Olympia Nessa Eileithyia District 9 FINISHED

My daughter was the most beautiful girl in the world, and I'm not just saying that because she is my daughter. Not only was she beautiful on the outside, but she was beautiful on the inside. The perfect child by anyones standards, what more could you ask for?

Because my daughter is not fully capable of properly describing herself to you, I shall do my best to in her place. The reason for this shall be revealed at the proper time, but for now, here is my daughter. She stands about 5'7" when she is standing completely straight, so proud and full of life. Several people mistook her stance as arrogant, that she felt better than them, but this infact is not true. She loves everyone no matter what they do to her or what they say to her. The jealousy of the district she was, her figure was desired by the other girls, and admired by the boys. She was competition to the other girls, beautiful with a wonderful figure. Now though...they don't have to worry about her anymore, she hasn't been a problem to them for a few years now. Once upon a time she would enjoy the attention she got, but now it means nothing to her. She would rather play games than worry about such trivial things as love or admiration.

Her hair was long and luxurious, with waves, parts, and curls. There was no style that she couldn't pull off. It was one of her favorite things to do, just sit down infront of a mirror playing with different hairstyles. Though eventually she would come down to the same two, pulled back into a poneytail or letting it hang to her shoulders. Her hair color was generally light brown, though it wasn't uncommon to find her attempting to make it blonde. She always thought that blonde girls got all the attention, so she should be blonde. Sadly these days she doesn't sit infront of the mirror trying new hairstyles. Looking in the mirror hurts her, almost as if she remembers what she used to be like. Often she'll come running to me with an expression of sadness on her face, and the words she tells me always break my heart. "Mommy, mommy, why is the person in the mirror not me? How come they look so old"? What can I tell her though, she wouldn't understand it even if I tried to explain it.

Her frame was always slight, she never weighed more than 150 pounds, and she was a healthy eater. Since she was so active she would just burn off everything with a good run. Surprisingly this didn't affect her figure at all like it would most others. Despite what most people think the lower districts don't always have it bad. We never wanted for food, there was always more than enough to satisfy Olympia's healthy appetite.

Her eyes always spoke volumes for her, so full of emotion. Now more than ever she seems to rely on her eyes to convey how she's feeling. She can't describe her feelings like she used to, so it's up to the people around her to try and interpret how's she feeling by her facial expressions. They're a dull blue color, almost grey, and it's easy to get lost in them. People say you can get lost in another persons eyes, and with Olympia that's never been more true. Looking into her eyes it's easy to find yourself calming down and feeling at ease. Her voice is soothing and easy to listen to. It never raises to a shout, and never shows signs of anger. When you look into her eyes and she speaks to you it has an instant calming affect on you.

I suppose I could tell you about her old style of clothes, but that probably would be frowned upon. After all it's the her that exists now you want to know about, suffice to say her style choice was daring and provocative. Now though it's more laid back and tame, tending to cover everything. Occasionally there are signs of her old style, but now, they seem more childish than anything. Floral prints and pastels dominate the color scheme of her wardrobe, long flowing skirts that blossom out at the bottom and shirts of wymsical designs. During some of her more childish fits it isn't uncommon to find her sitting in a room in the house with no proper clothes on at all. It doesn't occur to her that at the age she's at she needs to be wearing clothes. Than again she doesn't think she's the age she is.

There is only a few flaws to speak of on my baby, and that is a long scar on the back of her head. It runs from the top of her skull down to her spinal cord where several smaller scars are circled around a sewn up wound. It is the reminder of her accident, a reminder that she may not have been here were it not for the quick work of the doctors to save her.

There is only one thing that Olympia kept about her personality. That's the fact that she is always smiling and trying to find the best in everything. It's one of those times when having the mind of a child is actually a good thing. She'll wander around the entire district telling everyone about her life, and what makes her happy. Some people think that it's a joke and play along with it, one of those fake smiles on their faces as they answer her. I suppose I wouldn't believe it either if someone came up to me like that, an 18 year old girl rushing through the streets like a little 10 year old.

In truth she is a 10 year old, she's just in an 18 year olds body. An accident occurred that caused brain trauma, and instead of maturing mentally she has been regressing. The accident occurred when she was 14 years old, and at first we thought that she was okay. There were no side affects to speak of at that time. In any event she is very much like a 10 year old girl, curious and not at all interested in what most girls her age are interested in. She'd rather play with her dolls and stuffed animals than be outdoors and hang out with her friends. Very few of her friends accepted what had happened to her, instead they moved on with their lives as if she was never part of it. It was only lucky that she didn't fully understand herself otherwise she would probably have been hurt by it.

She is still loving of people, just not in the way that most 18 year old girls are. It feels like every day she comes home with a new person she says she loves, but her interest in them quickly fades away. To her tomorrow is a new day with new people to love. I wonder if she'll ever find someone that she'll really "love". It would have to be a special person that could understand her and didn't mind taking care of her like a child.

