Dear world, I am what is known as a floater. In this society at least.
A floater is well, I'll let my background show you.
I was thirteen, the day of judgment. May 27th every year the heads of office, or the government gathers all the 13-year-olds from their houses forcibly and causes them to all gather. We gather in what we call the death ring, the government calls it the liberation zone. The year was 2704 when I was called up. Not called up, gathered. I was lying asleep in my bed when they gathered me. My mum started screaming as they burst through her door. So many kids try to escape to the forest to avoid even having a chance of going to the battle zone, or as we call it, the blood bath. Every year they send in the floaters, only one ever comes out. That one is allowed to rejoin society. It's pure horror watching thirteen-year-olds fight to the death, all because of something they can't control.
"John Harner your time has come." The man in the white mask and army suit says. The girl then handcuffs me and they throw me into the street with a group of thirteen-year-olds.
"Alright that's clear, sector 19 is done." The women leader says. We just call them Reapers. All of us huddled together. Some of us looking no older than 9 others like they were 15. They clearly had the advantage if they were a floater. The more muscular and physically able you are then the better. I was a scrawny thirteen-year-old that looked as if I should be in the fourth grade. I thought I had no chance of surviving if I was a floater.
"Hurry up now," The man says. We walk over a hill and spot the death ring. It was clean and polished, no one ever really has died here, but many have been sentenced to death. Just being picked is a sentence to death cause even after you rejoin society people are afraid of you for what you had to do to survive. No one knows the horrors that the floaters face. The horrors of death and blood. To think that most people watch it as a once-a-year festival. There are dances and parties and it's streamed on every hologram there is. That's another problem. People think these are games. Well I guess you can say it is, and the price of losing is your life, and the price of playing is your sanity. Many floaters go mad after the games. Hallucinations and trouble seeking. The average age for a floater to die is 30 while for normal people it's 94. Big difference, all because of "capital cleansing"
"Line up everyone, take a spot, and wait." The Reaper says.
"Hey my name is Crissy Fanter, this is my friend Robert, Joe Ostren." A girl says. Her hair was tied back. It was jet black compared to my blonde hair. Her eyes were green and filled to the brim with fear. Robert was silent, his hair was long for a boy and he hid his face with it. I knew the two of them from school. I missed school frequently though because nothing makes sense. Well, things make sense but I don't care for them.
"Name is John, John Harner," I say and she shakes my hand weirdly through the handcuffs.
"They treat us like criminals. How could they even do this?" Robert says.
"Hey you know I have a plan. If any of us get chosen then the others will do their best to get them help so that they can survive." Crissy says.
"You don't even know me," I say and she nods.
"Fair point but I have a good reason to trust you." She says. That line always stuck with me. It was as if she knew something about me.
"Ladies and gentleman. Today is the day you've all been waiting for. The day you get to join the world." The man says at the front of the stage. He had the weirdest hat but other than that he was clothed pretty regularly. I still think he was loony. He seemed too cheery. I mean your calling out children to their death, have some remorse.
"Now we will start with the results of the test and be on our merry little way." The man says. The tests were horrible. An exam to test your intelligence, then another to test physical ability, finally a blood test. If you hit the criteria for a floater then you're taken.
"To start we have a lot of floaters this year. 30 in all." The man says and the ring goes quiet.
"30, that's a record." Crissy mumbles.
"That means all of us could be it. There are only 100 or so kids, that's almost a third. One in three. One of us is a floater." Robert says and I got chills down my back.
"Will Abigail Fantter please come up." The man says and there is a huge scream from the front row. You could tell it was her. She screamed for her mother who I knew. Knowing her she was at home weeping. To have a child chosen must be hard I thought.
"Red hair, pale skin, best at mobility, danger level three is my bet," Robert says.
"You're already evaluating?" I ask Robert and he nods.
"It calms me down." He says.
"And he's almost always right," Crissy adds on.
"You two are something else," I say with a sigh. Each kid was like that though. A scream for their parents all the way to the stage as they are manhandled by a reaper and dragged around crying for anyone to help them. One even grabbed my shirt as he was being chosen.
"That was number 29, now for our final person." The man says with a huge grin. The children on the stage, all horrified. Robert had rated most around danger level 5 but a few were 7 out of 10 and one 8.
"Finally John Harner"
ns 15.158.61.8da2
