In my heart, she had always been three years old. The age she was when they took me away, took my tongue. In my mind, she ages: she'll be heading to school today or I wonder if she has a boyfriend or today, she will have her first Reaping.
But in my heart, she'll always be three years old, not understanding why the Peacekeepers were taking me away. Reaching for me. Crying for me. My husband holding her back, my strong girl, trying unsuccessfully not to join her in weeping.
They make us watch every Reaping, especially the older Avoxes with Tribute-age children they were taken from. Of course the Reaping is skewed to favor our children. Our children, and the children of Victors. So it wasn't a surprise when Wiress was reaped; I was only surprised it took them two years to do it.
Even though I knew she was likely destined for death, I leaned forward as far as I could go, to see my girl for the first time in eleven years. She looked a bit like me. But her father's eyes. I didn't expect her to be so beautiful. I could tell the years hadn't necessarily been kind. She was too thin, her clothes too shabby. They focused next on her father, my husband. He looked completely unfamiliar to me. I still remember him as a young, handsome man. But the years have not been kind to him, either. The madness had taken over, the madness I had kept at bay with my voice, and my smile, and the gentle routines we maintained with each other.
I wanted to look away. I wanted to look away, forget, but also to remember. I wanted to remember my girl up there, as she should be. Before the Capitol and the Games changed her forever.
Before I meet her, and she recognizes me.
The Avox I room with is a bright woman, and can read my face. Her son was Reaped the year before. He didn't make it for long. And now it was her turn to comfort me. Of course we can't speak to each other, and we don't know each other's names. We're not even permitted writing materials. But we can cling to each other like scared children, and so we do. I know where I'll be assigned for the Games. It's a punishment for me. Another petty torture for my little Wiress. I'll be assigned to serve my daughter. But she mustn't even acknowledge my existence. I'm a traitor, after all.
Maybe she would be lucky, and wouldn't recognize me.
The next day, I'm sent to the third floor with another Avox, male, originally from District 3. We're to serve the Tributes from our district. It's traditional. Sometimes we rotate, but I was fully expecting it this year. Since my daughter became eligible to be a Tribute, I've been serving the Games in come capacity each year.
I am going to be tending to her room, bringing her things she needs. I'll be seeing her every day while she's in training. And then, most likely, watching her die in some horrific fashion. District 3 Tributes didn't usually last long. The thought turned my mind into a puddle of tears.
But now was not the time. The Tributes will be here soon, and all must be in readiness. Our days are spent in cleaning, in making up beds, in setting out clothes. I chose the things for her room. I know our children would not last long, so I got the best things I could.
And she was my daughter. So the sheets and blankets were the softest ones I could lay my hands on. The clothes were neat and trim the way I hope that she liked things. I wished I knew her. I only remembered a few nursery rhymes I'd taught her. A couple of stories. But she probably didn't even remember me.
She's probably on the train now, I thought. Fascinated by the décor and eating well. I just wanted her to be safe...but I couldn't even give her that. I wanted her to be comforted, but I probably wouldn't even get a chance to touch her, much less hug her.
Oh, I just wanted to be a mother again, so badly! I missed the feeling of small arms around me, of feeling so close, so connected to another living creature. A part of...and yet, apart.
I didn't even miss my husband as much, but still, his loss was a bone-deep ache inside me. I miss the meeting of our minds. I miss the nights most of all, with Wiress between us, our family. I even miss my job, designing car motors. I miss talking. I miss laughing.
I was dying to see her, and yet, I never wanted her to arrive, to come to this place of poison. I wanted her to stay well away, with her intricate, beautiful mind that surely had come to fruition now, that I had only caught glimpses of when she was a baby. The mind that the Capitol would surely ruin, if she were to survive their barbaric Games.
I made sure that the best shampoo I can find was in her shower. If she was anything like me, her hair never did get very clean in District 3...