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CHAPTER TWO
II. FIRST ME, THEN YOU, NOW HIM
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A WAVE of children walked shoulder to shoulder to the front of the empty stage. All wore old and tattered grey clothing, as though it were uniform to dress in such a depressing style. Among them, like a heavy cloud, peacekeepers engorged by white padding and dark tinted masks shoved children and adults aggressively.
The sun was beaming down on the flatlands, burning the skin of those in District 9 to a crisp. It was a few past mid-day and the temperature would continue to rise from that point. Tired farmers and people of similar professions wiped the sweat from their foreheads, fanning out their shirts in rapid motions.
Diana neared her two brothers who had been separated during the check-in, engulfing them in hugs. The oldest coughed in a fit, doing his best to conceal the fatigue in his body while the youngest held a solemn expression.
Radley nudged the girl, nodding in a direction across from them. "Dad's over there, he barely made it."
The Keene's father was monotonous to the other men near him. His dark black hair held grey streaks and his tan face matched the color of his muscular arms. He stood at average height but had a slight limp to his left side when he moved from a plowing incident in the fields years ago.
But what differentiated the man from the others was not the crow's feet around the corners of his eyes, yet the color. They were a deep blue. The blue that resembled the depths of the oceans or the shade of the hydrangea that could pop up every once in a while.
Diana was at peace at the sight of him. Unfortunately, the tranquil thoughts were disrupted at the screech of a microphone. A man, drenched in lavender, stood in the center of the stage. On his face, Capitol makeup was caked, making his pointed cheekbones evident, and an exaggerated white smile was plastered on his face.
His name was Roman Sparks, an escort from the Capitol. His presence was immensely flamboyant, making it easy to overlook the mayor and his less than extravagant attire.
The mayor for District 9 gave homage to Panem's history and explained the rules of the Hunger Games, pretending as though no one had heard of this yearly event. As tradition every year, he repeated the phrase," It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." Of course, he read only one name of the past victors of District 9, Ceres Bellberg.
The scene was far from dismal, as it was scorching hot and no one could focus with the heat that raged onto them. Finally, the mayor transitioned into introducing Roman Sparks with a clearly apathetic smile.
"Well hello, it's quite a pleasure to be with Panem's leading provider of grain! From us at the Capitol to you, we'd like to thank you for your wonderfully delicious bread." Roman laughed to himself among the silence of the crowd. "Let's get to it shall we? Oh, and may the odds be ever in your favor..," he laughed again, almost in a deranged and delusional way that appeared as though, for a moment, he was mocking us. He was... he was excited.
"Ladies first!" Roman strolled to a large glass bowl with hundreds of paper strips inside.
As his shoes clicked on the cement on top the podium, both Atticus and Radley slipped their hands into Diana's, squeezing tightly enough to feel their rapid pulses.
Grinning from ear to ear, Roman pulled one piece out, returning to the microphone with the tap of his heels. Clearing his throat his voice boomed. "Our first lucky tribute is... Diana Keene."
Suddenly, Diana was aware of her own breathing and the fact her eyes were wide and lip quivering in fear. Waving to come forward, her feet moved out steadily and only did with much force. Radley had softly let go of her hand, whereas Atticus refused to let go.
"Come up here my darling, we won't bite," Roman spoke.
"Atti, you have to let go," Diana whimpered to the petrified boy.
He refused. Her eyes softened, she could feel the anguish radiate.
A man in a suit yanked her hand away and the female trudged up the steps with peacekeepers preventing her from running back and easing Atticus.
Facing the sea of people Diana had grown up with, she kept a still face, blinking as needed to blockade the tears. "My oh my, what a beautiful young tribute we have this year!" Roman complimented through the tension.
"Now, for the gentlemen this afternoon," he continued.
Diana had locked eyes with her father, seeing the sadness flood from his eyes onto his cheeks. "Radley Keene."
A buzzing in her ear became unbarring as the world halted around her. Her gaze was far from her father now and on her eldest brother. How could this have happened? This was his final year; he shouldn't have been chosen.
In a composed style only Radley could have pulled off, he found his way to the clearing which divided the two masses in the middle. The peacekeepers hoarded around him, gripping him firmly on his back.
Diana could sense in the corner of her eye movement from where Radley had once stood. She looked. He wasn't there anymore. Not Radley, Atticus.
Lunging forward, Diana screamed his name in a frenzy. This outburst made Radley turn in pursuit of the sight of his brother.
He stood in the pathway.
"I volunteer," he stated, hesitantly.
"Shut up, Atticus! Shut up!" Radley was bellowing, trying to unfold from the peacekeepers' hold.
Diana shrieked his name, knowing it was of no use as more peacekeepers swarmed the brunette.
"I volunteer," Atticus said with a more confident tone than the first.
