WHG Prompt Two
Tyde Westbrook - District 9
The crowd filtered around Tyde as he craned his neck over the rush of heads searching for one in particular. He didn't choose his direction. Instead letting himself be pushed through by peacekeepers or classmates. He didn't dare shout, wouldn't trust his voice to make it over the crowd.
And even if it did... who's to say whether it would help or not? A reply as likely to be lost in an echo with no hopes of gleaning a direction.
Instead he stood on his toes with his hands pressed to his side. Kids in a myraid of ages swirling around him. Fabrics and buttons and arms pressing into him as friends and loved ones were searched for.
He sighed a little, the muscles in his legs straining from his reach over the crowd.
Castor wasn't anywhere to be found.
It had been his hope to find him before the rush of people and potential tributes trying to find their places on the town square started. But the youngest of his sisters had stalled him. Had ripped a seem in the shoulder of her dress and instead of simply pinning it like the others had suggested he'd taken the time to stitch it together properly. Had given up his extra allowance of time, and then some.
He'd been one of the last to the square and make it through the checkpoint. His finger still stung from the blood sample they'd taken to confirm his identity.
The crowd around him shuffled into neat rows around him, and Tyde settled in his place. Everything was about to start. He'd run out of time.
It didn't matter really, he supposed. He'd find Castor after. Or Castor would find him.
And he'd invite Castor and his family to join his own for a dinner after everything was over. After the capital had said their piece and three unfortunate souls were to be pulled away to meet a terrible fate.
He wouldn't consider that it could be him. Or Castor. Or Castor's sister, which would surely equal Castor volunteering himself into the games to save her.
No. They'd all be safe.
And Tyde would offer condolences to the families that were left behind. Would offer anecdotes of any times spent together in school or play. Would offer prayers.
But his family. And Castor's too. They'd all be safe.
And he'd find himself grateful.
The anthem played loudly over the districts speakers and Tyde cut his gaze over to the stage just as the capital representative took the stage. He watched them, or rather. He watched the three glass orbs that contained the names of all of the children of an eligable age in the district.
The glass shone in the light, an almost beautiful thing if not dampened by the grim faces standing all around. Only the representative wore a smile. The peacekeepers faces were hidden behind their helmets, but Tyde imagined for a moment they were smiling too. Welcoming the events to come.
Something changed in the air. A sudden shift. A quick hush fallen over the crowd that had been abuzz with various chatter moments before.
If not for the speakers, you might've been able to hear a pin drop.
The only thing Tyde could hear was his own heartbeat thundering loudly in his chest as he rubbed his sweaty palm on the leg of his pants.
The representative mouthed words that Tyde couldn't make out. Surely they'd actually spoken. Their voice carried over the crowd just the same as the anthem had before.
Tyde glanced around for a moment, checking the faces around him. Looking for any sign that he wasn't the only unhearing.
Perhaps there was something wrong with the microphone?
His heart didn't really beat that loudly.
He dug a fingernail into the side of his thumb, just a little. Not enough to wound or bleed. Just enough to feel it. To try and ground himself for a moment.
The crowd shuffled as a name was called. Then shuffled once more with a second. The representative's hands dipping and swirling in the large glass globes.
And then Tyde seen him.
Castor.
He stood in the center aisle. Tall and proud. Tyde could just make out his head around the crowd and the two peacekeepers at Castor's side escorting him to the stage.
And Tyde's ears were no longer flooded with his own heart beat. No. Instead every sound came back to him at once. The whispers of the crowd as they considered the names that had been offered up. Almost as if they were discussing an animal, tempermant and value. Instead of human beings. Children. A sigh of relief escaping from some, as they weren't yet among the chosen. Closer and closer to being safe for another year. A shouted sob.
A voice Tyde would swear he knew. Or at least he would know, if he could register anything but Castor's head walking away from him.
Tyde swallowed and nearly choked. His throat tight and suddenly sore. Dry.
He didn't think not for a second before he stepped out into the aisle behind him.
"I volunteer," he said, his voice painfully high pitched. Almost a squeak. His hand tightened into a fist at his side and he tried again, the words leaving his throat just as Castor turned back to face him. Just as Castor turned to him with a horrified pleading look.
Tyde knew that look. Could understand it even if there were no words.
Go back to your place. Don't you dare. Step back and let me go.
"I volunteer as tribute."
He never was quite one to listen.