♥ eden turner : d5 [cbd]

"What are you drawing, Eden?"
On the paper is a carefully crayoned figure in a dress.
Like Eden, the woman's hair is golden and her eyes blue.
She wears a crown atop her curls.

"It's my Mama. She's a princess."
"I'm sure she is very special to you, yes."
"No. She's really a princess."
"What have I told you about lying, Eden?"

Her lip quivvers and her eyes brim with easy tears.

"You're six years old, now. You're a big girl, there's no need to throw another tantrum."

Eden disagrees. She ought to be able to do what she wishes.

. . .

The playground is empty. Seven little girls sit together beneath a tree.

"Tell us again about the Capitol, please."

Eden smiles and rolls her eyes. "I suppose I could."

Six pairs of rosebud lips part, six children gaze admiringly at their friend.

She pauses, playing with her hair. The attention is a balancing game, but Eden is well practised.

They listen hungrily to her lies.

. . .

(To Miss Lethe Turner,
There have been a series of incidents involving your daughter, Eden, here at school. We understand that it is difficult for her, spending time away from home and feeling different from the other children, however we must ask you to speak to her about her general disobedience. She is somewhat demanding of the teacher's time and attention, and resorts to childish strategies and tears when her needs cannot be met immediately. We have also struggled to get her to understand the importance of following directions and telling the truth. If you could kindly see her classroom teacher when your schedual allows, we may be able to work together to help your daughter be the best she can be during class-)

Eden doesn't understand every word of the letter.

She knows enough to tear it into small pieces and scatter it in the wind as she walks home from school.