Maia Dalton // District 11 // FIN

Maia was born at the end of summer- when the fields of District 11 looked like rivers of gold. Like most children, her mother was at work on the fields when she went into labour- in 11 Maternity Leave was a foreign subject- and so Maia was born where she would live most of her days and most likely die. Her mother barely pause to give birth to her second child, and once she were born and the cord had been cut by some of the other woman working in the fields, Maia was swaddled into piece of Burlap and tied to her mother’s back- who then went straight back to work.

The little girl grew up quickly, she was one of two at the time of her birth but by her 5th Birthday there was two more- Riley and Tuli- and there was another on the way. Like most Families, they had barely any money to feed themselves and all 3 children and their parents were living in a two roomed house on the edge of the District. Where their little shack now stood, there had once been a great open field but the ground had been worked so much it had been turned to dust and blown away leaving a barren patch of land that no one wanted. So her father had built their house there with the little money he owned.

Maia remembered the first day she sat on the back of the truck with her father on the way to the farms. Tears streamed down her face as she begged her father to take her back to school, but he refused. Sour with hate, Maia kept quiet for the rest of the journey; her lips pursed to keep in the words she wanted to say so badly but knew if she did, she would be scolded. "Children are seen, not heard!" her mother would always snap when Maia would complain that she were hungry- after the first few slaps on her arm with a stick they used to herd their single cow, Maia kept her thoughts to herself.

Working on the farms until her hand bled from picking the vegetables taught her many things. She learnt if she worked hard, she would get more money and the owners of the farm would take less notice of little mistakes. She would see others, people younger and even older than her would become exhausted with heat and fall to the ground; then they would be punished. Maia would feel bad for them but she kept her eyes cast down and kept on picking cause she needn't express her opinions there.

Over time, Maia saw no use in school. She had no need to learn about the history of Panem, advanced English or mathematics that would ultimately get her nowhere because she knew she would probably work on the farms for the rest of her life. Thus when she did go to school, she didn't really pay attention to what she was being taught. When questioned about it, Maia would reply that 'she needn't learn this nonsense! That she would have no need for maths or English when working in the fields'. For that she would get a detention and a beating by her mother; eventually she did not reply with the truth, but with the lie that her mind was elsewhere. Sometimes she'd get a detention for that too- but they were much less frequent.

After the school day had ended, young Maia would find herself with little time to complete school work set by the teachers or to enjoy her childhood days. The first thing Maia would do when she got home was begin cooking a family meal for the other 7 members of her family; however the meal variety was never very vast and often consisted of some corn, rice, a chicken broth made from the bones and on rare occasions the meat of the chicken itself. It was not the healthiest of diets, her youngest brother Issac had developed scurvy because there was lack of fresh fruit avaliable and even less that the family could afford.

After dinner, Maia would not play with her siblings like a girl of 12 was supposed to- running and screaming with delight, scrapping knees on the dirty ground outside or climbing trees for fun and not to collect the fruits that lay nested in the top- instead she would continue the chores that her mother would have carried out if she was ever sober enough to do so. The little girl would make sure her younger siblings- Riley, Tuli, Lorenza and Issac- were clean, fed, did their homework, went to bed on time while their poor, unfortunate mother lay waste to herself in the singular arm chair they owned.

Her mother had been this way, a drunk, for almost 6 years now- Maia had very few memories of her mother being, well, a mother- ever since that day. A day that was forever ingrained in her own memory that she wondered if it would ever fade away- it was the day her elder brother, Thoman, died. No one ever talked about it, not at the dinner table or after, because no one wanted to remember the day Thoman was slaughtered in front of millions of people on live television; all in the name of the Capitol.

She remembered how her mother had fallen to her knees in a wave of screams and tears while her father just stared at the TV screen with tears in his eyes, but Maia had been too young to understand. She had seen another tribute, decapitate her brother in front of her eyes but she did not understand that he would not be coming home; she thought it had been an act, so she did not cry. Despite this fact, that day instilled a great fear in Maia of ever being reaped; but this was true for most children.

The years passed and her life had remained untouched by change, the family never got any richer or poorer and her mother still drank moonshine that she'd purchased from the market- Maia sometimes wondered if this is where their money went- and she continued to work on the farm to support her family.


Until just short of her 17th Birthday. It had been a very, very odd day to begin with. Maia had woken up at 7 am sharp to go collect the water from the well so that she could cook some oats for breakfast before cleaning the house and looking after the children- it was a Sunday so she had the day off work. However, when she walked into the main room to collect the bucket, she found that there was already a pot of oats simmering on the iron stove; and her mother was stirring them. The situation took Maia back for a moment and then her mind finally realized what she was seeing: for the first time in almost 11 years, her mother was sober.

Her mother turned round and smiled at her daughter, like she used to before Thoman, telling her to go back to bed. Maia did not know what to think of this, at first she thought she were dreaming and then she realized that she was awake, and so did not move or do as her mother said. She just watched as her mother stirred the oats and hummed a little tune to herself.

