~needlework~ [rade]

[sbeeg]

Sarita Wolfe

Give me hope in silence
It's easier; It's kinder
Tell me not of heartbreak
It plagues my soul, plagues my soul

Nimble fingers took a hold of the thin, metal needle pressing it through the cloth in tiny, straight stitches. Nothing fancy today, just work. Sarita preferred to embroider designs with complicated loops and knots that ended up working together to make the perfect picture. Chain stitches to make stems for flowers, coral stitches for snow- no the girl was stuck with straight stitches today. Awfully boring things, nothing unique nothing about them. Nothing to challenge her with. Just two pieces of fabric being brought together in the same repetitive way. Push, pull, push pull. No loops or flowers, just lines.

For a building nicknamed The Coldhouse it certainly wasn't very cold. The heat only added to Sarita's boredom, hanging over her like some doting mother. Oh wait, that wasn't the air it was her actual parent. The girl would never say it aloud but she felt smothered by Caroline Wolfe's presence. She was always critiquing her work, breathing down her neck and watching over her shoulder. Not to boast or anything, but Sarita was very confident in her sewing abilities. She had been doing it since she could first hold a needle and followed her mother's lessons to the last detail. However, Aria's work was a different story. It was horrid! Crooked stitches that were way too big that Sarita had to end up pulling out and redoing. Her sister couldn't sew a straight line, much less any of the embroidery Sarita has put out.

Perhaps mother is bring up Aria as a free range child- Sarita hears they sell for more money. That's what she felt like, a poor trapped animal waiting to be sold. She knew it was coming, mother had mentioned it a few times before. Sarita was almost out of the Reaping's reach and once she was it would only be a matter of time before mother stuck her with some man to be locked up in his own version of The Coldhouse. The girl didn't feel like there was much of anything she could do about it, just sit here by the window, looking out on the District as the citizens milled about their own business. Sewing. Stitching. Waiting. Dying. That's how she was raised, to be perfect and she was.

The perfect petite talking Sarita doll- for a limited time only. The plain, tedious stitches went on forever, like train tracks by the Station. Sarita had only seen them once in person and sometimes they'e on the TV during the Reaping. They go into the horizon, crossing the earth for as far as she could see. She wanted more than anything to get on the tribute train and see were those tracks ended. See if there were Coldhouses anywhere else and maybe she could free the bored, beautiful girls from each one she came across.

Her daydreaming took away from her work, leaving the needle halfway pushed through the cloth. Her eyes were focused on something outside the building, the district, the country. Something only she could see. Lost in her self made fantasy, the Coldhouse seemed to fade away leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. A place that she often chose to occupy in the stead of the reality around her. It was much softer, brighter and out of this retched house where, as far as Sarita was concerned, was paradise.

[charade]

[color=[plum]Caroline Wolfe

[/color][/size]


In the night I hear them talk,
The coldest story ever told,[/color][/center]
It had been a trying day thus far, and the altercation at breakfast had left a bad taste in Caroline's mouth. The boy was up to his shenanigans again, and was clearly trying to turn her Aria against her. Poisoning the poor girls mind with defiance and who knew what else. Did they think she wanted to hurt him? He had been challenging her authority, and in front of one of her children to boot. She had to.

As it was, Aria occasionally snuck out of the house, getting into trouble that her mother could only imagine. It didn't matter what they didn't like, she had a duty as their only parent to keep them safe. And Safe she had kept them. Years had gone by and even with five children, none of them had ever had the misfortune to be reaped. Perish the thought. Work had been strenuous over the course of the day, but now that it was the late afternoon, she could get home and relax; perhaps the kids would be more endearing after getting to do things.

Striding into the house, she first checked to make sure that the kitchen was clean, before clomping upstairs to look for her children. She just felt like she was slowly losing them. One an invalid, one seeing someone against her wishes, and another intent on giving her grey hairs. Sarita's door was cracked open, so she pushed on it lightly to see what her darling daughter was up to. Hardly holding back a smile, Carol saw that her eldest girl was doing something quite normal and decent for a young lady of her upbringing. Embroidery. A wonderful pastime. Caroline herself had done that many times as a youth.