One of her most favorite games in the world to play is pretend she is a bird flying to far off lands. She'll sing and hold her arms out as if they're wings, running around the yard. She'll climb up into a tree and just sit there for hours looking out across the land. Sometimes she'll sit there until the sun starts to set, and as the sun falls below the horizon she will wave at it singing a song to it. Than she will return to the house and tell me that she sang a lullaby to the sun so it could fall asleep. What more can I do but smile ar her when she tells me that. The idea is so cute who am I to tell her otherwise.

It's fun to talk to her about her view on life, her descriptions of things always make me smile. Sometimes I wish I was like that again, looking at things with a simple and pure outlook. She is honest with everyone, not even thinking that what she's saying might offend the person. In her mind words can't hurt someone, so she is very free with her words. One might call this a flaw, but from my point of view it's not a flaw.

She loves art, paintings or drawings, everything. This makes her an interesting case for the doctors of the district. They look at her more as a lab rat than a human now. Using her drawings and paintings as a way of discovering what goes on in the mind of a someone like her. I don't approve of what they put her through, but they tell me that whatever they find out they will use to help her or maybe cure her. She doesn't seem to mind the trips though, she thinks it's all fun. It's one of the times that she must feel that she belongs, that she is truly free to be herself.

Olympia's life started as any other child's life would. I gave birth to her May 29th, my only child, and the pride and joy of my life. She was the most beautiful baby in the world, inquisitive, always questioning things. Her thirst for knowledge was unquenchable. As she grew older she grew less questioning though, instead she chose to seek the answers on her own. She thought it would be a bother to people if she asked them to many questions. Sometimes this got her into alot of trouble because she would get involved with things that she couldn't get out of. Thank goodness she was only about 7 years old otherwise she would be alot worse off. As she grew older she became interested in boys and fashion. She had the figure to appear quite attractive to the boys. I was so proud of her, and it was so entertaining when she would try and flaunt her curves. She would purse her lips and walk down the streets as if she was a runway model.

The other girls parents would tell me how jealous their girls were of Olympia, and how they felt overshadowed by her. Those are words every mother loves to hear, when their daughter is the envy of all the other girls. Things would change though, my daughter would no longer be the envy of the girls. She would always be my pride and joy, but her life was about to change.

At the age of 14 she was adventurous and prone to accepting dares. It was her way of keeping herself and her friends entertained. She always found more dangerous things to do every time she accepted them, and today's dare involved one of the old mills. Her friends dared her to walk across one of the suspension areas in the mill. It was supported by a few rusted sheets of metal and wood. Long had the mill been out of commission as it was deemed to dangerous for anyone to enter. I look back on the day with regret and remorse because it marked the end of the Oympia everyone knew.

She climbed up into the rafters and began her walk across the beams. All was going well for her, she was halfway across, but suddenly she lost her balance. Wildly her arms swung out at her sides grasping for anything to take a hold of. What she took hold of though was a loose sheet of metal that was hanging on the roof. As her hands pulled on it it came loose and came down on her. The jagged edge of the metal struck her on the head knocking her out instantly, and it ran down her skull and spine until it finally fell to the ground. Olympia was not far behind it as she crashed to the ground. Blood flowed freely from the open wound, and her friends went into a panic. One went to get a doctor while another ran to get me.

When I arrived at the scene what I saw almost made me die on the spot. My daughters prone form lay on the ground, her skull and back bleeding heavily as doctors attempted to keep her from dying. They told me they couldn't move her until the had staunched the bleeding and covered the wounds. For several minutes we all sat around her wondering if she would make it. At times we were unsure if she would, and several times her breathing stopped only to return with the aid of the doctors. Finally the bleeding stopped and the doctors were able to remove her from the mill.

They were still unsure if she would survive even when they got her to their office. Tirelessly they worked on her, cleaning and sewing up the wounds. For days she lay there fading in and out of conciousness until finally she woke up. She had no memory of the event...until her hand went to the back of her head and ran along the stitches that went from her skull down her spine. Tears filled her eyes and she screamed in shock and fear. The doctors removed me from the room and told me the stitches would never be removed, her survival depended on them. Had they the technology of the Capitol perhaps more could be done.

After a few more days I was able to take her home. At first it appeared the only side affects of her injury were the stitches. After one year though it became clear that there was a delayed reaction...she was regressing. At first no one recognized it, but with each passing day it became clear she was. Her interests were no longer what they used to be. She could be found now playing with dolls and playing dress up. For hours at a time she would lock herself in her room.

I don't think she fully understood what was going on. She would stare at herself in the mirror, desperately asking herself who she was, who was the person looking back at her. It wasn't the Olympia she thought she should be seeing. As I said before she would run to me and ask me who the person was looking back at her. By the time she was 18 she had regressed to the mentallity of a 10 year old. If it unclear if she will regress further at this point, but the doctors have made it very clear that she may never have the mind of an adult. When parents say that their children will always be their babies I mean it literally. Olympia truly...always...be...my baby.

cognitive development disorder