Raileigh and I took our usual seats in the dining hall. Our chairs were both big, puffy moon chairs, the kind you can quite comfortably curl up in. Hers was an impossibly bright shade of pink, while mine was a dark turquoise.
However, today we didn’t happily sink into the amazing softness that is a moon chair. Today we, like everyone else, sat tensely at the edgy of the chair. No one was eating and there was no easy banter going on.
The projector turned on suddenly, and huge letters filled the screen, proclaiming this Selections motto: “Be Selected to Find Your True Potential”.
And the sad thing is, that’s not the worse motto we’ve ever seen. Last time it was the old Uncle Sam thing with “We want YOU this Selection Day!” and the cheesiest one I can remember “The Selection: Not just a dream, but your Reality!”
Aside from that, it was basically the same each Selection day. Same shit, different day. The big projector screen turns on showing the motto. Then comes the slide show, which basically just says what an honour and a privilege it is to be Selected and how what we’re doing will benefit the entire country, and maybe even the world.
Then the portly Executive comes in and gives a speech. Which is what was about to happen now.
“Welcome to yet another Selection Day!” He beamed around the room, and received stony looks in response.
“As you all would know by now, on this list before me there is every one of your names. Two of those names are fortunate enough to have the honour of being Selected. I will call out these names and they shall come to the front to stand by me here. Then you will have time to pack a few of your belongings before leaving the college for good. Luck devils.” He paused a moment, waiting for the laugh that will never come.
He frowned slightly, and then continued. “As always, the Selection is open to any willing volunteers. I’m surprised not many of you do bother to volunteer yourself. As I mentioned before, it really is a great honour.”
No one else was surprised. Never, in the whole history of Selections, has anyone ever volunteered themselves. It was like suicide.
And still now, after his right pretty little speech, of course, nothing and no one says what Selection days really about. Just keeping us in suspense, keeping the mystery alive.
“Ok then. The first lucky individual to be Selected is… Jamie Greenswood! C’mon up here you lucky son of a gun!”
I’d never really spoken to Jaime. He was tall and thin, with kinda greasy dark hair. Majority of the time, those who were Selected looked like that. They were usually the ones who kept to themselves, stayed out of the way of everyone else. Basically, the nerds. I mean that in the nicest way possible.
However, there is also sometimes a really, really good looking individual Selected. In those unfortunate instances, Raileigh gets pretty mad.
“One down, one to go.” I muttered to Raileigh.
She nodded “Jamie’s not a huge loss either, not like Daniel. Whew, that’s one fine specimen of a male.”
I rolled my eyes.
“And now, for the final Selection of this fine evening.” the Execuative said in an announcers voice, and did a pathetic attempt at an air- drum roll. “That lucky person is…”
He didn’t say my name. Lucky me. I let out a sigh of relief. But stopped.
Because it was then that what he had said registered on me.
Instead of my name, he said something much, much worse.
“Is… Raileigh Carroway!”
