~needlework~ [rade]

The lone parent of this pack of children came swooping in so fast, Sarita didn't even know she was in the room until it was too late. The woman's arms locked around her, dragging the girl up from her chair and away from the window. Sarita's cheek was pressed against her mother's collar bone, a bony hand running through her auburn hair. The girl felt like she was being smothered or strangled or being taken prisoner somewhere. "Sari, its nice to see you doing something respectable. You haven't turned on my like some of your siblings. You are my favorite after all." The girl felt unsure in her mother's arms. Shouldn't a parent love of all of their children equally? That's what Sarita had always thought, but her mother must be an exception.

This wasn't the first time she had been pronounced the favorite but still it made her uneasy. However, the girl didn't let these feelings show through, a simple "Yes, mother," was all she said. That's all she ever said because that's all anyone wanted to hear.

She was freed from the prison of her mother's embrace and once again air filled her lungs and her eyes drifted to the window but only for a moment. Mrs Wolfe had not left yet, actually she had taken a seat on her daughter's bed. The dreaded sign that'd she'd be here for longer than Sarita really felt comfortable with. However, the girl sat gracefully down beside her mother- it was not ladylike to loom over a guest in one's room. Straightening her skirt over her knees, Sarita listened carefully to her mother like a proper daughter ought to do.

"What else have you been up to? Anything interesting happen at school? Any... boys?" Of course she was doing things, Sarita had all kinds of thoughts running through her head. All the daydreams she had just been pondering, the fabric she had sewn. At school they had done many things- learned more about cross stitching, did multiplication tables and were subjected to yet another speech about the generosity of the Capitol. There were many boys Sarita knew too, some handsome some not. Some were clever, some shy and some were even scary. Sarita occasionally saw a few looking at her, and she'd spoken to them and of course she preferred certain boy's company over other's. However, this was too much information to burden her mother with. Adults had important things to do, or so Sarita was told.

"No, not really," Sarita said lightly, dismissing all of her opinions as they did not matter. She had come to realize that over the years- the less one talks the more one is liked, or so it seemed. So, the girl spoke little, her hands folded in her lap and her legs crossed at her ankles. Only then was she the perfection everyone wanted her to be.

The brush. Sarita's mother used to brush her hair everyday and the girl had been so excited when that time came around. Caroline Wolfe had just gentle fingers that knew exactly what they were doing. They can put her auburn hair up into any which way she asked. Braids, buns, twists- you name it. She would beg her mother to do her hair before school so that when she arrived she might be able to catch the attention of the other kids at school. However things change when you grow up and that leap one had to make from childhood to become an adult was hard. Sarita didn't even believe she had made it yet.

She had tried, yes. Doing skilled needlework instead of the simple things she once did, learning more in school, and much to her mother's chagrin, doing her own hair. Just when Sarita thought she had landed on the other side of this deep chasm, her mother's arms yanked back. The girl used to love the feeling of the brush going through her hair, but now it felt like the thing was going to rip out her hair. Caroline's fingers going through her hair as if sorting through horded gems. However she didn't object, their mother had gone through a lot and the least she could do was let her comb her daughter's hair.

"Well Sweetie. I was talking to Mr. Bailey today..." That was all Sarita had to hear for the blood to drain from her face. The rest of the speech was white noise in her ear, some of the words slipping in through the thundering beat of her heart. "kindly gentlemen...interested in you..." Sarita's eyes were straight forward, her whole body stiff with desperation, confusion and plain fear. "wait until you turn eighteen for a wedding..." Wedding? Was she already engaged? Had her mother sold her off to Mr. Bailey? The mere thought of him made Sarita want to weep- he had to be twice her age! "...giving me healthy grandchildren to boot." Bile rose in the back of the girl's throat, her lips firmly pressed together to keep it there. Grandchildren? With that old thing? When her mother spoke of boys she thought she meant, well, boys not old men with factories and beards.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to yell at her mother for being so cruel, she wanted to meet Mr. Bailey for soul reason of smacking him the face. This wasn't how life was supposed to go- she was the favorite. The good girl gets the best match! The princess in the tower is saved by the handsome prince!

"Oh, Mr. Bailey might even stop by for lunch tomorrow, Isn't that exciting?" her mother's arm hit her in the side, making the girl jump and shrink away. Staring back at herself in the mirror, Sarita could see the agony in her own eyes. It was there, the pathetic hopeless face of a girl stuck in tower with no key. Maybe that princess didn't get to pick which prince saved her either... maybe she ended up with a Mr. Bailey. In that case, Sarita had been idolizing the wrong story for way too long. "You might even get to be on a first name basis with Pete."

"I can't," the words flew from her mouth before she could even think about stopping them. She had defied her mother! That was simply not done, she had to fix it. Slowly the words started to come out as the girl made them up, trying to make it sound honest as well. "I can't because... because I lied about there not being any boys. I... I can't talk with Mr. Bailey, that would be cheating."

Not the best lie she had ever come up with but it did the job. Sarita was amazed she managed to speak at all with her heart pounding in her temples and sweat gathering on her brow and in her palms. She guessed being in such a state of panic makes one quite resourceful. Sarita knew that if she didn't object she'd finish out her days stuck with Pete the bearded and that was something she would not do, not if she had the power to stop it. She had to go to the Capitol, explore the districts and meet her prince- someone that most definitely is not named Peter Bailey.