Today is the day - the day I've been dreading since I was four. It is the day that will decide the rest of my life; it's Testing Day. Just now I sit at the table with my family, stomach knotted tightly. Faye, my sister, looks happy, confident, as she always does. She glances over at me and flashes a wide smile. She is beautiful, like my mum, with long golden hair and icy-blue eyes. People often mistake them for twins; they look the same, act the same, speak the same. She and Mum are two of the reasons I know I don't belong. They are just like the others; selfless, obedient, smart and believers in conformity. I try to believe, I do. I try to keep my mouth shut, remain polite, think of others, be like Faye. But I'm not like them, I'm just not. I have known since I was a toddler that something wasn't right, that I didn't belong, but I grew up to act, to pretend, so nobody would have to know.
"Bea," Faye speaks, "You aren't eating."
I look down at my plate. "I'm not hungry."
All three of them exchange small knowing smiles.
"You know there's nothing to worry about," Dad says, placing a hand on my shoulder, "The tests are easy and painless. And for tomorrow; there's no way you'll be near the top. You'll be in the 600s like your mother and I."
"And me," Faye chirps happily as she finishes her last spoonful of rice, “And he’s right; the tests are easy. Just do your best.”
I continue to stare at my food, moving the rice around, until I'm the only one left sitting. The section of table lit through the windows grows closer and closer as the sun sets lower and lower. I watch sadly as the yellow begins to consume my hand, as time was my mind. I don’t conform, I never have. I’d fail the tests, I’d rank high, I’d be killed. But maybe my rebellious mind isn’t a sign of high ranking; maybe you have to be really different. Nobody really knows what causes Rankers to achieve the numbers they do. There are rumours that it’s genetic, meaning I have nothing to worry about, or that their brains are different… and that’s the thing that worries me. I am different; I don’t get the same grades the other girls do, I don’t have the urge to rush to others’ side when they need it, I don’t believe in simplicity, I don’t believe in the Federation, and I sure as hell don’t wish for an ordinary life. But maybe that’s not the kind of ‘different’ they mean, maybe I’m just socially awkward. To others though, I’m normal; plastic, robotic, like them. I taught myself to keep the feelings locked deep inside of me just in case I am the kind of ‘different’ they speak of. If I am – and I had shown it – then I wouldn’t have made it to my fifteenth birthday. And now, I’m starting to question if I’ll make it to sixteen. Because, today, they will get inside of my mind and test me until I break. Today they will see how much of a threat I am to the Federation. Today I can’t hide who I am. Today… might be my last.

“Bea,” Faye smiles over at me as we walk towards the main hall, “You look as pale as a ghost.”
This reminds me to look confident. I hold my back straighter, force a smile and concentrate on rhythmically moving as she was.
“I’m fine,” I say as sweetly as possible.
Mum places an arm around my shoulder and holds me close to her, making it harder to walk co-ordinately.
“The tests aren’t real, just remember that,” she whispers into my ear, “Be yourself and you’ll be judged rightly.”
But I was planning to do the opposite.
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you what happens in it,” Faye flicks her ponytail behind her, speaking loudly, “I would if I could, you know that.”
I purse my lips and pull away from Mum, so I can concentrate on my walking again. I try to think of something else, to draw my mind away from the thought of the Test, but an ache forming in my throat makes it difficult. Up ahead, the main hall stands tall, a pillar of grey in an otherwise blue sky. People crowd around it like moths to a light. I can tell from my position across the street that they are kids from my school and their parents. I recognise some teachers though, obviously there to wish us luck.
“We can’t come in with you,” Mum tells me as we wait for an opportunity to cross the tarmac, “But we’ll stay for the ceremony if you want.”
I look over at her and nod stiffly.
“Once you’re in, you’ll split into your generic hundreds. Which means 600 for you,” she continues, “Then, one-by-one, you’ll be called in. They’ll ask you a few questions, then lay you down for the test. You’ll do just fine. Afterwards, we can go out for dinner with Dad; we’ll meet him at his work.”
