Caught In The Gray

Chapter Three

Today is the day that the list of the fifty girls comes out. I'm somewhere between nervous and excited, I think the list might also determine what jobs or positions we could have.

I'm really hoping for either a medical job or something where I can help people and relationships with other nations. I think it would be a good idea, the Arab world gets misunderstood and I could help fix that.

We were told to wear something nice today. I have a gray dress that hugs my chest and flares at the hips before falling above the knee. Along with a pair of green heels that match my eyes and match the lace detail on the back. I braid my hair in a French side braid that goes off to the left side before I make sure the gold necklace my dad gave me still sits between my breasts.

I leave my face unmarked by makeup and take a glimpse in the mirror before heading out the door. I make my way down to where there seems to be a line of people. A list of names seems to be printed on the side of a building and people are scanning it anxiously to see if they've made it.

I push my way to the front and my eyes start to skip over the list, every name has a picture displayed next to it. There also appears to be a number, one through fifty.

I'm guessing that's either the rank or the number that they get interviewed by the next Military Commander. All the girls on the list seem to be very pretty and from nice neighborhoods, there doesn't seem to be much diversity, they all similar pale complexions and hair varying from light to dark.

My eyes scan over the list and I'm almost at the be when my heart falls from my chest.

Adabelle Dirani, 50

I'm one of the fifty chosen. I don't know why but I am and there's nothing I can do about it. I take a calming breath and compose myself.

At the bottom of the list, if tells the girls to the building that they had their evaluation in. I turn away from the crowd and start walking in the direction of my assigned building.

I wonder why I'm number fifty, is it a good thing or a bag thing? Am I the highest or the lowest? The top or the bottom? I'm honestly not sure.

My heels click on the sidewalk as the building comes into sight, there seems to be one of two other girls, it isn't much, which I can see, the fifty girls can be anywhere in the nation.

I open the door and head to the auditorium where the other girls are. I sit towards the front of the middle row, the other girls are talking quietly.

After ten more minutes and one more girl, making the total four, a woman comes onto the stage. The other girls stop talking.

"Hello, everyone. Congratulations on being one of the fifty chosen to have the opportunity to be the next Military Commander's wife. I'm sure you're all wondering when you get to meet him and I can put your minds at ease. Today you will have transport to the Military Base where the current Commander lives, you will stay overnight and tomorrow you will have breakfast and meet with him. He will choose which one of you he would like the next day." She says and pauses to assess us. "Clothing will be provided for your stay and you will be allowed to return to your homes for a brief moment and gather a few things before you're expected to meet outside this building, the transport will leave in a half hour whether you're there or not." She says and gestures for us to leave.

I stand up and exit the auditorium and building. How was I one of the select fifty girls chosen? I thought I'd maybe screwed myself when I mentioned the possibility of love at the end, for all I know, I could be the one girl at the bottom to make all the other girls look better.

I turn onto my mom's street and walk into her shop, a bell jingling and signaling my arrival. Mom comes running out a few seconds later, balancing a few piles of books in her arms. She stops when she sees me and sets them on the counter.