The Selected

Selection Day

There was silence throughout the entire town this morning. No one said anything to anyone, and those with children under the age of eighteen stayed in, hugging them tightly as if they would disappear in a moment's notice.

To be fair, though-- they just might.

It was a dreary day, matching the mood of the people, with gray clouds and a chill that bit at your nose and any exposed skin.

The house was as silent as the town, the only noise being the occasional clatter from the kitchen as Mary Anne prepared breakfast. She always hated this day, and so she usually kept to herself. Then again, most people hate this day.

I sat in the bay window of my room, looking out at the overcast skies as a sinking feeling deposited itself in the pit of my stomach. It's selection day, and I had an awful feeling about it.

A knock at the door pulled me out of my reverie and I turned to see Alan walk into the room, a sad smile on his face, "Hey, kid."

His hair was graying, probably due to all of the stress he goes through, though he still had crow's feet around his eyes from all of the smiling he normally does, but not today. No one smiled today, unless it was one of sadness. A smile that spoke a thousand words and none all at once to say goodbye.

Today we all grieve, because we know one of us will be taken, sacrificed to the Moon Goddess by the despicable Alpha Rhodes of the Ravage Pack.

"Hi," I reply weakly, hugging my knees to my chest to make room for him to sit on the ledge as well.

Alan Simmons, Alpha of the Phoenix Pack, was a kind man, and it showed in his pack. He was loved by all, as he was a fair and strong leader. He also took me in at the age of five, when he found me curled in a ball between the dead bodies of my parents. I don't remember much from that night or of my life before then, only flashes of green, red, and brown remained. He and his family have always treated me kindly, and as though I was truly one of them and not just a stray they had taken in.

"You're not nervous are you?" He teased and I huffed.

With a shrug, I looked out the window at the small pond in the backyard, the water rippling across the pond as the wind ripped violently through the air, "I guess I am nervous."

He smiled at me kindly, "They're not going to Select you, Addie. You're my daughter and they can't take children of an Alpha or a Beta."

I frowned, "But I'm not your actual daughter, so they can take me."

Alan growled lowly, "I won't let them."

We both knew he didn't have a choice, but he's always been overprotective of me, and so I decided not to say that and just nodded along, "Okay."

We sat there for a little while longer until the old grandfather clock downstairs chimed, letting us know that it was noon, and it was time for the Selection process to begin.

Mary Anne offered me a bone-crushing hug before we left, and Jordan, Alan's only other child and son, joined us if only for ceremonial purposes. He took my hand and squeezed it. He was a year older than me, 18, but he was wiser than anyone else our age, "You doing okay?"

"Fine," was my one word response. If I spoke anymore I might burst into tears at the fear that was building up inside of me.

We arrived to the pack hall where the rest of the shifted wolves under the age of eighteen were gathering, praying to the Moon Goddess that she wouldn't choose us. Jordan had to release my hand when we arrived, but he gave me one last encouraging squeeze before he did so.

I was suddenly engulfed in bony arms, and I returned the hug immediately as I recognized my best friend Samaria.

"I know this is, like, the fourth time we've done this, but it doesn't get any less scary," she bit her lip anxiously and I nodded in agreement.

"I know what you mean," I told her and elaborated, "I woke up this morning with a pit in my stomach. I don't feel good about this, Sami."

She frowned, "Oh, hush, you'll be fine. You really think the Alpha would let them take you?"

"He doesn't exactly have a choice if he doesn't want the Ravage Pack to attack," I mumbled, because I sensed the presence of a stranger on the territory. Everyone else did too as they began to shift uneasily in their spots.

"Line up, please," Alan's voice boomed, and we immediately fell into our rows. I was in the third row and in the middle, Samaria right beside me.

The presence was near now, and the sinking feeling in my stomach only dug itself deeper, and I knew that I was in trouble.

Flashes of red, green, and brown blurred in front of my eyes and I squeezed them shut. I couldn't seriously be thinking about that night at a time like this, could I? Suddenly there was a blurry, round flash of white, and then nothing. The visions were gone, and I was back to staring dead ahead in silence.

Samaria's words from our very first Selection day rang in my head as we stood there, a man dressed in all black approaching Alan as we waited in silence.

They choose the obviously strong or the obviously weak. Just stay in the middle, and don't stand out on either end. Be completely ordinary, and you'll be fine.

I still wasn't comforted by the memory of her words, despite my absolute ordinality.

The man in black turned around after a few short, terse words with Alan. The first thing that struck me when I saw his face was how pale he was— his face was about as white as a sheet of paper. And then I was hit with flashes of red, green, brown and a circle of white. The flashes slowed, until they clarified into one face, that face of the man that stood before me, and it was as if a hundred memories surged forward at once.

That day was no longer a collection of flashes, but a vivid memory, as though someone were playing it on a movie screen on the backs of my eyes.

This man standing before me, about to Select one from our pack to be sacrificed, killed my parents, and I was sure of it.

I stiffened at the realization as a burning rage consumed me out of nowhere. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to step forward and rip his oddly pale head right off of his shoulders. This was new, as I've never really been the warrior type; I've never been blood-thirsty or violent really. I've always been a pacifist, until now.

Now I was ready to kill.

But I stayed where I was as the man walked row after row, never looking at us, just walking by. I kept my head somewhat high, but not too high, and stared straight forward, but I could still feel my blood begin to boil as he walked past me.

Then, after walking through every row, he made his way up to Alan, and spoke lowly so that none of us could hear. Alan's head snapped up at whatever the pale man had said and his eyes zeroed in on me, a panicked look on his face, and I knew.

I had been Selected.