Monday, April 3
Gage's loud sharp voice pulls me put of the dank, foggy world that is my dreams. "Maize, come on! Mom's getting mad!" He kicks my bed, hard. I bounce and hit my head on the wooden bed post and I can tell now that there will be a bruise there. I kick my feet out from under the sheets and rub my head.
"Alright, I'm coming," I sigh and begin to greet my somber world. Still in my nightgown, I wander down the stairs and into the kitchen to find my mother, father and brothers already present. I sink into my spot at the table and take small bites of my stale bread and sip my warm milk. As usual, I am the last one up and my mom isn't too happy about it. My dad and brother one by one leave to finish getting ready, leaving my mom and I alone.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" she barks, "You sleep in, don't bother to change before you come to breakfast and think you have all the time in the world! We barely have any bread to sell! People will start showing up in 20 minutes! You need to start working on the dough!" I hold back tears because this will make her even angrier. I take a deep breath and slip by her quickly, but not fast enough. She grasp my by the arm and smacks me across my face with her dish towel. Then she gives shove towards my room. I run upstairs and shut my door. I slip into a purple, ruffled dress, pink tights, and brown shoes. Then slink out of my room and wait outside the bathroom door. A few minutes later, my brother who is closest to my age, Peeta, emerges. He immediately notices the growing red mark on my cheek. He wets a washcloth and tenderly holds it to the welt.
"You just need to be careful around her sometimes," he says in a calm soothing voice. The gives me a hug, places the cloth in my hands and walks to the kitchen. I walk into the bathroom, brush my air and put it in two ponytails. I press the cloth to my cheek on last time, put it in the laundry and walk to the kitchen. My three brothers and sitting at the table talking about sports and girls from school. They are all very close in age. Gage, who wakes me up every morning, is the oldest at 15. Asher is 13 and pretty much hates me. Finally, Peeta is 12 and my only brother who seems to really like me. I'm only 7 and my mother makes it clear that my birth was by accident.
Like every morning, I stand by the counter and watch the boys talk. On most mornings, one of the boys will get irritated with me standing their looking at them and either lets me sit on their lap and be a part of the conversation or they would tell me to go away. This morning, its Gage who gets angry quickly and lets me crawl up and sit on him. They are on to talking about some teacher at their school, so I sit their staring blankly out the window the displays our back yard.
Soon, Asher gets bored with the conversation and decides to start bothering me. He yanks on one of my pigtails and I whack his hand away. He laughs loudly, Gage smiles, and Peeta just roles his eyes. After a few minutes, our mom returns to make the lunch for the boys. We watch as she fills brown paper bags with two pieces of bread, a slice of cheese, a bit squirrel meat, and half an apple. She hands me the remaining piece of apple for me to munch on and walks through the door that separates our house from the family bakery. Gage lifts me off his lap and reaches for his bag. Asher and Peeta follow him and I watch as they exit and walk down the dirt road leading to their school. I wish I could go to school. Until I turn 8, I'm stuck here in the bakery. I take a deep breath and walk through the door to the bakery, counting down the days until I start school.