Good-bye

I wait with anticipation as the phone rings. He may not have made it home yet. That or he is angry with me for father's rash actions. I impatiently tap my hand against the wall as the phone continues to ring. After the sixth ring, I disappointedly hang up the phone and pace the room. I have never felt so defeated in my life.

Anxiously, I cross back to the phone and redial his number. Again, the call does not go through. I just do not know what to do. Panic. Heavy footfalls sound from the ceiling, my parents are undoubtedly returning to the parlor. They cannot find me. I need to be invisible. In less than a day, my world has turned upside down. The steps get louder, and I know that I am moments away from a confrontation. Where to go, where to go.

Instinctively, I flee the parlor. Making a sharp turn, I fling open the door to a hall closet and squeeze into a gap in the bottom. The door has small slits that I use to observe the scene. Seconds later, father comes into the parlor. He silently searches the room.

"She is not down here," he calls up to mother, "Check her room."

"We would have heard her come up," mother answers back almost inaudibly.

Father pushes the couch aside, looking around the room. Valuable trinkets crash to the ground and break. He pays little attention to the decimation of our home, continuing to search with an insistent eye. The phone rings. As if surprised, he pauses. Then he picks up the receiver.

"Hello?" he barks.

I give an involuntary gasp. It has to be Seneca. Of course, he would call me right back. Father's tone changes.

"Where are you?"

Mother calls down the steps, "Is it Effie?"

Father places one hand over the receiver, "No. It is Alfie."

Alfie! Alfie is calling the house. He must know that we were looking for him. My surprise just causes more questions. I decide to remain hidden and hear the rest of the conversation.

"What are you doing in 2?" asks father.

I wait with baited breath.

"Well, that is very noble of you son, but do you not believe that your talents would be put to better use here in the Capitol? District 2 has little to offer a person of your status."

An uncomfortable silence followed.

"Look, if you do not come back to the Capitol, I will not associate with you any further. You are an adult. Being an adult, you should make good decisions. Then have it your way. I have no son."

He hung up the phone with a slam. My hand went over my mouth in shock. I knew that father was mad, but never did I believe that he would disown us. Father had always been so fun when we were children. He changed when we won the betting pool, refusing to smile in front of anyone. The epitome of a miser.

"Effie!" he yelled throughout the house.

Oh, right. He is looking for me. To send me away. Now more than ever, I decided hiding would prove beneficial. Perhaps I could sneak upstairs and talk to mother. Surely, she would not throw a fit. Father perked his head up. He left the house immediately.

I took my chance. I rushed out of the closet, breaking the door in the process. I stomped up the stairs, falling on the second and cutting my knee. With a grimace, I threw open mother's bedroom door and entered. She sat at her vanity, applying a thick slab of make-up to her panicked face.

"Effie!" she gasped.

"Mother, this is getting out of hand. Father just disowned Alfie. Surely, you do not condone his unacceptable behavior," I explain.

Mother takes in my agitation with distress.

"I do not know what to do," she tries to answer; "I care for you and your brother more than anything. But, he is gone. He left and there is nothing that I can do for him in District 2."

"What about me, mother?" I shout in exasperation, "You are going to let father shut me away? He is trying to cast me away, too. If you truly cared for me, you would help."

"Effie, there is something wrong with you. As of late, your behavior has become unpredictable. I am so worried about, darling," she stood up from the vanity.

"Please help me," I began to weep into her hair as she met me in an embrace.

"I wish we could all get out," she whispered quietly.

I did not understand her words. Suddenly, I could hear the front door open. I broke away from the embrace quickly, and headed for the door. I put one hand on the knob and shot mother a farewell glance. She looked hurt, but with a knowledge of understanding.

"I know you will do the right thing. I will always love you."

"Good-bye."

At that moment, I knew. That there was nothing I could do. Desperately, I headed toward my bedroom and grabbed a few key belongings. A picture of my family, my wig, the letter Seneca had sent with the flowers. I left the room quickly and took a small staircase down to the kitchen. Then, I took the back door out of the house.