She leans down and kisses my forehead, her soft lips brushing my tanned skin. I close my eyes, brushing a single tear away. I have to stay with them; I have to make it through the test – fake the answers and reactions. I overheard a girl in my class, Nia, say that the tests were never the same for one person, that they were based on your own memories and fears.
“Come on you two,” Faye says, “We need to cross.”
“Of course,” Mum pulls away, and I see her eyes are teary.
Together we cross in silence and enter the buzzing crowd. I glance around, trying to see a familiar face. I don’t have friends; I have classmates. But in Ellerar, anyone talks to anyone like life-long companions.
“See anyone you know?” Faye asks as she notices me scanning the crowd.
“No,” I reply awkwardly. She thinks I’m like the other kids, she thinks I get along with everyone. But the kindness, honesty, chastity and seriousness of the other girls annoy me. Where is the fun if everyone likes the same song? Reads the same books? Does the same activities? I have been craving for diversity since I started primary school. Of course, this was one of the things I kept buried deep inside of me.
Suddenly, loud feedback blares over the noise of the crowd, making people flinch and turn their attention to the stage. A woman stands, holding the microphone away from her face and cringing. She is Gayle Wallace, the President of Ellerar. She has short, blondish-white hair that sits in a strangely-round bob, dull green eyes, skeletal figure, pointed chin and porcelain looking skin, whiter than her hair.
“Good afternoon citizens,” she announces with a painfully wide smile once the feedback stops, “Today is a special day. It is the first of three that decide your children’s future. The first of three that set them in the right direction and allow them to grow into strong and obedient members of the community, whether it be right here in Ellerar or another constituency.”
It’s the same speech they used for Faye’s ceremony, so I zone out momentarily, already knowing the words.
“Let us repeat our anthem together,”
This is where I break out of my daze and force myself to concentrate. Our anthem is less of a song, and more of a chant. Gayle clears her throat and begins; “I am a member of a community. I am honest, valiant, selfless and strong.”
Everyone joins in, including me.
“I believe in the Federation and all it stands for. I will do my part to build a better future. I believe in righteousness towards others, an incorrupt civilization and penance for the sins of my ancestors. I believe in The List and the order it brings to mankind. Long live Dauhn.”
Mum squeezes my hand almost painfully and gives it a small shake. Dauhn is the collection of the five cities: Kloer, built for 2500-2000 Rankers; Aurrean, built for 2000-1500 Rankers; Piredien, built for the 1500-1000 Rankers; Ellerar, where I live, built for the 1000-500 Rankers; and lastly, Lucius, the main city built for 500 and higher Rankers. If I get ranked any higher than 500, I’ll have to leave my parents and continue education in Lucius. I can’t let that happen; Lucius is a bloodbath. In Lucius, Ranking means power, and power means fame. People kill to make it to the top, to them it’s all a game. I need to stay in Ellerar, where it’s safe, where maybe if I stay long enough, I’ll belong. I concentrate on Mum’s hand, using it to keep myself grounded. If I didn’t have it to cling onto, I would fall flat on my face.
“Speaking only to our adolescents now,” Gayle says, flashing a smile, “I’d like to remind each one of you the reason we named Dauhn what we did. ‘Dawn’ represents the stage in which the sun appears on the horizon, signalizing the beginning of a new day. Dauhn, like the sun, rose from the darkness of the war, signalizing the beginning of an incorrupt and ideal civilization. These tests, though they will push you to your limit, signalize the beginning of a new life – a new life for each and every one of you – a peaceful life, an honest life, a happy life, but most important of all; a fulfilling life. Today, in order for this to happen, you must stay true to yourself and perform to the best of your ability.”
She pauses, taking in the sea of people.
“Which I’m sure each of you will,” she eventually finishes with a quick nod of her head and dashing smile. There is something surreal about her though, something menacing, something threatening.
“I now hand you over to the capable hands of Mr. Loom, the principle of Ellerar High.”
Mr. Loom – a tall, grey haired, square-faced man with the same brown suit and glasses each day – walks on stage, carrying a crumpled piece of paper. He fumbles with the microphone, trying to position it for himself.
“Gayle Wallace is such a good speaker,” Faye whispers in my ear as we wait for Loom to get a hold on himself.
