Hands grab at me, pull at my arms, pinch my face.
"Go away!" I mutter, not wanting to be disturbed from my sleep.
"Roseau…" A soft breathy voice whispers in my ear.
I bolt upright, nearly knocking my mom off the bed. Her face is pale and tear-streaked, her hair, a ratty disheveled mess.
"Mother! What's the matter?" I've never seen my mom like this before. She's always been resolute and fearless, her image always polished. I don't think I've ever seen her cry.
She glances down at the flowery bedspread that I always thought was too childish for my taste.
"Mom, what is it?" My voice is rising with urgency.
She lifts her head and stares right at me, her watering eyes a faded graying blue.
"Rose,… your grandfather… is dead." Her voice cracks as she says the last word.
My reaction isn't of grief though, it's of puzzlement.
"Mom, I don't have a grandfather…" I know that technically, I must have had a grandfather but he may as well have never existed for all that matters. I never saw him nor did my mother ever speak of him or any of my relatives in fact.
"Yes you do, Rose." My mom looks away. "Come on, I'll show you."
She gets up and exits my room, leaving me no choice but to follow.
Our house isn't grand compared to most people in the Capitol but I've seen enough District footage in school to know that we are living a life of luxury. My footsteps echo lightly as I pad down the hand-carved mahogany staircase. When I reach the living room, my mom is turning on the television. For a moment, nothing happens and I'm worried that there might be another power outage like the several that have occurred in the last week. Slowly though, the screen flickers to life and the image I see is forever ingrained in my memory. It's our President, lying on a magnificent gold pedestal, wrapped in a silky white sheet. Instantly I know that he's dead.
"Rose, you do have a grandfather." My mother repeats, dragging out every syllable.
"No I don-" Suddenly, I understand.
My grandfather died yesterday. His name was Coriolanus Snow.