Walking in, Carol swept her daughter up in a hug, stroking her hair with one hand."Sari, its nice to see you doing something respectable. You haven't turned on my like some of your siblings. You are my favorite after all." Releasing Sarita, she sat on the edge of her daughters bed and adopted a thin smile."What else have you been up to? Anything interesting happen at school? Any... boys?"This child knew better than to keep anything from her, and it was rare that she found herself mad at Sarita. How could she get mad at her little princess?

"How could you be so heartless?"

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[sbeeg]

Sarita Wolfe

And bury me beside you
I have no hope
In solitude

The lone parent of this pack of children came swooping in so fast, Sarita didn't even know she was in the room until it was too late. The woman's arms locked around her, dragging the girl up from her chair and away from the window. Sarita's cheek was pressed against her mother's collar bone, a bony hand running through her auburn hair. The girl felt like she was being smothered or strangled or being taken prisoner somewhere. "Sari, its nice to see you doing something respectable. You haven't turned on my like some of your siblings. You are my favorite after all." The girl felt unsure in her mother's arms. Shouldn't a parent love of all of their children equally? That's what Sarita had always thought, but her mother must be an exception.

This wasn't the first time she had been pronounced the favorite but still it made her uneasy. However, the girl didn't let these feelings show through, a simple "Yes, mother," was all she said. That's all she ever said because that's all anyone wanted to hear.

She was freed from the prison of her mother's embrace and once again air filled her lungs and her eyes drifted to the window but only for a moment. Mrs Wolfe had not left yet, actually she had taken a seat on her daughter's bed. The dreaded sign that'd she'd be here for longer than Sarita really felt comfortable with. However, the girl sat gracefully down beside her mother- it was not ladylike to loom over a guest in one's room. Straightening her skirt over her knees, Sarita listened carefully to her mother like a proper daughter ought to do.

"What else have you been up to? Anything interesting happen at school? Any... boys?" Of course she was doing things, Sarita had all kinds of thoughts running through her head. All the daydreams she had just been pondering, the fabric she had sewn. At school they had done many things- learned more about cross stitching, did multiplication tables and were subjected to yet another speech about the generosity of the Capitol. There were many boys Sarita knew too, some handsome some not. Some were clever, some shy and some were even scary. Sarita occasionally saw a few looking at her, and she'd spoken to them and of course she preferred certain boy's company over other's. However, this was too much information to burden her mother with. Adults had important things to do, or so Sarita was told.

"No, not really," Sarita said lightly, dismissing all of her opinions as they did not matter. She had come to realize that over the years- the less one talks the more one is liked, or so it seemed. So, the girl spoke little, her hands folded in her lap and her legs crossed at her ankles. Only then was she the perfection everyone wanted her to be.

[charade]

Caroline Wolfe


In the night I hear them talk,
The coldest story ever told,

[/color][/center]


Honestly, what did the girl have to worry about? Her mother was there to ensure that everything went according to plan. Not a single hair on her head would be harmed or fall astray. Sarita seemed to be the only one to fully grasp that the word of her mother was the law. The reprimands that came were only in the children's best interests; the sooner they learned that the happier they'd be. And if the weren't happy, then they weren't doing it right, because it was clear Caroline only showed love towards them. The nerve of that boy, the one that only continued to live in her home as a gesture of good will. Daring to complain and call her a control freak and a horrible excuse for a mother.

The things she had experienced in life were things she did not want them to experience as well. It's only too bad that Caroline could not understand that the lives of her children were far different from her own; she shouldn't have taken it upon herself to assume things would go wrong if her hands weren't in everything. They could be trusted to make their own decisions; or at the very least, in any other household they would. Not in the chilly hallways of the coldhouse. A loving parent she was, but one that tragically misread the situations over and over again. "No, not really." Carol nodded, and picked up a lonely brush, moving closer to Sari, and undoing her daughters hair, weaving the utensil through the strands. Grinning widely as she did so.

"Well Sweetie. I was talking to Mr. Bailey today, you know, that kindly gentlemen with the beard? I do believe he's interested in you..."The brush went through again."Of course, we'd have to wait until you turn eighteen for a wedding, but can you imagine? He's the man in charge of a prestigious factory! You'd be set for life, money for everything you could want, and giving me healthy grandchildren to boot." Stroking her daughters hair, she turned her towards the mirror."Your hair looks so much nicer when its been combed out... Oh, Mr. Bailey might even stop by for lunch tomorrow, Isn't that exciting?" She poked Sarita in the ribs with an elbow. "You might even get to be on a first name basis with Pete."