I observe the way Gayle stands to the side, watching him with a placid and understanding expression. Except, if I look close enough, I can make out the simple signs of annoyance; eyes burning, jaw set, feet gently tapping, clenched fists. I try to hide a smile; she too has problems controlling her emotions. Perhaps I’m not that different after all. But then I remember; Gayle Wallace is ranked in the 100s. A weight drops to my stomach and I squeeze Mum’s hand tightly to keep my balance. I’m not going to make it, even in Lucius; I’m going to die.
“Morn-Eve-Afternoon students…and parents…and teachers… um, civilians, I’m Mr. Loom, as Miss Wallace told you. I am going to remind you of a few things before the Testing proceeds.”
Loom’s hands are shaking, I can see them from here.
“Um, so, first of all; parents aren’t allowed in the Testing rooms. There are waiting rooms for relatives, but participants will be separated after, uh, after this… um, my speech, I mean. And, also, no food or drink permitted from this point forward or an hour after the testing. Uh…where am I… oh yes; If there are reactions to the serums – as in allergies or…stuff – medical practices will be performed. It is normal for nausea, fainting, seizures, nose bleeds, headaches, vomiting…”
The list went on, and I felt my eyes grow wider and wider. My stomach writhed and squirmed with each possible side effect. When Faye came home from her Testing she wouldn’t stop vomiting and was constantly doubled over the toilet. The entire crowd grew deathly quiet, listening to him babble. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gayle shake her head and colour rush to her face.
“But there’s no need to be afraid kids,” Mr. Loom adds brightly on the end, “All symptoms are treatable…I think. So anyway, after testing, you’ll be sent home with your families and expected to return for the Listing tomorrow, as the rest of Ellerar is. Um,” he looks at a loss for words, his red face moving over the crowd, “S-so, um, good luck, have fun, uh – enjoy yourself…don’t be scared be – be – be strong. Uh, yeah, that’s all…let the Tests commence.”
A wave of encouraging applause makes Mr. Loom let out a relieved sigh and retreat from the microphone. I try to join in, to forgive him for the nerves and wasted five minutes of my life, but it feels fake… just like the anthem, just like Gayle’s persona, just like my entire life. It’s feelings like this that prove I don’t belong, no matter how much I try. I’m not good enough to be selfless, honest, kind, faithful. Faye is, Mum is, Dad is. They are ‘followers’ as my teacher would say, people like me and Gayle aren’t; we are ‘leaders’. I let go of Mum’s hand, wipe the sweat away on my dress and stand up straighter, staring ahead in determination. I’ve had a change of plan: I’m going to complete the test honestly as there’s no other way; then I’m going to eat dinner with my family; then I’m going to sleep in my own bed, pretending it’s not my last time doing so; then I’m going to find out my number; and then I’m going to wait... because they will come, and when they do, I’ll be ready. They aren’t going to get me without a fight. I won’t conform. I won’t.

“Group C1,” a monotone, female, voice calls over the speaker.
That’s my group.
I push myself up from the plastic chair I had been sitting on and swallow the lump forming in my throat. A few other kids, some nervous-looking, others as placid as always, get up and walk towards the exit with me. They had placed us in the cafeteria, split into five rows; 900s, 800s, 700s, 600s and 500s. When you don’t have a number yourself, you are placed under your father’s. So just now I sit at 652. It doesn’t change much each year; I usually stay in the 650s.
I have to push past a couple of people socializing, but other than that it’s a clean path to the exit. Meaning it will be easy for me to walk with the same confidence the others do.
“C1,” the voice repeats.
“Hey! Hey you!” a boy shouts. I falter slightly, heel stepping on the compulsory grey rags all Ellerians wear. What kind of 500 would be so disrespectful? Usually they would say something like; “Excuse me,” or “Ma’am?”. I glance quickly to the side to see who had said it. A tall, lean, wolf-like boy with a mop of dark brown hair and hungry grey eyes, returns my stare. I swallow the lump again, wondering stupidly if it was my heart and it had leapt to my throat.
“Yeah you,” he smiles slyly at me and his friend chuckles beside him, “I think you’re in the wrong place. Kloer is on the other side of Dauhn.”
