Brooke Langston, a determined and resourceful young woman, volunteers as tribute to spare a sickly little girl who holds a special place in her heart. Little does she anticipate that her closest friend, Ray Adhira, would also be chosen, forcing them...
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"A volunteer! Oh, goody! Come, child! Come up here!"
Maddox looked delighted at the change in events, Brooke heard the broken whispers and gasps of the crowd around her.
Many, many people knew Brooke Langston, she could already tell without looking at any of them that they were all horrified. She was liked and loved by her District, she would be the last person they would want up there on the stage.
"Brooke. What are you doing?" a small voice came from behind her in the aisleway.
Suzie stood there absolutely shocked, you could tell from her vibrating body and wide eyes she was confused as to what was happening, but behind the very present fear, Brooke's heart warmed when she saw the little girl's eyes flicker with hope.
"Go back to your square Susie," Brooke told her.
The Peacekeepers were shifting, wondering if they should force the girl along. One stepped out from guarding Susie's square and gently took the girl by the arm.
Brooke wondered what gentle Peacekeeper was beneath that mask.
"But-" Susie looked like she wanted to protest, tell Brooke to run and hide and not sacrifice everything for her.
Brooke wouldn't have listened anyway.
"Susie," she caught the girl's attention, "Everything is going to be okay."
The Peacekeeper pulled the shocked girl away and Brooke turned to face the stage.
Her eyes were trained on the podium at the center of her vision, she did not want to look at her loved ones just yet, she knew the pain she had just succumbed them to, but she couldn't break now.
It was deathly silent as she walked to the stage. The only sound was the footfalls of her dust-covered sandals on the cracked earth.
She could feel the eyes of a thousand people on her back, but no one talked, no one whispered.
The kind soul of District Four, a protector, a helper, a healer, and a beautiful angel were all words to describe the charity and warmth Brooke brought with her. She had touched the hearts of her family, her friends, schoolmates and teachers, shop owners and citizens, poor and rich, careers or beggars, politicians and fishermen alike.
No one would have wished to see this moment, Brooke Langston walking on her own two feet towards a death sentence. Brooke had no enemies, there was no malice in the sadness that had befallen the square.
She tried not to look at her family as she crossed to the left set of stairs on the stage. They were right there, only a few feet away, crowded together behind the rope barrier, agony, and shock most likely painted on their faces.
As she turned and took tall striding steps up the stairs she could hear the continuation of soft sobbing coming from Dorothea, but her daughter was no longer in danger, at least for this year.
