The Marked

Chapter 1•••

I sit on the end of my bed with my hair standing on end. My face is drenched in sweat and I can't see anything. They called my name from what seemed like miles away. They were trying to reach for me, but I wouldn't help them. I kept trying to move but I couldn't. I couldn't even blink. I stood there forced to watch them trying to grab me to hold on to. To wake me from my frozen posture, but I couldn't be reached. I was stuck, and so were they. ~~~ it's always the same one. Always the same dream, and I have had it every night for the past 3 years, since I turned 14. I never found out what it means. I don't even know if it will go away. I try to catch my breath, but I can't. It never changes. It always stops at the same part and time. 3:15 am each morning is my cue to get up. Some have worse dreams, others have better. Some are blessed with good ones filled with love, and others with loss. But mine? Neither. I don't even know the people, but it still haunts me every night.

Tomorrow that will change. It has to be different. I live in a society where, starting at the age of 14, all kids are cursed by a dream. Well, not all are cursed. Some are gifted with one, happy ones. One day a year, all the 17 year olds get tested on their dream. Tellers are the people who read our dreams and let us know where we belong. Our dreams and their meanings tell us where we fit into society. Whether it says we are a care taker, a teacher, government officials, or even a teller, which is rare. Tomorrow I find out where I belong. My dreams will go away tomorrow, unless its corrupted. When a dream is corrupt, the kids are forced to leave the society. The problem is that they don't know where to go. No one who has left the city has ever come back, so no one knows what's out there.

Now that I'm awake, I can't go back to sleep or the dreams will reappear. They are what has made me afraid of the dark. Whenever I close my eyes, it's like I can hear the people call my name to help them. The thought sends shivers down my back. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, and I feel my long, blonde braid tickle the bottom of my spine. Every morning I sit here in silence. That's another thing I hate. Silence always recalls my dreams. I shiver at the temperature that seemed to drop so suddenly. I can see my breath in my room this morning, and all I have on is a t-shirt and shorts. I can't say I'm not nervous for the evaluation tomorrow, because I am. I want to know what part of the city I belong in, but I also want to know what my dream means. It's like I feel the people grab my arms even when I'm awake. My dream has ruined my life. I'm jumpy all the time, and I'm not the same as before. They need to stop now.