"How could you be so heartless?"

[/size][/blockquote][/justify]

[sbeeg]

Sarita Wolfe

It plagues my soul,
plagues my soul

The brush. Sarita's mother used to brush her hair everyday and the girl had been so excited when that time came around. Caroline Wolfe had just gentle fingers that knew exactly what they were doing. They can put her auburn hair up into any which way she asked. Braids, buns, twists- you name it. She would beg her mother to do her hair before school so that when she arrived she might be able to catch the attention of the other kids at school. However things change when you grow up and that leap one had to make from childhood to become an adult was hard. Sarita didn't even believe she had made it yet.

She had tried, yes. Doing skilled needlework instead of the simple things she once did, learning more in school, and much to her mother's chagrin, doing her own hair. Just when Sarita thought she had landed on the other side of this deep chasm, her mother's arms yanked back. The girl used to love the feeling of the brush going through her hair, but now it felt like the thing was going to rip out her hair. Caroline's fingers going through her hair as if sorting through horded gems. However she didn't object, their mother had gone through a lot and the least she could do was let her comb her daughter's hair.

"Well Sweetie. I was talking to Mr. Bailey today..." That was all Sarita had to hear for the blood to drain from her face. The rest of the speech was white noise in her ear, some of the words slipping in through the thundering beat of her heart. "kindly gentlemen...interested in you..." Sarita's eyes were straight forward, her whole body stiff with desperation, confusion and plain fear. "wait until you turn eighteen for a wedding..." Wedding? Was she already engaged? Had her mother sold her off to Mr. Bailey? The mere thought of him made Sarita want to weep- he had to be twice her age! "...giving me healthy grandchildren to boot." Bile rose in the back of the girl's throat, her lips firmly pressed together to keep it there. Grandchildren? With that old thing? When her mother spoke of boys she thought she meant, well, boys not old men with factories and beards.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to yell at her mother for being so cruel, she wanted to meet Mr. Bailey for soul reason of smacking him the face. This wasn't how life was supposed to go- she was the favorite. The good girl gets the best match! The princess in the tower is saved by the handsome prince!

"Oh, Mr. Bailey might even stop by for lunch tomorrow, Isn't that exciting?" her mother's arm hit her in the side, making the girl jump and shrink away. Staring back at herself in the mirror, Sarita could see the agony in her own eyes. It was there, the pathetic hopeless face of a girl stuck in tower with no key. Maybe that princess didn't get to pick which prince saved her either... maybe she ended up with a Mr. Bailey. In that case, Sarita had been idolizing the wrong story for way too long. "You might even get to be on a first name basis with Pete."

"I can't," the words flew from her mouth before she could even think about stopping them. She had defied her mother! That was simply not done, she had to fix it. Slowly the words started to come out as the girl made them up, trying to make it sound honest as well. "I can't because... because I lied about there not being any boys. I... I can't talk with Mr. Bailey, that would be cheating."

Not the best lie she had ever come up with but it did the job. Sarita was amazed she managed to speak at all with her heart pounding in her temples and sweat gathering on her brow and in her palms. She guessed being in such a state of panic makes one quite resourceful. Sarita knew that if she didn't object she'd finish out her days stuck with Pete the bearded and that was something she would not do, not if she had the power to stop it. She had to go to the Capitol, explore the districts and meet her prince- someone that most definitely is not named Peter Bailey.

[charade]

Caroline Wolfe


In the night I hear them talk,
The coldest story ever told,

[/color][/center]


The smile that was plastered across her face quickly fell as her prized possession daughter mumbled that no, what she had just said was a falsehood, and that there was in fact a boy. Caroline stopped brushing Sarita’s hair and turned her around to look her dead in the eyes.“Sarita? Why would you lie to me? You have nothing to fear from your mother. So there is a boy. Well, what’s his name? Does he have a job? What does he look like?”But before her daughter could even reply, she waved away any words that could spring to mind.“Mr. Bailey will be so dreadfully disappointed. He does so like the way your eyes shine in the photographs I’ve shown him.”Her hand crept carefully up her daughters arm before resting on the shoulder, fingers digging in like little pincers made of steel.

