A Shredded Rainbow

            I live in a world where the color of your hair defines your life. It defines social rankings, careers, and it divides families. After World War IV in the year 2195, our DNA went haywire, causing babies to be born with any color of hair that you can imagine, along with eyes to match. Sometimes babies are born with heterochromia, meaning their irises don’t match. That’s mostly an albino thing, though. The weird thing about the births of these babies is that the parents’ hair colors have nothing to do with the babies’.

                Those born with colorful hair tend to be of higher ranks than those born with “normal” hair colors. People just prefer the, as it’s called, “Designer Babies” over the “Boring Babies”. Both of my parents are middle-class born, with purple hair, purple eyes, and purple names. Violette and Morado. Aren’t their names original? I guess they didn’t like the simplicity of their names, so they stepped mine up a level. My name is Aureole Solstice, a rainbow, and I was born into the life of luxury, glamour, and power.

                “Aureole? Wake up, Darling… Today is your big day…” My mother’s tender voice envelops my mind, the familiar smell of lavender filling my nose. I stir in my large bed, slowly awakening from a night of restless slumber. The smell of her lavender perfume makes me want to stay in bed and sleep some more though.

“Mmm.. Huh?” I mumble incoherently, still in a sleepy stupor of confusion.

                “Get up, Darling.” She starts to pull the blankets off my body.

“Ah! Cold!” I squeak and cover myself back up. You would think that living in the high palace would mean warm mornings and breakfasts in bed.

 “You’re going to be late… It’s already 10am. Are you nervous?” my mother asks.

I let out a short disgruntled breath. “Of course I am.”

“I’m nervous too.” She looks at her hands and pauses, “But I’m so happy to see you!”

“How did you get in here?” I ask, slightly confused. Normally middle-class citizens aren’t allowed in the palace.

“Albiniss let your father and I in. It is a special occasion, after all.” The sadness in her soft voice makes my heart melt slightly. The only time I get to see my parents is when something special is happening in the castle. Needless-to-say, I don’t have a strong relationship with either of my parents.

I reach out and grab her hands, looking into her violet eyes with my rainbow ones. “It’ll be alright. I’ll be alright.” The problem here is this; I’m trying to convince myself just as much as I am her.

After eating breakfast and sitting through three hours of being beautified by the Platinums (who are in charge of wardrobe, hair, and makeup), I’m standing behind the giant white doors, waiting to go out there and sacrifice myself in front of a billion people. Yep, that’s right, sacrifice. You see, as tradition goes, you must sacrificially kill yourself as an offer to our almighty God and Goddess, Zanite and Saffron, to become a part of the High Council. If you live, the Gods have deemed you worthy of playing a part in the ruling of the world. If you aren’t worthy, well, you’ve just killed yourself and are now dead forever.

There are only a few rules. First rule, you must do the deed with the special sacrificial dagger. What’s so special about it? The tanzanite and sapphire gems that cover the hilt signify our Gods. It is said that when the two proclaimed their love for each other, as a special gift, they created the two beautiful gem stones and named them after one another. It is vital that you use it. Second rule, blood must be spilt on the altar for the resurrection to occur. Just one drop is necessary, but that one drop is also vital. That’s it. Those are the two rules you need to follow. You can kill yourself in any way you want as long as it is with the dagger and blood gets on the altar.

It’s weird. They televise the whole thing. It’s like everyone wants to watch eighteen year olds kill themselves to possibly be resurrected and help rule the world. Now that I think about it, I guess it does sound sort of entertaining.

“Are you ready?” my guardian, Albiniss asks, offering me his arm and snapping me out of my worried state of mind.

“As ready as a person can be to kill one’s self, I suppose.” I let out a shaky breath.  “Who else is participating in this tonight?”

His red and purple eyes pierce into my colorful ones. “Only you.”

My eyes widen and my breath hitches. Stay calm, stay collected. I breathe in deeply.

“Perk up, smile wide, posture,” he quickly reminds me as the guards open the doors.

“Please welcome our young hopeful, the beautiful, Miss Aureole Solstice, everyone!” the news reporters say as I make my grand entrance. I walk slowly with purpose, Albiniss escorting me. My long white dress drags on the ground behind me with every step I take towards the altar. A small twist of my curled hair is dangling off to the side of my face, slightly distracting me. The Platinums ultimately decided to braid my long, curly, rainbow hair and have it pinned up in an intricate bun. As if it matters what I look like when I kill myself.

We make our way towards the royal altar. It’s such a pretty thing to die on.  White roses and, at my request, lavender, cover the arch from top to bottom. Church bells sound nine times, and it’s time to take my life.

The curvy blade gleams in my hands. I’ve thought a lot about this moment. Do I really want to be a leader? Am I ready? What if Zanite and Saffron say I’m not? I’m leaving this all up to fate. I may die from this.

Before I can even hesitate, the blade is slicing my throat, my vision is being consumed by darkness, and my mother’s piercing shrill of agony is filling my ears, along with the clapping and cheering from the crowd. My body goes limp, lifeless, and falls to the ground. In the last second of my life I realized this; I hadn’t spilt blood on the altar.

Now I’m gone. Forever.