Its times like these that I wish my mind would just focus on a single thing or simply shut off. Here I am just trying to smile and nod and my science partners weekend tirades but I can't stop thinking about how my little brothers are handling their first week at school.
I can literally feel how idiotic I look….
My brothers and I are originally from District 10, but when our Mum died our father went a little mad and killed himself and we couldn't stay there with memories like those looming over us. Yes, I say father….Dad implies a man who cares for his children and loves them unconditionally. His name was Brian, he wasn't a completely bad guy, don't get me wrong, I suppose he taught me how to be strong and he was well respected in our community. He disliked children, unknown to Mum and he only had us with her because she wanted children….he adored her completely; we were just the hassle he endured to show his love and please her.
My Mum was named Ann and she on the other hand was the most giving, affectionate and kind mother any child could ask for. She looked a lot like me except she was so much more beautiful….she was my idol in every way. She died saving my father from one of the bulls we tended back in District 10, he was distracted yelling at me for not trying harder to get in the 'higher society' of our district…..basically he heard the Mayors son asked me on a date and I declined, this was a disgusting thing to my father who was always one for statuses. Anyway whilst he was distracted slapping me across the face for my despicable deed he didn't notice the bull charging for him, he thought my shout was just a scream of pain.
It was a pain I was well adjusted too….
My Mum ran over and pushed him aside and was trampled in front of mine and fathers eyes… I was devastated.
My older brother was away on a date that morning…..mother helped him with his hair and recommended sweet nothings he could tell his date, he was so embarrassed…..and my two younger brothers were at school, she and I made their lunches together today and I watched as she cut their sandwiches into the shape of a love-heart and placed her 'have a fun day my love' notes in each of their boxes. So many small signs of affection I took for granted without even realising it.
Every glorious memory I had and shared with my mother come flooding back as I watched her skull cave in under the bulls hoof.
I couldn't do anything.
I looked at my father who was breaking down, trying to piece the remains of my mum back together praying he'd wake up…and I simply dropped to my knees. I heard her voice in my head, felt her holding my hand, smelt her sweet honey scent, she was next to me telling me I needed to snap out of it, be strong and make her proud. I would.
Just not yet. I couldn't seem to feel any of my limbs in order to go comfort the man in front of me.
I didn't need to wait long for him to turn his attentions. He looked at me with so much pure emotion I had to shrink away from his gaze; I could feel where that look was heading….
The absolute grief and hate held within his dark eyes had me tensing my muscles ready for the impact sure to come, and it came with a bang. He strode over to me purposefully covered in my mother's blood…..
"THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT!" Strike one followed suit….. "WHY COULD YOU NOT JUST LEAVE ME ALONE TO WORK! I COULD HAVE HANDLED THAT FUCKING BULL! BUT NO YOU JUST HAD TO COME DOWN HERE AND BEG FOR SOME WORK….YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING…." He seemed to have forgotten that he dragged me down here to clean out the muck and tend to the pregnant cow we owned. There was also no begging involved, he demanded I drop out of school to help him so he could spend more time with mum since I was very good with the animals, being with him made mother happy, I would never had denied her that…so I did. But this seems to leak from his mind as he was beating on me.
His insults became quiet murmurs in my ears although the village could probably hear him with how loud he screamed at me. I just silently let the tears flow down my cheeks and took the beating he gave. Each strike harder than the last. I felt my lower lip bust and could fell my nose was bleeding heavily, yet I felt nothing, I was numb outside and the only agony I felt was in my heart. This was fathers' way of dealing with it then so be it, he didn't have her talk to him after she left her body and I did.
Ha, she loved me more arsehole…..
When he calmed down he told me to help me bury her, made me carry my own mothers' limp and distorted body to the place they met. After a 10 minutes' walk we arrived and began digging a grave for her, well I did whilst he sat there cradling her. Once she was in the ground he went to change and tell the authorities of her death so I didn't see him for a while. I cleaned myself up too because with that man gone I would be left to break the news to my brothers.
I was the most heart-breaking thing I have ever seen and hope ever will see in my life. I waited until all three of my brothers returned. I had to bat away their initial concerns over my injuries and I told them everything. Their cries were heart wrenching and I joined them in mourning our beautiful mother. I then took them to the place she was buried and watched with my older brother holding me as our younger siblings decorated her grave with small delicate flowers, tears rolling down their faces as they did so.
