My One Shot Collection

Rising Rebellion One Shot: "What if..." [22/8-16]

So, the first one shot I have decided to upload, is one related to my third story of my own Hunger Games series. They were the first stories I ever wrote and published on Wattpad, and I've been slowly editing the stories now that my writing has improved massively from the beginning. That is why some ideas have come back, and they were actually some possible directions that I could have gone in the story, but decided not to. I was probably too scared to mess with the original stories (I wish I was more daring now obviously). The date between the '[]' reflect the date in which it was originally written. So here it goes then:

What if John and Sylvia had given birth to a baby girl just before the Quarter Quell games?
(In Sylvia's pov)

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"John?" I have to take deeper and deeper breaths. I sat up about twenty minutes ago, trying to make sense of the pain I felt. I was scared it was what I suspected. Now that I am certain that it is, we need to make some things happen. "Are you okay?" John asks as he turns around and sits up next to me. I want to both nod and shake my head at the same time. This is supposed to be a moment of bliss. Instead, it is a moment of pure fear if we cannot do what we planned. "It's happening." I tell him. "Now?" His eyes widen. "Yes, now." I answer as I try to swallow deeply.

Pure fear was the first thing that struck me the moment I found out I was pregnant. A child would give John and me something to fear to lose. The two of us were always safe, but a child would be the reason John and I would do everything just to keep him or her safe. The child's life would be horrible if he or she was known to be John and mine. We do not know if the Capitol or more specifically, President Snow knows about this because he has a way of getting to know such person details. That is why John and I asked Marge and her boyfriend Roy for help. They are the only ones that know, and ever since then, Marge faked a pregnancy. As much as it will kill me not to be a part of my child's life, I can sacrifice that if that means that the child is safe.

"How are you feeling? Do you think you'll be fine until we get there?" John asks as he helps me out of the bed. We do our best to hide my belly. I sense a weak contraction almost the moment he asks. I have to stop our movement for a moment. I hold on to his arms as I breathe slowly. "If this baby wants as much of a 'normal' life as he or she can get, he or she will help me on that matter." I answer with a slightly shaky voice. John pulls my chin up so his eyes meet mine. "Listen, it's going to be okay. We are doing the right thing here...even if it's killing us." He says, placing a weak kiss on my forehead. "Doing the right thing isn't easy..." I let out while leaning against his chest and him holding around me. That is when I sense another powerful contraction. "We really need to go..."

"Hey, you're doing great, baby, just keep on breathing." John keeps on saying as he holds my hand as tightly as he has to. The closer we got to the house, the closer the contractions grew. The water just happened to break when we got inside the house of Marge and Roy. John had to carry me the last part to the bed and help me hold back the scream I wanted to unleash. Roy is a trained healer, which serves us greatly now that the first big push is coming. I bend forward and push as much as I can. They have given me a piece of wood to bite down on so I do not scream my lungs out.

I fall back on the pillow, closing my eyes for a short moment. "I'm seeing the head now, Sylvia. You're going to have to push again." Roy says while Marge walks in with some towels and sheets. The only thing I want to do is tell Roy try and push himself but I know that the only sound I am going to make at this point is one loud scream that is going to draw some unwanted attention. I look over at John instead. He plants a kiss on my forehead while holding on to my hand. "You can do this. You're the strongest person I know." He says in a supporting voice. I close my eyes trying to relate myself to the person he says I am. Sometimes it is hard to believe.