The world is a dangerous place. It is the reason our government crammed us up in this hell house, they think will save us.

75 years ago our world went into war. The United States government thought it would be better to have more peace than war. They built an area surrounded by a 100 feet wall, that no one can escape. Inside this wall is my home. My home, a safe house, crowded with people and the Hubber, a store with every thing we will ever need.

Everything except, freedom. We are forced to live our lives the way the government wants us too. Not how we want too. And every year our cruel leaders reduce the population by giving the unlucky chosen ones a mission involving death.

When you turn 14, you take the Mission Test. There are two stages, Physical and Mental. They choose the weakest for the Mission. They keep the strongest to work inside the wall.

My mom and dad always said that I was strong, but I never believed them. I couldn't even carry a bag home from the Hubber when I was little. I am small and thin, nothing like my brother, Tristan Reagan. He was always the strong one, the mean one. He would pick on me, but eventually stopped.

Sadly, this year we both turn 14. The age we take the Mission Test. I never thought about what the test would be like. My mom said it was the worst feeling she had experienced. Sick, tired and weak.

She was the unlucky one. The one that got picked for a Mission. Her Mission was to find and kill the other teams. She never made it out. At least.. not alive.

The Day Of The Test

I woke up sweating and my breaths were loud and fast. My dream must of been very unpleasant.

Someone opens my door.

"Come on. Come on!," my brother has a worried look on his face.

"What?," I ask.

"Ava! Come on! Dad needs help!," he starts to speak louder. I get out of bed and run past him, into the kitchen. My dad is sitting, slouched in his seat. I walk over to where I can see his face.

All the color and all the life has left his face. "What...what happened?," I ask. I put my hand gently on my dad's chest to feel his heartbeat. One beat, two beat. Three beat, four beat, fiv- It stopped. His heart, stopped.

Tristan runs his hand through his hair. "He.. he was drinking and smoking without us knowing, Ava," he says, a tear rolling down his face.

"No...," I am still in shock. I remove my hand and place it on my lifeless father's cheek. "No, not today! Not this day!," I am no longer shocked. I am more angry and terrified.

"He kept his own secret...," Tristan whispers.

"He is not dying today! Get him to the hospital, Tristan!," he doesn't move.

"Ava...," he sighs. "If he is already gone... there isn't anything they can do."

"Why?," I start to cry. "Why today?," I put my hand on the chair my dad is sitting in for support.

"Maybe..," Tristan starts. He can't finish because he starts to cry with me.

"They don't even allow alcohol and cigarettes here, though. That... that is why it is a safe place, right?," I ask Tristan. I know he is the same age as me, but somehow I feel like he is older.

He shakes his head slowly. "This is no safe place, Ava! Haven't you figured that out already?! I mean, look what they do to us!," he walks closer to me. "They take the 14 year old's and trap them up in a dome... with a Mission. Every Mission involving death, Ava," he says, almost a whisper. I think of a reason dad might of kept this from us.

"Maybe he did it.. So he wouldn't have to see his children die before him," I say.

"Maybe," Tristan sighs. "Get ready for today, Ava. I will take care of this."

I nod and take my hand off the chair. Before I leave, I give my lifeless dad a small kiss on the forehead. It feels good to touch his soft skin again. Knowing that I will never be able to do it again, makes me want to run away.

But, there is no running away. The wall keeps us locked up. There is no freedom and there is no escaping. There is.. No safety.


Short! But.. I hope you guys like the idea of the book so far!

- Anna


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