The Government want me dead. I've known that for a long time now. There's a group of us, the Reds, that stand out. Usually, a birth defect or maybe the family you're born into has something to do with it. But not for us. We are hunted because we chose to be.
"No matter what you do Lia, don't let them analyse your real code. You must put all your concentration into this one thing. Channel your energy into acting different inside. You cannot be found," says Mother. She's protected me for as long as I can remember; since Father was killed. He was like me too. What's different is that he knew the consequences. However, I do not.
"I'm a Code Red, not a wolf. What harm can I do?" I state foolishly. I don't know what it all means. Why is my nickname colour coordinated? I barely even have an idea what a code is. Why should I worry all of a sudden?
"Somehow, they probably feel that you and a wolf are synonymous." She sighs at my innocence, my youth. She probably wishes I could understand what'll happen if I'm not careful. I'll die if they analyse my code. But, being 10 years old, I don't know that. "Come on, Lia, tell me what today is." Apparently, they ask you one question about the practice of this special day in order to be allowed into the Division. If you get your single question wrong, a member of your family will be hanged. It's just great to know that they don't harm us children.
"Today is the 186th Division, an esteemed, mandatory process carried out to ensure the safety and peace of our society. Each child of 10 years must be entered into the process or punishment shall be enforced. The Division is to establish boundaries and for our citizens, both young and old, to realise these boundaries. Your Codes are either Green, Grey, Purple or Red. The outcome of the Division will place the children in the groups associated with their Codes. If their Codes align them with different groups, they will be allotted 10 minutes with their families before swapping with a family that has also exchanged their child." I breathe heavily afterwards, like I said every word in one short moment. Mostly, I'm proud that I managed to recite it. My voice was a robotic drone but it's hard to talk of such a subject with even the slightest hint of enthusiasm. Without saying a word, I look up at my mother. She has tears in her eyes. I don't know why she is looking so solemn but I hug her dolefully, mimicking the emotion. I don't know how to feel. I'm overwhelmed by nerves and there doesn't seem to be room for anything else. She pulls away and says, "Let's go, my brave, brave girl."
Mother lets go of my hand and I skip away to the line. The children in front of me are all unrecognisable. They wear a strip of colour on their all-grey clothes like I do - mine is Purple - but they are all unfamiliar. As the line to the Asker - the man or woman who asks us the question - gradually shortens, I think about Mother.
Part of me understands nearly everything she said. I have to be confident in my answer and when the real test begins, I must pretend to be someone I'm not. How can I confidently act without the plan we discussed intricately falling through? I'm not an experienced liar. I mean, I've misbehaved before but Mother has always helped me out of a bad situation and watched me closely. Without being told, I know that this time, Mother won't be able to watch or protect me at all. That is why I must answer the question correctly. I have no other family members that will be hanged. Normally, immediate family isn't targeted as that would make life increasingly difficult but unfortunately, that 'luxury' is not on offer for me.
I am lazily daydreaming about the complex plan when I eventually reach the Asker. It is a thin-lipped woman with jet black, shoulder length hair and she taps me on the shoulder.
"Your question," She says. Her lips are pursed and she looks down at me like an incredibly tall shadow that keeps growing and growing. She frightens me but I obediently nod. "How many processes of the Division have occurred before today?" I rack my brains for the answer; it's like I've drawn a blank, searching the cavernous depths of my mind. But the search is futile: the answer is not there. But I must get this right. I have to. Calmly, I cast my mind back to this morning. With this thought, I remember reciting the Division explanation.
