we dream of somewhere else : {gaby}

The only reason I enjoy summer is because it gives me an excuse to wear dresses. I mean, I wear dresses whether or not it's ninety degrees outside, but now if my parents try to get on my case about it, I can bring out the old "it's too hot for pants" excuse. My dress today is light blue, and it used to reach below my knees before I tore it shorter. I'm supposed to be watching my mother as she teaches me to carve, but it's awfully boring, so I decided to toy with the frayed edges of my clothes instead. She hasn't noticed yet. She's still blabbering on about "proper techniques" or whatever. I wish I could be outside, dancing around the trees.

She clears her throat. I glance up, staring right into her unamused face. "Pay attention, Camilla," she says, in that stern voice of hers.

I roll my eyes. How rebellious of me! "This is so boring, mother! I'd much rather be doing anything else."

"You have to learn to do this!" She waves her carving tool into the air. "None of your siblings are going to take over when we can't run the shop anymore! It's all up to you!"

That's my mother, always at the edge of her short temper. She's just passionate. I huff, and cross my arms. "Can we do this some other time?" I ask.

It's my mother's turn to huff. She leans back into her chair. "Fine. At least go help your father with something."

I'm out of my chair before she's even finished her sentence. The tiny carving room we were in leads right behind the counter of our storefront. My father is deep in conversation with a customer, but he excuses himself when I walk in. "Camilla!" He smiles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. When he looks me over, though, his smile fades. "Did you cut that dress?"

"Technically, no," I reply, shrugging his arm off.

"Adults don't destroy their clothing," he says. Ugh! All these reminders of my impending adulthood! I'm telling you, once my final Reaping passes, I'll be out of here! And they'll have to run this store by themselves, until the day they die!

That was rude. Let's pretend I didn't think that. "Mother wants me to help you," I tell him, completely changing the subject.

He nods. "Well, good. I need a couple deliveries done."

Thank god! Thank the heavens! I can finally go outside! My father grabs a small wrapped package from underneath the counter. I bet it contains one of our famous wooden ducks. The name of the person it's for is scribbled on the paper. I peer closer at what can only be my mother's messy handwriting. Oh, dear.

"You know her?" My father asks. "She lives right outside the town square."

"Yes." I don't tell him that the woman is a nasty old hag who glares at every teenager who passes her home. In a fairytale, she'd definitely be the evil witch.

"Well, get going!" He claps me on the back before going back to help the customer.

I step out into the warm light of the afternoon. The heat doesn't feel too bad right now, underneath all these trees, but I'm sure it'll get worse. Good thing I tore my dress shorter! I set a course for the town square. My father has a few more packages for me to deliver after this one, so I make sure my pace is quick enough. I walk past scattered houses, workers on their lunch breaks, children chasing each other with flowers in their hair. How I envy them! Maybe after I deliver these things, I'll take a few hours for myself and lay in the nearby meadow.

As I'm passing by the backside of a building, something catches my eye. There's a pile of trash behind the building, which is unusual, but there's also a person sitting on top of it, which is even more unusual. I stop my brisk walking and backtrack to get a better look. Yes, there's definitely a girl on top of that garbage pile. Why?

"Excuse me? Miss?" I take a cautious step forward. "Are you planning on taking yourself out with the garbage? Because I can assure you, you're definitely not trash."