Life Will Go On - sequel to Our Love Will Remain

Chapter 9

Peeta's grip loosens. I look at him and he is staring at something I can't see. Then, the pain hits me. It's a physical pain that hurts worst in my chest. I put my hand up to it and start taking deeper breaths. Then, the tears start flowing. I loved the baby. I loved it although I hadn't known about it for long. Why does this always happen to me? Why does my happiness always have to be taken away from me? I killed my own child. I killed my own child just because I wasn't careful enough. I start crying uncontrollably and the nurse starts to rub my back. I don't think Peeta would be capable of that right now. I stop crying for a while, just to look at him, and his face is absolutely drenched in tears. He seriously looks like he is hurting more than me right now, he is just crying silently. When I wipe my tears away from my eyes, I see that he is shaking. He sits there for a while, shaking, and then he excuses himself and walks out. He probably couldn't take it anymore. I don't blame him, I wouldn't be able to comfort him either. When I have cried for a while and the nurse has told me that everything will be alright, I decide to go look for Peeta. The nurse says that she will need us to come back, we have to take out the baby from my womb. But the only thing I care about right now is finding Peeta and comforting him. He comforts me so often and I comfort him so rarely. I walk out the door, my face all red and puffy, and there he is, sitting against the wall a few metres away. A few people are looking at him, wondering whether they should go talk to him or not, so I hurry up to him and kneel beside him. When he feels my touch, he looks up, and I can see that he is hurting enormously. His whole face and body posture is imprinted with pain and loss. I sit down in his lap and start stroking him. His crying decreases and his breaths become more steady.

"It's gonna be okay." I say, starting to cry again. Peeta starts to comfort me.

"It's gonna be okay." he says, too and starts rubbing my back soothingly. Then we hear a woman's voice.

"Are you okay?" she asks with an unsure voice. Then Peeta loses it.

"OF COURSE WE'RE NOT OKAY! WE JUST LOST OUR BABY!" he yells at them and we both start crying more and more. The woman retreats, looking sad, and we just sit there for a while, just crying out our pain and sorrow. And guilt. The baby didn't die itself. I killed it. When our crying has started to decrease again, Peeta says with a shivering voice:

"I-I'm s-sor-ry." I feel confused. Why is he sorry? Before I get to ask he continues: "For killing the baby." I feel angry. Why does he think he killed it? I can't find a single reason.

"Why do you think you made it die? It was me who did it, I fell." I say, my voice stabled by my anger.

"No, I should have kept you from falling. I didn't." he says, his voice more stable, too. I stand up.

"Peeta, if you say that you were the one who killed it one more time, I will..." I cut myself off. I don't know what to say.

"You'll what?" he asks and stands up, too. I take his head in my hands and kiss him hard on the lips. The kiss is full of urgency and worry, and somehow convincing him that everything's going to be alright. We break away, and I take Peeta's hand and walk towards the room where the nurse is waiting. We are both still very upset about losing the baby, but we won't start crying again. Yet, at least. When we enter the room, hand in hand, the nurse has set up some things on the hospital bed for the 'operation' I'm gonna have. She looks at us with a very compassionate look, but she doesn't say anything. She knows nothing will help now. I sit down on the bed and Peeta looks at me with a questioning look.

"What are they gonna do to you?" he asks and looks at the nurse, who has just been accompanied by a doctor.

"We'll have to take the baby out, it's not really a baby yet, you were only a few days pregnant, but we're gonna take out what is in your womb. It's not a big surgery, but we'll put you on some anesthetics just to avoid any pain. You won't have any permanent injuries, so you will be able to have another child in the future." I feel sad about the way he described the situation of the baby, but I swallow it. The fact that my womb is not injured makes me feel better also. Peeta nods, sits down beside me and takes my hand. They put something into my arm and I instantly feel more relaxed and the physical pain seems to fade away. They put some blankets over my lower section and start taking out the baby. I don't really concentrate on them, I focus my eyes on Peeta's clear blue ones. I let myself drown in them for a while to forget the sorrow of my real life, and I return when they take out the injection from my arm. They clean everything up and I get to stand up. I immediately feel empty and hug Peeta tight. He hugs me too and rubs my back. We break away when the doctor clears his throat. We look at him, and he is holding a small white box. It's really tiny.