The selection: After the heir

PLEASE READ

Okay so even though this story is finished I'm writing another story and I'd appreciate a whole lot of you checked it out. Here's a preview 😉

Killed. Murdered. I was told. My father was killed. I have no one left anymore. My dad and I were eights but we were okay. He had a job that gave us enough food so we were more like 5's. But we were still labeled as Eights. Helpless little Eights. That's what people thought we were, helpless.

Eights are dangerous.

Eights are smart.

Eights are acting.

There's a secret people don't know about eights that could destroy the monarchy if they knew.

Eights have guns, eights are the southern rebels.

But if you don't agree to it, they kill you.

My dad was a southern rebel that's why he got paid. A two founds the southern rebels paying us all that work for them. I didn't work for them, I just cleaned the house and cooked dinner. I was okay with that though, I had a better life than most sixes did.

Until.

Until my dad disagreed.

Southern rebels didn't used to kill everybody in sight, but when they started suggesting they kill everybody, instead of just the royals.

He disagreed.

They murdered him for this, and told me they'd kill me too. I ran away. But not before I got the letter, I filled it out. I ran to where I could turn it in, put my nicest outfit on, which was slightly okay looking jeans and my cleanest shirt. That had a few holes. But it was the best I had, ever since my dads death.

When I walked into the room I got a ton of stares. And they didn't look away, I brushed my hair too. But I didn't have any makeup on. I wasn't able to take a shower, because I was kicked out of where I lived. I knew I would never win, but I figured it's worth a shot. I had nothing left, barely any money for food left. I had $100 left, enough to let me stay in an apartment for a month. But no food, I could survive, I'll figure it out. I told myself. I always did.

I got into my apartment room with my small bag, it had a change of clothes and a few cans of beans in it. Hopefully enough to survive a few weeks. I just needed a place to stay, away from the eights that wanted me dead. The room didn't have a tv but there was a public tv, in the lounge, which is where I watched the report. Daily.

-weeks later-

It was the night of the report, the announcing of the names. I knew they wouldn't call me, they always called people from sumner last. So I had to wait a while. I zoned out until they pulled the one name away from my province. They pulled out the last card and read it.

"Julia Klimt, from Sumner caste 3!" The guy said, I sighed. I knew I wouldn't win. I'll figure it out I told myself. I always do, I always do, I always don't. I felt a tear escape from my eye and wiped it away remembering I was in public, I turned around to go to my room when I heard the announcer yell.

"Well there we have it folks." I kept walking when I realized he was finished.

I made it to the elevator and watched the ending while I was waiting.

"There's been a mistake." I heard, probably just messing up the caste of a girl. The elevator opened, "From Sumner we have Madeleine Aldaine, Caste 8." I whipped my head back, and saw my picture on the screen. I wiped my eyes, this isn't real. It was, my picture was on it. And then I realized. I was going to the selection.

I was the first Eight to go to the selection.