or something, not that I can remember her District. She was a pretty girl, it's a shame that her neck was slit so early. If it couldn't be York or his cousin, Anastasia, I believe I would have liked it to be her. She was brave, spunky, and beautiful. I remember back to last years victor, District One's own Topaz Ross. Topaz reminds me so much of Enigma, and it's unfair that Enigma died so early on, because she could have done so well for York. I wish York could have aligned with her, but he's such a dick, I don't expect anyone to align with York. I still wonder how I fell in love with him.


Finally, I'm brought from my trance by a woman at the front desk who noticed me staring at the television. "Such a shame, that girl. So brave, to stand there while she was being butchered."


My thoughts exactly, so I walk up to the desk and plaster a convincing smile on my face as I open my mouth to speak. "Edana Lightwood, I have an appointment with Doctor Wilkes."


She smiles and gestures to the couches, and that's where I guide myself. I sit down next to a boy about my age, and I smile at him. He's attractive, but he has that kind of dopey quality to his face, and a beautiful pair of lips. My eyes wander down his body, and they settle on his leg. His leg, it isn't even really a leg. It's a mechanical leg, like my own.


"Oh, wow." I say as I look back at him "Were you born with a defect too?"


I realize that he knows nothing about my own leg, so I pull up my skirt to show him the seam between the prosthetic and my knee. "I'm Edana, and we have plenty in common." I smile, and this time, it's not even fake.


What are the odds that I'd find a boy who I would have so much in common with on the exact same day of York's arrival in the arena? Wow, York, I have thought so much of him in the past day, but in these few seconds of meeting this boy, I feel my memories fleeting away from me. I know I'm pregnant, I'm seventeen, and I have a brother Aris. I have a prosthetic leg. The other stuff is floating from me, and I strive to remember what I wished that I could have forgotten. Funny how that works, isn't it?

The boy's voice snapped me out of my trance. His voice is so smoothe, delicate, and soothing. He's beautiful inside and out, I can tell by the way he speaks, and the way he carries himself. I hope that we'll be friends, and I want to get to know him. York doesn't have any competition anywhere, but why can't I give him some? Why can't this boy give him some competition?

"Nice to meet you Edana. I'm Clayton. Clayton Synclair. And it appears that way, huh? I got mine though an accident though." I hear as I'm drowning in his beautiful eyes. Oh, he's not as perfect as York. That's probably a good thing, I won't feel the need to try as hard. It's still depressing to hear that anyone could suffer to get their leg the way we have. I never suffered, though, and it's clear that we both need someone to talk to. I smile an apologetic smile and I extend my hand for him.

"Are you here for your leg too? Or something else?" Oh, I guess he can't tell yet. Weird, mom was picking about it the other day. Bitch, remind me to have Four kill her later. Oh wait, she can read this. Do it. "Oh, and congratulations on not being reaped, unless you wanted to be, then sorry."

That sentence hits me like a punch in the gut, except it wouldn't be considered abortion. I look away, hoping to block the tears, that always come when I think about the possibility of York's death. Of course, I didn't want to be, and if I did go in, York would have to die for me to return. Luckily, the tears never come, but I still keep my head turned.

If I do end up crying, I'm not going to make the mistakes I did with York. I can't cry anymore, I need to be strong, for Aris. Who else would be there to love Aris if I would have died? I'd have to kill York if I was reaped, because Aris is family, and family comes first to me. I don't care who the boy is, my family is everything to me. Well, my brother, anyway.

I look back to the television set, to make sure I didn't miss anything in the past few minutes. If York died and I missed it, I would never forgive myself. Sure, he'd be dead, but York is someone I care about. I like to think that I'd be the only one to see his death, like it'd be private for me.

More importantly, it would be hard for me to witness York's death, so I'm always hoping he'd make it out. But, who am I kidding? York is York, he has the personality of a rock. About the same personality as his friend Simon, well, it makes sense, considering Simon is a figment of his imagination.

