Trials Intro

Disclaimer! This is a nonpublished unfinished novel intro!



Humans were a miracle. We were never supposed to survive past the ice age. We could only gather enough for one person to eat each day. Though somehow by a miracle, we grew in size and our technologies and cities advanced. From copper tools and crossbows to holograms and skyscrapers. In six million years we have accomplished so much and went from nearly zero to fourteen billion. But that brings some issues, there are fourteen billion people to house. 

There's not enough room for everyone. So the government decided to do population control. Killing off people if they can’t complete a trial in enough time, on the day they were given to do it. The trials take place today, August 8th, 2040. They have always been since they started in 2030, it’s been going on since I was five. They weed out the weak and incapable. Only leaving the ones strong enough to survive another year. It’s a sick and twisted idea but they insist it must be done. The citizens have no say and the governors and people high enough to work there never have to do it themselves. It wasn’t fair but it is what life has become. 

A long sigh fills the silent room with the dread still lingering in my limbs weighing me down onto the bed, not helping my nerves at all. Sweat trickling down my neck from restless hours of horrible fates. I will my eyes open, wincing from the light flooding into my room due to the open curtains. My eyes trace over the room, the sage walls surrounding me and keeping me from the outside providing a small hint of comfort of the depleting green from our world. The spruce floor still giving off the faint smell of wood, reminding me of the stories my mother told me of climbing trees. My eyes landing on the prize, a steel blade glinting in the showers of sunlight the curtains provided. My father's dagger, it brought tears to my eyes each time but I wouldn’t trade it for a better world.

 It will be helpful for the trials, but if I don’t make it through them, I'm not dying without it. Willing my legs to swing over the bed, I stand up and take careful steps over to my dresser. The floorboards creak under my weight with each step. I stop right in front of the dresser, the paint old and worn from years of being passed down. Grabbing the handle I force the drawer open and start rummaging through the unfolded clothing. Searching through the piles for clothes to wear that will give me a slight advantage, even the smallest one. My eyes skimming over the plain black biker shorts I got at the beginning of the school year. Reminding me of my slipping grades from worrying about the trials. That's a problem for another day. Glancing at the clock I see the flashing 9:08 A.M. My heart sinks. I'm late for the trials.

Snatching them out of the drawer I hastily pull the biker shorts on, its polyester providing a smooth slick base, and toss the pajama pants into my hamper. The cotton keeping the worn clothes in one place, it’s dotted with mushrooms over a faded light blue background. Walking over to my wardrobe and throwing the doors open like some stage curtains before the show, the wind making an audible woosh. My fingers tracing over each piece of clothing before plucking two off their hangers. A black cotton jacket and a polyester sleeveless turtleneck, the green having lost its color from hundreds of washes. Pulling the turtle neck on over my head further messing up my crazy hair before sliding on the cotton jacket. From the corner of my eye, I can see the hangers swaying side to side as I slam the closet shut again. Engulfing my clothes into an inky darkness.

The light floods into the closet again as I realize I have accidentally forgotten I need my shoes. Kneeling down and grabbing my combat boots I slide them on. Zipping up the sides and retying them, making sure they are on good. My eyes wander back over to the shine in the room, the priceless dagger so tempting to snatch up right now, my fingers twitching in anticipation. I stand up quickly and stumble back from lack of balance, my arm darting out and grabbing my dresser for stability. Regaining my footing I look back over at my father's dagger and walk over, grabbing the delicate handle. I run a finger across the cool blade, my hazel eyes staring back at me from the metal. I trace over the letters engraved on the metal. I close my eyes memorizing the words, Vincent Rosewood. The words I missed my mom yelling when she got mad at him. I miss my dad dearly.

Taking a deep breath I walk over to my bedroom door and put a hand on the cool metal knob and twist. The door swinging open like a new opportunity. A partly toothed smile greets me on the other side. As if the little gremlin knew I was leaving my room.

“Heya sis! Whatcha holding? Can I have it? It's pretty!” Catherine says all at once in an overly happy and breathy way, getting an eye roll from me. The way she acted sometimes really showed that calling her a gremlin isn’t all that far off.

 “No, you can’t have it Cathy, I need it for the trials.” My voice is more condescending than intended and I immediately regret my words, seeing her expression change from a toothy smile to a scared frown. The twinkle in her eyes was gone at the mention of the trials making me feel shitty. 

