Chapter Two
Goodbyes
Silence.
I don't breathe. I don't move a muscle. I am not here.
"Briar Oakroot!" she repeats, a little louder.
Heads turn and necks crane. The crowds look for a glimpse of the girl who has spared them for another year. Whispering begins, the hushed voices creeping under my skin, buzzing more than the microphone static.
I stare straight ahead, eyes unblinking. Maybe if I stay perfectly still, no one will notice me, and it won't be real.
"Where are you, dear? Come on up!"
They're getting impatient. I'll have to go up to the stage soon, reveal myself, accept my fate, and shake Lulu Daybreak's perfectly manicured hand. I can't hide forever. But I can't move, either.
"Briar Oakroot!" A different voice, harsh and deep. It's a male Peacekeeper, standing on the other side of the rope. They must be checking their files, working out that I am in the section of sixteen year old girls. They know I'm here. The game is up, and a new one begins. One that I don't want to be a part of, but nevertheless have been selected to play.
"I'm here," I say. The girls around me gasp. They step back to let me through, wincing away as if I might contaminate them with my cursed luck.
"Come on, let's go," the Peacekeeper mutters, hurrying me to the edge of the section. I duck under the rope, and they escort me up to the stage. All the whispering has stopped, and I know without looking that all eyes are on me.
"Excellent! Come on up, dear!" Lulu trills.
I start to climb up to the stage, but trip on the final step.
"Whoops, careful there!" Lulu giggles. "Can't have you getting knocked down before the Games even begin!"
In the Capitol, this might draw a laugh. Silly little tribute, she can barely walk straight! She's bound to be hilarious in the arena, probably dead on the first day, if she can even make it that long!
And just like that, my back straightens. I refuse to be a laughing stock, one of the weaklings who gets picked off within minutes of the gong sounding. No. I hold my head high and walk to the centre of the stage. My legs do not tremble.
"Welcome, Briar Oakroot!" Lulu announces. She shakes my hand delicately, probably not wanting to dirty her dainty porcelain limbs. I haven't washed today, my dark skin still muddy from yesterday's work, and I left my unruly black hair loose around my shoulders, rather than braided like most of the other girls. Once upon a time my mother might have done that for me, but left to my own devices, I didn't see the point. There was no way they would call my name, Father tells us this year after year. Yet here I am.
"Next, our male tribute!" Lulu trills, leaving me in the centre of the stage and walking toward the second glass bowl. Her long green nails snatch up a folded scrap of paper, and she returns to the microphone.
I only have a second to ponder who my male counterpart might be. Maybe I already know him from school or the orchard. Maybe he's a friend of mine. Or maybe he's a perfect stranger. I hope for the latter, since there's a chance I'll have to kill him.
Lulu unfolds the paper and beams at the camera before she speaks. "Bracken Oakroot!"
"No!" I shriek.
The audience breaks into hushed conversation again. The similarity of our names is not lost on them.
"Oh my, that's not your brother, is it?" Lulu asks me, brimming with excitement.
I stare up at her expectant face, smug, wide-eyed, and smothered in dark indigo make up. I want to punch her so hard my knuckles go purple to match her stupid colour scheme. With every word she says, she is slowly tearing my family apart.
"Yes," I say, my stomach clenching. I didn't think I could feel any more ill than I already do, but as Bracken emerges from the crowd, the urge to vomit over the side of the stage is overwhelming. My head spins, and I see three Brackens climb up the steps instead of one.
"Yes, come on up, dear," Lulu says, practically dancing with excitement. Two siblings going into the Games to fight against each other—I bet she and the rest of the Capitol can hardly believe their luck.
Bracken trips on the last step too, but I am there to catch him. I embrace him so tightly it would take an army to make me let go. He buries his face in my shoulder, not wanting the camera to see the tears I feel sinking through my shirt. My poor baby brother.
"No!"
I look up. The crowd separates again as someone else forces their way through. Chester.
"I volunteer!" he shouts, charging up on stage and embracing us both. In my state of shock, my grip slackens, and Chester takes this opportunity to seize Bracken up and carry him off the stage, planting him firmly on solid ground.
"You're not taking our little brother," he says decisively, climbing back up. Then he hugs me again, and this time I am the one who buries my face into his shoulder, scrunching my face up and trying not to let the tears escape.
"My, my, my!" Lulu exclaims. I had all but forgotten we were being watched. "What an exciting and emotional reaping this has been!" She giggles like a child. "So, District Eleven now has its two tributes, Briar Oakroot and Chester Oakroot!"
The crowd applauds. Chester's sacrifice will not go unrewarded. In a district with such large, tight-knit families, volunteering is not unheard of, but it doesn't happen often. I know that in our absence, my father and Bracken will be showered with spare food or extra rations, District 11's traditional way of celebrating such brave offspring. Not that our family will appreciate it much—rather a growling stomach than two dead kids, after all.
When Lulu finally manages to usher us to the Justice Building, I break down within seconds of the front doors slamming, and bawl like a baby. Chester keeps his arm around me and tells me everything will be okay, and Lulu just looks confused.
"There's no need to cry, Briar!" she says. "Being chosen as tribute is a great honour. You should be pleased that you got so lucky. You're going to be part of an amazing piece of history!"
Were it not for Chester's supportive grip, I might have lashed out and finally punched her right then. But that would probably get me arrested, and besides, I'm going to need her guidance once we get to the capitol, so I keep my hands to myself and my mouth shut.
Normally each tribute would be ushered into a separate room to say their goodbyes, but under the circumstances, Chester and I are allowed to stay together. Father and Bracken are led inside by two Peacekeepers, and it's all I can do not to fall straight into their arms.
"I'm so sorry," Bracken says, tears still streaming down his face. He has no need to pretend to be brave now. He's safe for another year, thanks to Chester's sacrifice.
"Hey, it's not your fault," Chester says, stooping down to his level. "I couldn't just sit there and do nothing, could I?" He ruffles Bracken's hair.
Father turns to me, but his eyes are unable to meet mine. "Briar, I... I'm sorry too."
"You weren't to know," I say, looking at the ground. "I guess the odds just weren't in our favour."
Tears glisten in his eyes as he reaches out to embrace all three of us. My family, together for the very last time.
"Okay, let's go." A group of Peacekeepers storm in, breaking up our moment. "The train is ready to leave."
Father pulls back, nods at each of us. He looks as though he has something meaningful or emotional to say, but, "Good luck, kids," is all he manages. I guess old habits die hard.
I share one last hug with Bracken, and then Chester and I are escorted out into the square. Since the ceremony in the field is over, most people will have returned to their homes with relief, grateful for another year to spend with their children, but a small crowd has gathered to wave us goodbye.
"Good luck!"
"You can do this!"
"We'll make sure your family have everything they need, okay?"
"You're both so brave!"
Hollers of support from neighbours, workmates, and friends from school (more Chester's than mine). People I will probably never see again, because no matter how brave I pretend to be, there is no way I could kill my own brother, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else do it instead. Chester will win these Games, and come back here a victor. He's the one everyone likes best, anyway. Dying for him would be the bravest thing I could possibly do.
He keeps his arm around me as we wave to our district. Then, taking one last breath of nostalgic summer air, we board the train to the Capitol.