Page 4 of The Commons

“Now,” he commands, and the officers grip my hands, shoving me out, away from everyone.

“No. No, please! Please!” I beg. “I’ll do anything. Please, I deserve to be here. I was the valedictorian.” I suddenly begin to remember why I am comparable to these elites. “I was recommended by Governor Solodia. I’m smart. I passed all the common qualifier tests!”

Suddenly, he turns. His hands rise and he thumps toward me, my eyes to the floor, my face red.

He flicks his hands for everyone to leave, ripping the blindfold off my eyes so roughly, he could have ripped my eyeballs out. “You what?”

I what? What particular thing on my accomplished resume is he inquiring on now?

“Um…” my voice quakes, petrified truly. I cannot die. I must find my sister. “I’ll do anything.”

He smirks, tracing my shape with his laser-golden eyes, too beautiful for a being that I’m sure has a monster soul.

“Take her to The Selection Zone. Let’s see if she’ll do anything.”

The Selection Zone. God Almighty. No! No!… My heart thumps. That is Oblivion!

“Or… are you too scared?” He smirks.

My mind shudders.

I have no words to respond.

I am too scared.

But I can’t say that.

I promised myself that whether I faced death or bondage, I would find my sister and that is exactly what I plan to do. And if this is the only way to make it to The Commons, take me to my death, Patron Pesh.

CHAPTER 2

Oblivion

If I don’t make it out of Oblivion, I’m dead.

One hundred of us in here did not find favor with a Patron. Only one of us can make it to The Commons. It has to be me.

This is how us poor people make it against these elites. I mean middle class. Crap, I hate that I keep calling myself poor. I’m not poor.

My dad used to be a millionaire back when he worked as an international medical consultant in Geneva and Port Harcourt. And he reminds me of that every single day. America liquidated him. Well, coming back to America. If I disgrace him and amount to nothing, there goes a billion. I am his investment. I can’t afford to be stupid. No pressure at all.

My mom is also freakin running for governor and doing well at that! My mom also doesn’t know I’m here. Neither does my dad. But let’s not talk about that.

Upon stepping out, red liquid drips on the ground and to my shock, I see Xexe stabbing herself. I sprint to stop her, my fingers gripping the dagger as she shakes in spasms falling to the floor.

“No, Xexe. No! Please don’t die.”

“Make it in for all of us. Do it for me,” she says, holding onto my hands.

“No. No. No! Why? Why, Xexe? Why?” I cry out as she shakes her head, and her eyes close.

God Almighty.

I know why. Before the game even begins. She would rather die than see her parents’ look of disapproval for not becoming common. She told me her parents were cruel. And they promised to do terrible things to her if she returned without being claimed.

These are the lengths many will go to have their children be selected into The Commons. Now there are only 99 of us. Oh my God. My throat is dry. I can’t breathe. She is… she was my friend. The proctor pulls me away and pushes me toward the line. Most people will eliminate themselves before The Commons ever does.

My eyes dart up. I have to survive.