Twenty-Four Hours

2: #116

        I sit there with my mom, dad, and sister. We wait just like any morning, arms locked, and hands connected. We do this as a sign of resistance, if they have cameras watching us. I don't know my mom or dad's name or number, but my sister's name is Helana and she's #1122.       

        The intercom begins. "Hello, Wiseless. Today's number is... " a pause comes from the king's voice. "#116" For about 6 seconds, no one got up from the crowd, then, an old man in his 70's, got up and headed to the injection facility. There was a long pause, and then everyone got up and went back to normal work.

        The next morning, My family and I are about to go to the plaza where we wait for the abstraction call. I put on my dirty, half a year old clothes. We head to the plaza.

        We wait, locking arms and holding hands. It's 9:50 A.M. I look at everybody in the plaza, and I see two people in the front with white vests, white pants, and a mask. I don' know what they're doing, but they're walking fastly toward a group of Wiseless. I look in the direction they're walking, and I recognize someone.

        It's #116. The people in white vests walk toward him. When they reach him, they yell," Get on the ground!" The old man didn't say anything.he just put his hands behind his head and kneeled. Now I could see what the men in the white vests were holding, a pistol. Within a split second, a loud bang sounded through the dome. #116 was dead. The men in the white vests walked away.