Maia was cautious, she did not want to ask why her mother was awake or why she was cooking breakfast or even why she was sober; but for whatever reason, Maia knew it was not a good one. Returning to the bedroom, she lay back down on the bed she shared with Riley and lay there for a good hour before she got up again and went to see if her mother had snuck into the pantry to get the moonshine but instead she found herself face to face with a strange man.

Maia froze, she did not recognize this man who was sat at her dining table in her house. He was young but still a lot older than her, he had stubble on the sides of his pale cheeks which grew in a gradient of brown and ginger, he had startling blue eyes and strong hands; he smiled.

"Good Morning" he said, his voice rough and strong like a river in flood.

"Good Morning" Maia replied- he may have been a stranger but he looked important, he was wearing a suit, so she thought it best to keep her manners.

Maia's mother crossed from the kitchen, putting down bowls of oats and a large plate of rye bread, before speaking. Her words were well formed and unscathed by an alcoholic slur "Maia, this is Mr Dalton. He will be joining us for breakfast this morning"

Maia took her seat opposite Mr Dalton as nerves began to set in. Something was off, her mother was sober and her father kissed her on the cheek- the young girl had never seen her parents touch one another ever- and there was a strange white man in their house who looked like he had lived here his whole life. The younger children even took note that something was wrong, or at least different, but none spoke up about it because that's the way they had been bought up; they all ate in silence while their parents talked to the mysterious Mr Dalton. Maia did not feel very hungry, which was unusual for her, and put it down to the nerves she was feeling. Eventually, her father turned to her and addressed her with the answer she had been looking for.

"Maia, you are probably wondering why Mr Dalton has joined us today?"

Maia put down her spoon, leaving it resting against the bowl edge, and looked up at her father "Yes, I believe we all are wondering that"

By the look her mother shot her, Maia realized that she should have just kept with a Yes.

Her father brushed it off and continued "Well...how do I put this...ahem...you and Mr Dalton here are going to be married"


She did not know how but the next thing she knew her feet were carrying her across the dead and dusty fields as fast as she could. When she looked over her shoulder she could no longer see the house and she couldn't hear her mother and father calling out after her. Fear pumped through her veins as fluid as her blood. Eventually her feet ground to a halt and she fell to her knees and cried.

She felt betrayed, she felt worthless. They were treating her as if she were an animal they could so easily exchange for lots of money and wealth- was that all her life had been so far? Being locked in a cage, trained to perform tricks so that she would catch a higher price when they sold her when she was ripe for the picking. Maia felt sick to her stomach, it bubbled and wretched, shaking on the dusty ground. She felt unloved by those who were supposed to come first when it came to affection but now she had no idea what to think.

It was not long before she heard the distant roll of wheels; a car. Her family did not own a car, they were far too poor but she had seen one parked outside the house when she'd fled the dinner table suddenly after being informed she was to be married off, so perhaps it belonged to Mr Dalton. Maia would have lifted herself off the ground and run, run until she reached the fence then somehow escaped but as she went to run, two hands lifted her off the ground. 

She screamed, kicking and pulling at her fathers arms as he hoisted her into the back of the rusted pickup truck. Maia- sobbing- fell back again the metal side of the back of the truck, her hand moving to her eyes as if when she could not see, the world would stop being there. Mr Dalton gave her a sympathetic glance before he set off back towards the house. As she sat in the back of the truck and sobbed, she wondered what she had done to deserve this?


It's dawn and the sun had barely breached the horizon but Maia was awake at 5 am sharp. Most people, even at the age of 32, would of struggled to get out of bed at all in the morning but Maia opened her eyes and sat up without moaning or trying to fall back to sleep. Kneeling on the kitchen floor for most of yesterday scrubbing away shows its self in her aching bones; she had worked hard.

The woman sat on the edge of her bed, stretching her neck gently as she loosened her tense muscles from sleeping on a near to the lumpy pillow. Her husband, Harvey Dalton, snores on the other side of the bed; Maia looked over her shoulder at him with a slight scowl. So lazy she said to herself.


Since marrying him, near 15 years ago to that very day, benefited her more than she could of imagined when she had first been delivered the news; Harvey owned one or two fields in the District and the yields were always quite high so they were one of the more well off families in 11. They had a two story house- something un-heard of in her community as a child- and Maia was very proud of it.

Every day she would clean and clean until the floors sparkled like mirrors and everyday she would cook a meal for herself, Harvey, their 3 children- Ava, 15, Franklin, 12 and little Holly who was 6. She also ; her sister had passed away not a year ago and she had kindly taken in their children. Suddenly, Maia was on her feet with a gown on; it was a Saturday and Maia expected the eldest children to be up for 6 to help her cook dinner and milk the singular cow they owned.


It reminded her much of her own childhood yes, but if they did not have to work on the fields until they were 18 and she did not make them cook or clean on the weekdays. Sundays she would allow them to do as they pleased- Maia had been a full time adult as a child, she had promised herself that her own would not be the same.