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay, sissy is really strong and so is Mama okay? But guess what?” I quickly added in an enthusiastic tone trying to cheer her up. The twinkle returns and she tilts her head like a curious German shepherd.

 “What?” The curiosity is clear in her tone.

“You are stronger than sissy and Mama combined,” I whisper like it’s a secret and her eyes light up with that 8-year-old joy. That makes my heart swell.

“That’s right! I’ll protect you and Mama!” Her voice is prideful and upbeat and I ruffle her hair.

“How about we get you ready now okay?” I say brushing some of her bed head from her face. Smiling more her face beams and she sprints off to her room. I slowly trail behind, and push her door open to see her tearing apart her room for an outfit that would work. I can’t help the small laugh that escapes my lips as I see her clothes strewn about. Walking into the mess that is her room I bend down and grab a tank top and a skirt with built-in shorts. “This should work sissy.” I keep my voice light trying to ignore the pang in my chest. Her small hand grabs it before she runs off to the bathroom to get changed. The room became still, the only noises being the sound of my heavy breaths and racing heart besides the occasional shuffle in the bathroom. A low yet short growl interrupted the silence as my stomach reminded me of the hunger at the beginning of the day. 

The door creaks open and Catherine skips out, her skort bouncing as she makes her way towards me. Her smile is bright enough to light up the room and make my heart melt. I can faintly hear her humming a lullaby over the sound of her feet hitting the ground with each leap.

“Sissy! I’m hungry! Is Mommy up yet?” Her words are drawn out in a way that I forget about that cheesy smile and want to tell her to grow up. I smile though, knowing today will already be hard enough to get through, and shrug.

“I’m not quite sure Cathy, how about you go check the kitchen?” I ask though it was more of a request.

“I’m sure you will,” I say, from the corner of my eye I can see Mom leaning against a door frame with a bittersweet smile. 

“You kids are something else, well… It's best we get going, we wouldn't want to get a disadvantage for being late.” She says, her tone clearly serious yet she tried keeping it light.

A slow exhale leaving my chest as I grab Catherine’s hand and walk over to the door, my mother leading the way. I reassure Cathy while we walk, rubbing my thumb against the back of her hand. Her palm is so small compared to mine. I close my eyes, letting the darkness engulf me. Silently praying to the god that was proven fake for Cathy to get through the trials just fine. For Mother to not lose another family member. My chest is taut as we walk. Goosebumps crawling up my arm but not from the cool wind kissing my skin. I open my eyes again and look at the gray sky, the clouds seem to want to cry just like I do. Maybe they will scream and try to drown us all before the government does. I would actually prefer that. To drown in the sky's sorrows than be deemed unworthy. I could see a few people with backpacks, part of me is glad they were at least semi-prepared but I doubt the bags could be of any real help.

The building came up faster than I would have liked. Its walls looming over me adding to the sense of dread in my heart, as I enter the cold dank concrete building with family I’m not sure I'll return to. I look down at Cathy already knowing we would be separated at this point, and I don’t want to risk one of us leaving without saying goodbye. I kneel to look her in the eyes trying to keep my voice steady as I say,

"It's going to be okay, Sissy. Just do as you were told, and Mommy and I will see you on the other side. I pinky promise" My words shaking as I hold out my pinky for a pinky promise, her small finger interlocking with mine. Her voice is so small and scared, making my heart ache even more.

“O…okay..”. As we continue to what felt to be our inevitable death, the interior changes, it is…extraordinary, with a glass roof and marble pillars. I can barely help but feel a sense of awe and wonder crash over the fear and drown it for a split moment as I look around me. I have no clear idea what lies ahead for this year, but I am determined to face it head-on and emerge victorious. I had to for Mother and Catherine. With my knife in hand, I feel a bit better. The walls are nearly only made of glass. At the room entrance, they are injecting something into people's arms. Once I got up there, there is a man with a pistol on his belt. He takes out a pocket knife and roughly grabbed my arm as if I was about to run into oncoming traffic and he was a worried mother. Before I can react he cut my arm in one fell swoop, warm blood trickling down my arm as he put a small chip into the aching fresh cut and bandage it up before telling me the room I was assigned to be in. I have to face 14 fears before the day ends. That left me with 17 hours to finish all 14 fears, or else the room would fill with toxic gas and put me to sleep but I knew very well it meant I wouldn’t wake up again.