I don’t know what to say, the colour rushes to my face. This meant he thought I was ugly and insignificant. I turn to keep walking, feeling suddenly unconfident.
“Stop picking on the blanks,” his friend scolds him through a smile.
“As soon as I’m out of here,” the boy yells after me, ignoring him, “I’ll send you a postcard!”
What does he mean? He knows that he’s leaving as well? How can he tell? Half of me wants to turn around and ask him, but the other, sensible half, warns me to stay away; Rankers are dangerous. But I could be a Ranker…am I dangerous? People say that they are, and that’s why the Federation hates them.
“C1,” the voice says, “Final call.”
I pick up my pace, having to hold my dress up slightly to avoid tripping on it. I reach the door alongside another boy. He smiles and holds it open for me.
“I hope they aren’t waiting for us,” he says.
I smile back up at him to be polite and pass through the doorway, “Thank you.”
A group of thirty or so kids are waiting on the other side, standing in silence in the white hallway. I tuck a wisp of my honey-brown hair behind my ear, feeling awkwardly intimidated by the other girls’ beauty.
“And who are you?” someone beside me asks.
It takes me a moment before I realise the question was directed at me. I look to my right; a woman is standing with a clipboard and kind smile.
“Oh, me? Sorry. I’m Bealle, Bealle Carter,”
She ticks something off of the clipboard and looks over at the boy now standing beside me, “And you?”
“I’m Lou, Lou Campbell,” he replies.
“Alright,” she ticks off another thing and quickly scans her list, “Looks like we have everyone.”
Lou looks down at me and grins. I smile back.
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” the woman speaks louder, though the level of volume she had before was fine, “The rooms set aside for Testing are through the doors ahead. I’m going to assign each of you your rooms beforehand though, so you know where to go. Deirdre, room 13a; Hanna, room 13b; Luca, 14a; Lou, 14b; Bealle, 14c; Fern, room 15; Joseph, 16a; Gabe, 16b; Rhys, 17a; Leah, 17b; Jordan, also 17b – the rooms are split; Rett, 18a; Terra, 18b; Kara, 18c; Dray, room 19; and Mona, room 21b. Can those I called out please go to your assigned rooms and those I didn’t – stay; I need to give you yours.”
I take a deep breath. ‘You can’t avoid it,’ I remind myself, ‘No point running. Just face the music.’
“I’ll walk with you,” Lou says from beside me; he had been watching me.
“Thanks,” I reply, needing the company.
Walking side by side, we make our way towards the double doors at the end of the hallway. I feel like crying, I feel like running, I feel like disappearing into thin air and never returning; I don’t want to do this.
“So what number are you just now?” Lou asks.
“Um,” I clear my throat so it will sound as even as his, “652.”
“I’m in the 600s as well. Do you think you’ll change much?”
I walk through the doorway as I think about my answer.
“Who can tell, right?”
“The Federation will, after the Test,”
He says it so frankly I feel sick to the stomach. People believe so strongly in the Federation here, but to me, they are my executors. I don’t want them to see my results, I don’t want them to rank me; I don’t want to die. My voice shakes, I can hear it myself; “Yeah, I – I guess so.”
I read the numbers on the door as we walk past, trying to distract my mind. The rest of the group has spread – some falling behind, others venturing ahead in excitement – but the entire time Lou stayed close to me. I’d miss that; the good-heartedness of Ellerians – ‘12c’ – the way they know when you’re upset – ‘13a’ – the kindness in their eyes – ‘13b’ – their genuine smiles – ‘14a’ – Mum and Faye’s golden locks – ‘14b’ – Dad’s gentle laugh – ‘14c’ – everything, I’d miss everything. A quiet sob bubbles up from my throat and I turn away from Lou to let it out. Luckily, he didn’t notice. I reach my door, now alone, and wipe the tears hastily from my eyes. There’s a glass window in the oak doors, one I can see through if I stand on my tip-toes. I do so, struggling to keep my balance while my stomach seems to weigh a tonne. I make out a bed with white sheets stationed in the middle, a desk obviously pushed to the side for the purpose of this activity, a tall leaf plant huddled in the corner and a mirror opposite the door. A woman with hair so short I almost thought she was a boy suddenly comes into view, walking around from the other side of the bed. I immediately notice something different about her; she doesn’t hold herself like an Ellerian and doesn’t have the permanently welcoming expression moulded into her harsh features. In fact, she is the opposite of welcoming, she is… intimidating. She is wearing all-black clothes to match her hair, contrasting against her pale skin. I watch her raise her hand in the air and beckon me in without turning to see if I was there. How had she known? I look to the side, where Lou is still patiently waiting for his tester to let him in. He catches my eye and smiles encouragingly; “Good luck, Bealle. Do well.”
