Selection Day

Chapter Two:

At this point my Dad had realized how upset I was and tried to comfort me by reassuring me that everything would be OK. I remember shaking my head and letting out a choked sob, tears running down my cheeks. As much as I loved my Dad for trying to reassure me, there was nothing that he could have said or done to change the situation. It was going to happen no matter what. I remember that hour dragging on and how we spent the entirety of it sitting in the living room watching the News. New reporters had been broadcasting from all over the world, showing the chaos that had broken out. Watching the scenes had made anger and sorrow invade my body. I watched on as riots of angry people had been protesting on the streets, with people crying, and children looking petrified. It was horrible! I was lucky enough to have lived on an abandoned street in Hyde Park, so the usual chaotic antics of the South Side had never been much of an issue. I could only have imagined what certain parts of the South Side would have looked like in that moment.

As we had continued to watch the news, a News Reporter that had been visiting the Royal Nordics home, (located in the lush, small sea-side town of Broad Haven, Wales), had captured the Nordic King and Queen enjoying an elegant lunch with their ten children, as if unaware of the chaos that had washed over the world. That was the point where I had to get up and leave the room. I could not bear to sit through that! Watching those monsters act like they weren't going to carry out a savage act. And for a second time too!
I had felt completely and utterly powerless and the feeling made me want to scream. And that's exactly what I had done. I screamed loudly, feeling so angry, and frustrated that I didn't know what else I could do. My Dad and Carter had rushed into the room, which is when I broke down and cried. It wasn't until the News Reporter from the other room announced that there was thirty seconds remaining until our fates would be revealed. My stomach had dropped.

"After waiting for this day for 10 years, there is only thirty seconds until it's decided." the news reporters voice had shook a little, her face visibly showing how scared she was. My heart had broken when I saw a tear escape and roll down her cheek. She looked to be in her mid twenties. She still had her whole life ahead of her. So much life left to experience. That was when a deep siren had sounded outside. I had run over to the kitchen window as another siren sounded. It had been coming from the sky. The next moment was when I had felt like my life lost all meaning. I turned around to look over at my Dad and saw the one thing I had hoped I wouldn't see. The Red Nordic Symbol, glowing on the left side of his face.

While I had most likely looked drained of life, my Dad's face had filled with relief and his eyes had filled with tears.
"You've been chosen! Talia you've been chosen!"
But I wasn't even thinking about the fact that I had been chosen. I was focused on the realization that in 23 hours, my Dad would be murdered.
"But you haven't!" I had exclaimed. My Dad gave me a small sad smile and nodded. He came into the kitchen and had stopped right in front of me, holding my hands in his, the way he used to when I was upset or stressed. He would hold my hands, look me the eyes and say something that would never fail to make me smile or laugh.

Though in that moment, he hadn't said anything. He knew that there was nothing he could say to make me feel better. I looked at my Dad and shook my head. I couldn't stare at his face any longer. I had stormed off to my bathroom and slammed the door. I remember closing my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart, as I had turned to walk over to my sink and look up at the

reflection staring back at me in the mirror. More specifically at the purple Nordic symbol that had glowed on the left side of my face. I had moved my face closer to the mirror as I ran my fingers along the symbol, pushing away strands of red hair that had plastered themselves to my tear streaked cheeks. I had stared at myself in the mirror for what seemed like a lifetime, my mind spinning. I had looked a complete mess, and for once, I hadn't cared. My usually made up face was bare and blotchy, and my eyes had been red and puffy. I had washed my face with cold water, attempting to pull myself together, when I heard the sound of urgent knocking on the front door.

I walked out of my bathroom and headed down the narrow hallway, wondering whom it could have been. My heart had been beating violently and as soon as I had reached the door, I opened it without hesitation. My stomach had dropped when I saw who it was. I hadn't known whether to laugh or cry, because the woman that had stood in front of me tore my heart into a million pieces ten years before, and had torn our family apart. It was my mother. "What are you doing here?" I had managed to choke out.

"And why is your tattoo purple?!" I had exclaimed, making my mother flinch. I had balled my hands into fists, trying not to let my mother see how much seeing her face had broken me even more. But before she was given a chance to respond, a voice had sounded from behind me.

"Harriet."