Stealing Perfection

Chapter 20

The clean white walls and chrome chairs prove to be quite menacing, but I try to block it out as I watch my fingers play with the cuff of my jacket. I can feel my hands beginning to sweat, and I pray no one notices my legs shaking. Can’t they just hurry up and call my name?

 “Astille Lennon.” My head glances up to the next girl in line, a short brunette, obviously a lower level. She stands up from her chair with bright eyes and a pointed face, and follows the Command behind the single door. It slams shut, and it is silent in the room again.

I count the seconds, which turn into minutes, and end at twenty. The door opens again, and the same pale haired Command comes back out, and smiles at me with her eyes digging deep into mine.

“Nixon Valencia,” she says, and I stand up from my chair. I follow her through the door, and we are in a cream colored room with one table in the middle and one empty chair. Three people are sitting on the other side of the empty chair, two males and one female. The door closes with a slam.

The female’s head tips up to look at me, and I meet her gloomy green eyes. Her hair is in perfect brunette waves that flow just past her shoulders, and chills run up my spine just from looking at her. Something about her is startling.

“Please sit, Nixon.” She raises a hand to the chair, and I gingerly sit down. She gives me a warm smile.

“My name is Pandora, and my assistants will also asses you.” My body freezes. Pandora?

I’m dead. I’m surely dead.

I am beginning to plan my burial when she opens her mouth to speak again.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions first, dear. Please respond with the correct answer.”

I fold my hands in my lap and force myself to continue looking at her.

“What is your full name?”

“Nixon Zoë Adeline Phoebe Valencia,” I say. I am grateful that the words don’t stick in my throat.

“What is your age?”

“Seventeen.”

“Date of birth?”

“July eleventh.”

“Of what year?”

“Twenty-one thousand and nine.”

“What level are you?”

“Thirty-one.”

She looks up from her sheet and her eyes twinkle.

“Really?” Her smile brings me nothing but feelings of terror and distraught.

“Yes.”

“That seems strangely low.” I reassure her by pulling a smile onto my lips. “Well, anyways . . . what are your parent’s full names?”

“Bellenda Lillian Valencia nee Retae and Caevan Christophe Valencia.”

What is your brother’s full name?”

“Terran Wade Valencia.”

“Why do you have three middle names? It’s a peculiar difference.”

 I smile sweetly again, and shrug. “I don’t know.”

“But surely, you would have an idea as to why.”

“No, ma’am,” I say, my hands beginning to shake.

Pandora’s eyes are stuck on mine. She looks peaceful and composed, but her eyes tell me that she knows everything. My mother was right; I won’t make it past my birthday.