Double Digits // [Mace x Kieran]

. KIERAN .
fall head first like
paper planes and playground games

I liked to pretend I was important. Important in a different way than just happening to be the spawn of Aranica Petros and Mace Emberstatt. I liked to pretend people valued my opinion. When Momma walked down the hall with me in tow, I would raise my chin into the air and stick my chest out. I would bark orders like "I want more strawberries," at the silent ghosts of the people who worked in the Training Center, and I would listen in on the important conversations Momma and Daddy had with potential sponsors. On occasion, I would come out of hiding and offer my two cents: "Plus he is kinda like a super hero!" "I think she'll die without a little help." In retrospect, I was probably doing my parents a big favor. It was a lot harder to turn down the cute, well-known face of a nine year old.

Ten.

I was ten that day. And it felt weird. Technically, nothing was different about me, but I felt this sort of pressure in my chest. I was ten years old. Not one, but two digits were now used to describe my age. I felt different, even if I wasn't.

Momma woke me up with a warm smile and a hug. "Happy birthday, Kieran Lionel Emberstatt." She had kissed me of the forehead and pushed my hair out of my face, taking in the light shade of blue my eyes were. Daddy gave them to me and I felt bonded to him for it. Closer. It was embarrassing, but he hadn't exactly given me many things: a few phone calls, a week out of the year, hardly legible handwriting, and of course, his eyes. I found myself clinging to every little gift I got from him.

A quick scan of the room confirmed what I suspected: He wasn't there. It was disappointing, but in a way that didn't really hurt all that much. I thought perhaps the wound my father left had been ripped open so many times, feeling it had become a second nature of sorts.

Momma had obviously outdone herself. Probably to keep my mind off of Dad. It was irritating how she refused to talk about him, like he was an idea and not a person, like it was something I wouldn't ever fully understand, as no one could. Still, her plan worked that time. After opening my presents, I had a pile of trading cards, a letter from Momma, a plastic hovercraft, and a bag of candy. "The big one is waiting for you when we get home."

I smiled and thanked her, and gave her a hug. From the corner of my eye, I could see the quiet people rolling their eyes. At the time, I didn't know it was because in their eyes, I was a spoiled brat. In their eyes, I was getting everything, while all they ever had was taken from them. I watched them for the rest of my hug with Momma, and when she finally pulled away, it was because there was a knock on the door to my room. "Ms. Petros? We have an official matter that needs tending to, if you don't mind." the voice said, muffled through the door.

So there I was, marching down the halls beside my mother, a proud smile on my face. The Capitolites followed closely behind like vultures waiting on a sick animal to die. Eventually, they all got what they wanted: Momma's attention. Some stupid question they fathomed up simply to speak to her, and then they were on their way.

And then the biggest surprise, perhaps in my entire life happened. My Dad, with the eyes he gave me and, what I suddenly just realized, the smile, walked out of the kitchen doors. Following him were chefs wearing white hats and carrying a huge cake with my name painted on the top in, impressively, my favorite color: purple.

Dad started singing, and everyone else joined in, Momma included. When it was over, Dad knelt down next to me and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He smelled good. I wanted to smell like that when I grew up. "Make a wish." he said, and I closed my eyes to think.

"I wish I could live with Daddy." I thought.

And I blew out the candles. I hugged him tight and pressed my face into his shoulder. "I missed you, Daddy." I said through his shirt. I didn't want to let go, partly because I was scared he would disappear, and partly because I didn't want him to see the tears that were silently soaking into his shirt.

"I missed you a whole lot."