Tattooed

II

The morning of Branding Day I'm feeling considerably better. My stomach has settled and I'm just feeling a little shaky. The bus that will take everyone to the capitol arrives and my family and I board. My mother gets out of her seat for an elderly man and I see the words "what you stand for" appear on the back of her neck in tiny script. She gives me a knowing smile as she holds on the the pole in the middle of the bus. Elise sniffs in disdain and my dad swats her lightly.

I really can't imagine leaving these people.

We finally arrive at the Capitol. The building where the Branding takes place is beautiful. It is all glass and the sunlight seeps through creating beautiful designs on the floor. My parents head for the stands where those who are not being Branded watch. They are organized by stratum: the Cunning, Creative, Clement, Courageous, and the Colorless. Everyone is excited to see who will join their stratum. For seventeen years I’ve been in those stands with them, watching others be Branded and clapping happily when someone gets Clement. Now it’s my turn.

"I love you Cecil." my mother says before she joins my dad and sister. She kisses my head and melts with the crowd.

All the eighteen year olds sit in a chair in the middle of the stadium as they get their whole future decided for them. I sit down in the third chair of the third row. We all wait for our turn with the Brander. The Brander is this machine that engulfs a bright blue light over the person being Branded and announces what stratum they're now in. After that the stratum symbol is burned into the skin on their wrist. It's the only marking we have that is man made. I've heard it hurts like nothing ever felt before.

One by one people sit in the steel chair and get judged by their tattoos. The Brander analyzes them and based on the meaning of their tattoos decides whether they’re Cunning (smart), Creative, Courageous, Clement (nice), or Colorless. From that moment on they belong in that stratum and only that stratum. The Brander’s decision is final.

The girl before me goes up. The light shines over her and the machines speaks in a clear, pleasant voice: "Colorless."

The whole stadium gasps. That was the first person assigned to Colorless today. A family in the Courageous stratum stands up and screams their arguments. Her family. I look away and focus on the girl. She's silently crying as the Colorless symbol is burned into her wrist. Her future is set for her.

Colorless is something no one ever wants to be. It's assigned to those who have little to no tattoos and are treated like dirt by most people. The jobs given to those in that stratum are jobs no one else wants. It's selfish but I'm grateful I know that's not an option for me. I have plenty of tattoos.

After that scene it's finally my turn. I stand up and head to the chair with my head held high. I sit down and I hear the steady hum as the blue light analyzes me. Weirdly enough the light tickles. A minute passes and the light dims. My stomach turns and I suck in a breath as I await what the machine decides.

"Creative Stratum."