“You do know that I know best don’t you? That ‘m only trying to ensure that you have a wonderful future beyond the horrible business of the Arena. There are boys out there Sarita, and there are men. Boys will entice you with whispers of sweet nothings and half-empty promises before bringing your dreams crashing down around you like they didn’t even matter. But men... men will take care of you, hold you when the chill creeps down your spine, and make promises that they intend to keep.” Carolines other hand found Sari’s remaining shoulder and pulled her in for a crushing hug. “I just want you to be happy... you may not see it that way right now, but you’ll thank me when you get older.”

She bent her head to brush her daughters ear with a cheek.“You love me right? You wouldn’t want to upset me? You’re not like the boy or your sister. You won’t go off on your own like Rajas. You saw what happened to Bran when he didn’t listen to me. I’m just your poor mother Sarita, trying to protect unruly children from the evils of the world.”Her grip tightened.“ I won’t lose any of you the way I lost your father. I swear it.”Releasing her child she made for the door.“Why don’t you bring this boy over tomorrow? I’m sure he can’t wait to meet me.” The door clicked shut and her footsteps retreated away.




[/size][/blockquote][/justify]

[sbeeg]

Sarita Wolfe

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

The second the girl felt her mother's hands freeze in her hair she knew what was coming. Like the distant rumble of thunder, Sarita felt the torrent coming deep in her bones and there was nothing she could do to prepare for it but keep a blank face. Fear trickled down the back of her throat as she felt herself being turned around, Caroline Wolfe's eyes staring into hers so that she could not look away. Icy eyes bore into her, reading her every thought and secret. Every lie she had told in her short lifetime. It was if she were a book, her pages being flipped and every word being consumed by those eyes as pale as ghosts. Sarita wondered what souls haunted them, but realized that she already knew. It was the same one that she carried with her like a shawl over her shoulders. The presence of her father was everywhere but it seems that his wife's eyes were where he rooted himself.

“Sarita? Why would you lie to me? You have nothing to fear from your mother." The girl squirmed under the intense gaze, feeling like nothing more than an ant cowering in the shadow of a boot. Suddenly this talking to morphed into an interrogation. Question after question inquiring after this boy Sarita couldn't possibly think about leaving for Mr. Bailey. Her mind raced trying to come up with a firm enough lie. Lyles Tywell? He seemed to fit her cause, besides she had often found herself admiring him from across the room. One time, while walking home from school he had even offered a wild flower he had picked from the few patches of vegetation in the District. That was the closest to having an intended Sarita had ever been.

She soon found that her lies concerning Lyles wouldn't need to be used after all. Her mother had moved on, leaving Sarita next to no time to catch up. “Mr. Bailey will be so dreadfully disappointed. He does so like the way your eyes shine in the photographs I’ve shown him.” Photographs? A chill settled across her skin. The thought of the man drooling over her picture was enough to tint her cheeks a pale green. Nails bit into her shoulder and Sarita was beginning to think that she would have to bolt from the room before being completed frightened, intimidating and disgusted.

Soon a speech filled the room about the differences between boys and men in. Sarita didn't really see the point to it. Men may take care of you, but all of them were at one time boys. Boys can grow up into the men her mother desired her to be with. Why should girls have to rely on men? Could Sarita not, of her own power, explore the world by herself? Yes, she might take a boy along with her and they could walk through the woods and see everything this mysterious country had to offer. The boy would take care of her and she would take care of him. They would live a life outside of the walls of the Coldhouse- even outside the fences of the District.

"but you’ll thank me when you get older.” Why does everyone have to be old to understand things? Maybe if if she had been let out into the world more often she would already know everything there needed to be known! Her world was full of contradictions!

Mother continued to babble, assuming all the wrong things about how Sarita felt. Love. Upset. Leave. Unruly. Had her mother really ever asked how she felt? Or since the Sarita had chosen to be polite and hide her emotions simply filled in her own preferences? The girl was faintly aware of her mother's embrace and then being let go. At the doorway her mother's eyes found her again. “Why don’t you bring this boy over tomorrow? I’m sure he can’t wait to meet me.”

Then she was gone, leaving Sarita alone with her thoughts. Slowly, the girl made for the window, placing a palm on the glass that separated her from everything. Wildflowers. People. Life. Everything. Barred by a thin piece of ice.