My big brother decided to stay and talk to mum for a while so I took the boys home and put them to bed, singing them mummy's lullaby as they fell into s deep sleep.
I walked into our small garden and saw my father standing there, liquor in hand. His last slurred words to me were "those kids in there were you mothers pride and joy, you better fucking take care of them girl…..especially after you caused all this…." With that message of blame and obligation he smashed the bottom of the bottle and stabbed himself in the temple. Ultimately killing himself to be with his love again.
As you would probably guess, here is where I broke down. I had seen both my parents die that day in two gruesome and horrific ways. My brother walked in at this point to see me hyperventilating and spent the next three hours attempting to get me out of my stupor and to calm down. Eventually I did remembering my mum's words to be brave and I carried another one of my parents bodies to their resting place where they lay side my side to this day.
My brothers couldn't look at anything without a memory hurting them so I decided to move that day. My older brother agreed and he found a job in District 12 that night as a butcher, coming from a farming district it wasn't too hard for him and was accepted right away to start in a week.
It's been two weeks since that traumatic day. I'm ashamed that my father would wait to give me those haunting last words before he took that coward's way out. Not because of what he said but because what if one of the children came down at that moment and witnessed that; another show of how little he cared. The kids weren't as upset over our father's death as they saw how much he hit me. I was the girl that needed toughening up you see. My older brother Daniel was old enough to fight back and would have, and I threatened to tell mum if he laid a finger on the lilttlens. But it was still a lot to lose two parents in less than 36 hours.
We sold our house, land and livestock so we have a healthy sum of money to live on without much struggle and we now live in the cloudy district 12. The boys seem to be doing better here, a lot better than expected.
Matthew, who has just turned 10 can finally sleep without me curled beside him and George, who is 13, can now look at our parents wedding photo with only a few silent tears falling instead of a complete crying session. I can still hear them whimpering at night…this is always my cue to go and sing my mother's lullaby.
All this is what has led me up to today, trying to focus on my first day at school (due to Daniels persistence) and not letting anyone see any of the pain I'm feeling. The last thing I need is to be the new girl and be called the emo or something. The girl I am walking with now is my new science partner who has to get me up to speed on things as the school thinks I'm an idiot because I dropped out.
Actually, no, you stupid judgemental school, Daniel home schooled me when he had the time…stupid school treating me like I'm 9…urgh.
Anyway, she is a very sweet and bubbly girl so I am trying to laugh at the right times and am smiling through her ramblings. Her name is Delly and I am hoping she'll stick near me until I'm comfortable enough to walk around on my own. The stares are piercing.
"So, what's your next class?" Delly smiles at me, breaking me out of my inner ramblings. Damn I did it again…
"Umm… it says Art in this box…am I reading this right?" Way to sound intelligent you clown…I need to get my crap together and prove myself after today and I can't even understand a damn timetable!
Delly gently laughs it off and instantly I feel at ease. "Its ok let me see…hmm… yeah, you do. Oh that's Peeta's class!"
Who is this Peeta?...
"That's perfect! I was dreading leaving you alone to fend for yourself" she jokes with a wink "Peeta is really nice and he'll look after you this lesson. OK?" she asks me with that megawatt smile.
"I don't want to be a hassle Delly…" I try to protest but she cuts me off.
"There is no hassle involved at all, you look like you could use a friend."She says softly. I try to swallow the lump in my throat and beat back the tears forming in my eyes; she has no idea how right she is. I genuinely smile this time and nod my head gratefully as she motions the direction we need to go.
We stop in front of a light blue, glossy door with a laminated piece of card stating that this is the 'Art and Design' room. I am suddenly nervous about entering here and Delly gently squeezes my hand for comfort.
"Ok, we're here." She says "I am going to quickly come in and introduce you to Peeta before I go to languages and I'll meet you at this very spot afterwards OK?" She looked me in the eye the entire time as she spoke and I can feel her words are filled with genuine concern and care, so I nod and smile.
"Good! Now let's go meet Peeta!" Delly laughs as she opens that blue door….