York is a friend, and my baby's father, I would give anything for him to return, and for his father to die. Yes, that's a good idea. I'd love to get revenge on the man who sent his own son to die in the Hunger Games. He's a monster, and I hold no room for pity in my heart for him. He is not York's dad, he may be his father, but no dad would send their son to die a terrible bloody death.

I wish York wasn't the type to volunteer, but he always told me that he wanted to protect me. I understand that, but I'm not a damsel in distress. I can take care of myself, even if it would be better to ask for help.

Oh, I guess I'm ignoring Clayton. "No," I whisper to the brown haired boy "I'm not a career, I have another life to care for other than my own." I smile faintly as I run my hand over my stomach. I wonder what I'd name this baby. York would have loved the name to end with 'ville,' but I don't care if he dies or not, family is family. No child of mine will be mocked for their name. Maybe I would give them his middle name. What was it? Oh, York. Maybe it's not such a good idea.

It was then that I noticed the figure outside the hospital. I'd only ever seen him in the pictures that rested in York's house. I knew him as a monster. York knew him as dad. I sat there, watching the aging man wander aimlessly through the Hospital parking lot. I could tell that he was waiting for me. York mentioned that he threatened to kill me. Surely he isn't happy about his son befriending a rock. I wonder what he's after now. I study him for a few moments, and I'm lost in my hatred for a man I don't even know.

The man looks me in the eyes once, and begins back towards his car. I must have been wrong about him. The grey faced man must have been after someone else. I need to talk to him about York and my baby though. I turn back to tell Clayton that I'll be right back, and he's gone. I guess he got called back. I turn to the receptionist and tell her that I'll be back soon.

It takes me a couple seconds to get up. I'm pregnant, and even at four months I realize the need to be careful with my body and my baby. The man is just getting in his car when I open the door. I shout towards him.

"Mr. Mentz!" I scream as the wealthy father of my lover starts a car more expensive than my house. "I need to talk to you." He opens the door and smiles once in my direction. He waves goodbye, and I realize that I wasn't wrong about him wanting to see me as the knife enters my abdomen.

He hired someone to kill me. He hired someone to kill my baby and I. He isn't a monster but Satan himself. No man in their right mind would willingly kill their grandchild. I try to call for help, but I can't get the words past my lips. The person, who I can now see is a teenager and barely larger than my brother, is dragging me to the far wall of the building. They want someone to find me.

I can feel the tears burning into my face. If I somehow survive the wound, my baby won't. Maybe that was the plan all along. To kill York's child, to show me who's in charge. He is a sociopath. He wants to control everyone he comes in contact with. He might as well be president. "Please," I mouth to the figure above me. He's watching me, so he should understand me. "Get help. For my baby."

I know that wasn't what I meant. My baby wouldn't survive a knife to the gut. Not at this stage. My only hope would be that they missed my vital organs and my child completely. I still need help. I try to crawl towards the nearest window, but I can't move. The teenager is gone, but I know that anything I try to do could hurt my baby.

My vision starts to blur. I've lost a lot of blood. It's coming from the wound which I take as a good sign for my baby. Still, it won't survive if I can't pull through.

York. York will outlive me. That's not right. He's in the Hunger Games to die. How can he outlive me? It's not fair. I shouldn't be dying right now. I should be crying in my room about how York was stupid for listening to his dad. But, I am here outside the hospital bleeding to death.

I'm asleep now. I hope that it's sleep. I smile as York walks towards me where I lay in the grass. It's a beautiful place, wherever I am. There are trees around me in every directions, except for my immediate surroundings. A meadow, and it's beautiful. Flowers of every color lay around the fabric of my blood red dress. I must be dead.

"York." I smile and wait for his embrace that doesn't come.

"You have to fight, Edana." He's right.

I'm not dead, and I smile. I'm not dead! There's hope for my baby. Hope for me.