“You too,” I mumble, trying not to vomit as I open my mouth.
My fingers wrap around the cold metal of the handle and, with a few deep breaths, I push the heavy door open.
“Bealle,” the woman greets me in a bored voice, “I’m Demi. Welcome to your Test.”
I don’t reply. I rub my arm nervously and look at the mirror hanging on the wall. My icy-grey eyes stare back at me, and I see they are glassier than usual from the tears. They are this strange, cold, silver colour thanks to my Dad’s deep grey ones and Mum’s icy-blues. My skin is the same as Dad’s; tanned like caramel. My nose is small and slightly turned-up at the end and my face is fairly round, but my high cheekbones help elongate it a little more. My hair is a honey-brown that grows golden in sunlight and reaches the bottom of my ribcage when straight. I am in the middle of short and average height and am skinny, very skinny; I have no muscle.
“Now, they’ve given me you because I had your sister, Fayble, two years ago,” Demi continues, now on the opposite side of the bed, “Her test was quick and easy, like yours is going to be. It’s gonna be a long day for me and I want it to be over as quickly as possible, so if you’re gonna have a mental-breakdown then I’ll kick you out and you can do it next year when you’re all grown up. Kapeesh? Hop on the bed.”
Her harshness mentally numbs me and I find myself moving towards the bed in a daze.
“You’re from Lucius, aren’t you?” I ask as I haul myself up onto the hard mattress.
“Yeah,” I hear a hint of a smile in her voice, “That obvious, huh?”
I don’t reply, just spin myself round and lie down. But as my head hits the fabric a fresh wave of panic washes over me; this is when they’re going to see…this is when they are going to find out I’m different. Tonight, while I lay in bed, the Federation will receive my results and place me on the ranks; I’m going to die. I try to sit up again, but Demi’s hand on my shoulder pushes me back down. My breathing quickens.
“Don’t have second thoughts,” she warns in a low voice, “You’ll do fine. Look at you… then look at me. You belong here.”
The tears are welling up now, stinging my eyes and hurting my throat. I’m doing everything I can to stop my body from heaving and blowing chunks all over the white fabric. I can’t see Demi’s face properly through the tears but I can make out her cruel smirk, one of amusement.
“Toughen up kid,” she practically laughs, “There’s no chance you’ll be a Ranker, especially from the looks of you…”
What is that supposed to mean? I sniff and try to control myself.
“Where you born in Lucius?” I ask with a shaky voice.
I feel her press something into each of my temples, something that sticks to my skin.
“Yes,” she replies, a little defensively, “Why?”
“I just, I…” I take a deep, shaky breath and ask; “How often do transfers come in?”
“Transfers?”
“Yeah,”
“Um, well, not in a while…we, uh, the transfers… the Federation…” she pauses, at a loss for words, before growling angrily; “You know what happens to our transfers. Not that it’s anyone’s business but ours.”
This keeps me silent, only making noise to take a few quivering breaths and sniffs. By that point I had wires attached to my head and palms. They are uncomfortable, cold, stinging. I hear a beeping noise and a few taps before Demi leans over me.
“Okay, you are attached to a machine that displays your simulation for me to watch live and records it for the database. Tonight, members of the Federation may have the option to view your Test, including your results. Remember to stay true to yourself and yeah, yeah; you know the drill…”
A sharp stinging in my arm makes me gasp and clench my eyes shut hard. Another single tear strolls down my cheek and I find my head spinning for a second. Then… nothing. Is something supposed to happen? I open my eyes carefully.
“Demi?”
But I’m no longer in the office.