The Selection

Chapter Two

The next morning I wake up and groan while shielding my eyes from the sunlight coming through the window. A low knock sound fills my ears before Dad stumbles in and uses his crutches to get to the edge of my bed. He sits down on the corner as I sit up against the wall and rub my eyes of sleepiness.

"Even if you don't become a Princess, or one of the 10 Elite, or even become one of the 35 selected. . . I am so proud of you Sydney. I can't think of any one else to have as my daughter. I just want you to know that." He sighs.

 I wonder how proud he would be if he knew why Mikaylah really died. . . or at least how it happened, considering that I never chose to talk about that night. 

As if I had x-ray vision, I knew that the selection sign-up form was resting in his back pocket and a pen too.

"Give me the pen." I hold out my hand and Dad snickers before handing me the sign-up sheet.

After he stumbles his way out of my room I look over the form for the first time. It all looked pretty reasonable and straight forward, obviously written by a Two or a Three. I felt like I was signing a contract though. It asked for my full name, age, caste, birthday, height, weight, appearance, all siblings, address, home number. Likes and dislikes. Occupation. When I was finally done I took a deep breath and got out of bed. I have to take this to the local Services Office and get my picture taken. Oh great, what the hell am I gonna wear?

"I knew you'd sign-up." I whip around and see Max standing in the doorway. 

"Extra money always helps, you know that?" I state looking through my bland neutral clothes hanging in my wooden closet. All on hand crafted hangers.

"Be yourself." Max mocks Queen Alexandria making me smile to myself and turn to look at him. "Wear what you would to work, show them that your not trying. That this won't change you. Be proud of where you come from." I ruffle my little brothers long sandy hair and smile.

"When did you get so smart? And hey, if I do get selected maybe I'll make it to family weekend. You can finally meet Princess Macy. At least one of us might have a chance at being a One."

"She'd probably prefer me." Trae counters leaning into my doorway making me laugh.

"Alright, both of you out. I need to get dressed and get this over with before I humiliate myself." I push them out playfully and shut my door behind them with a bright smile on my face.

"Princess Macy would be repulsed by you, she'd like me way better." I hear Max tell Trae.

"Oooo, using your big fancy words now. . ." 

Their voices fade as their footsteps echo down the stairs. I shake my head while walking back over to my closet. For once I think Max had a point, I don't want the selection to change me. I hadn't thought about that until now. What if being in the palace changes the way I think, or my feelings? Will they try to change me? Do they brainwash people? I've never felt what it was like to live as a Three let alone be in the life of a One.

I decide that I'm gonna follow what Max said, so I throw on the cleanest white polo I own and a pair of black, long shorts. My Dad had carved me a wooden desk and that's where I sit every morning when I brush my hair. My mirror was made up of a billion different shards of glass that I used to pick up when I would walk home from a job. As I run the half broken hairbrush through my hair, my mind wanders, I do that a lot don't I? I wondered if I would look different at the palace. What would my hair feel like when a rel comb went through it. Would make-up make me look all that different. How comfy are the beds. What the food must taste like. The fresh, clean water must feel like a dream on your skin. . .