DESTINY

CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

 Writing my name on a paper never seemed so hard before. But I guess, when the paper is so important, it could be this hard. Sighing once, twice, and then finally a third time I realize I am stalling. Nervous, I look at my surroundings. I wipe my sweaty hands on my dress. Being alone never really settled well with me. I clear my throat, glancing behind me; well, almost alone. The man that stands at the door is silent and hasn't made a sound since I entered. He will continue to stand there until I finish, and then will stand there again for as many times as needed until everyone has taken the test.

 The paper- that is what is most important right now. Telling myself this urges me to go on and write my name at the top of the paper, where it clearly says NAME. Serendipity Tagliano stares back at me in my writing.I breathe in big before I read the directions that are written on the front page, underneath where it asks for a name.

1. When you turn page one, you will have forty-five minutes to complete the written test. I look down at the bottom of this page, numbered as page one.

2. You will read ALL of the questions and answer them accordingly.

3. If you are found cheating in any way, you will not be allowed to finish the test, will be given a failing grade, and will be sentenced to live the remaining of your life in Ignominy.

4. When you finish the test, close the booklet and let the monitor know you are finished. The monitor with then let you leave.

 Before I turn the page, I look back at the monitor; the man still hasn't moved. He is from the Colombian Division, I laugh to myself. No wonder he is so stern. I look back to the task at hand and flip the page before I even know what I am doing. No one even knows what the test is testing us over. Our intelligence, maybe?

 Like any other test, I hope it is. Maybe, just maybe, I could get a passing grade on that. Any other thing may bring me down.

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 When I have turned the last page of the test, a sigh of relief flutters from my lungs. It is over. The test asked me a whole bunch of questions, a few of them asking little bits of my intelligence like arithmetic or science, but most of them were over... me. It asked a lot about what I thought about this or that, if I agreed on something or another. One question, which still boggles my mind as to why it was there, asked if I was happy. The question made me sort of laugh, and I quickly covered my mouth and looked behind me at the man, to see if he thought I was cheating. But he stood there, not even looking at me. The answer to my question was, of course, yes.

 I close the booklet and stand. After pushing in my chair, a teeth chattering scratch on the floor which made me shiver, I walked to the man. He looks at me now, and I wonder what he is thinking. Then, he opens the door and lets me leave. As I go, I hear his footsteps going away from me as the door slowly closes. He must be getting my test. I walk down the hallway I walked through earlier to get to the testing room, and when I find my way to the end of all the twisting and turning, I find the lobby.

 The woman behind the desk, hair pulled back tightly, glances at me as I walk past her. I hear footsteps shuffling behind me, the woman glancing at the person like she did me. I look back as well, and I see a boy from a different division coming from the same hallway I came from. He must have just finished as well. The clothes he wears tells me he is from Graceland Division. The colors and face he portrays tells all, gives it away. But I suppose my States Division attire is different to him, like his is different to me.

 Graceland Division occupants wear white clothing, white shoes, sometimes even die their hair white. They do not want to offend anyone by a color; sometimes, to them, a color can reflect a certain feeling. Example: If someone wore a red shirt, it could offend someone by them thinking they were angry or upset. To them, they try to keep an open mind, express their own thoughts and feelings, willing to listen to the thoughts of others and their opinions. Not that they have to conform to those thoughts and ideas, but just to be nice and live in peace with that person who believes that way.