The Talented

Auditions {sarah}

High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life

Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time

Hold still right before we crash 'cause we both know how this ends

~ Clarity by ZEDD

"Sarah! Sarah come on. We're going to miss the auditions!" My older sister, Andrey calls out.

"One minute! Gosh." I reply back, hearing her storm back up the stairs of my aunt and uncles house/mansion. Our parents died when I was 2 weeks old, and we've lived with Aunt Claire and Uncle Jack since. Andrey is three years older than me, and when they died, it really affected her. I don't even know anything about them except for they were part of The Talented - a group of people who were selected by the Government for a special school. It came a surprise to me when I found out I was to go to the auditions, and I suppose I feel a bit like Harry Potter. You know, the whole dead parent thing, and the fact I'm special.

"SARAH!!! Come on!" She yells, pushing into my big room. She grabs my arm, and pulls me out the door, and I just manage to snag my purse. We go down the stairs, and hop in to my aunt's car.

"We're probably going to be late! It doesn't matter though, you're mum and I were late too. We still made it."

"Yeah. We really want to make it." Andrey said calmly. Well, as calmly you can be while grasping on the hand hold so hard your knuckles turn white.

"By the way, what's at stake here?" I ask as she cuts her right turn. Yeah, not good.

"Nothing. You either get in or you don't." Auntie replies.

"Where's the school?" I ask.

"France. Just outside of Paris." She says, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

"EYES ON THE ROAD!" Andrey yells.

"Calm down. I know how to drive." Auntie retorts. Her statement was semi true; she's totalled six cars in the time I've lived with her.

The rest of the ride is in silence and when we finally get to the building, she hits the brakes so hard we jolt forward. Movie style.

"Do you want me to come in?"

"No thanks." Andrey says as I say "Yes, definitely."

"I'll come." She says. I'm not really familiar with anything that's going on, and we're in London, so I feel better with her there.

She opens the door, and walks straight ahead like she owns the place.

"Come on girls, it's just about to start."

We walk down a long hallway, and my heart is beating so hard I'm surprised my chest is still in one piece.

Another door.

These doors reveal a large stage and loads of theatre seats. I see kids, all between the ages of 13 (my age) and 16 (Andrey's age) either wringing their hands anxiously or talking excitedly to friends.

Claire leads us to the second row, and takes a seat, telling us to sit on either side of her.

"Here's how it goes," she starts, "they call everyone's name and then they lead 5 kids off at a time, starting from A ending with Z, by last name, of course. And then one by one, the performing starts and we watch. You'll get the hang of it, you won't be called until the middle. Do as you've rehearsed, and you'll be fine." She says, then starts absentmindedly fiddling with her silky brown hair.

"Okay, let's get started!" A woman with an american accent says. "I'm Lucy Tusly, and I'm an alumni and the history teacher from Chance, the school you're all trying to get into." She's now talking in a Scottish accent, and she pronounced Chance like shan-say. "Chance means 'luck' in French, by the way." Irish now.