On that day, the streets were grim and deserted, which was appropriate.
As we approached the Testing center, my legs shook so badly I could hardly walk.
Finally, we entered the classroom where the Test would be administered. This was it. The test that would ensure my future.
My one comfort was that my best friend Laney had been assigned to the same Testing room as I.
The tension in the room was palpable as we all waited for the proctor.
"Are you nervous?" Laney whispered to me, as if she could know how it felt. She had been ready for this Test since she was two and could say "assiduous".
"Only a little," I responded, as if this Test, the one that determined whether I lived or died, was no big deal.
To our left was the door to the Cleansing room, a room I desperately hoped I'd never see.
The room got its name from the harsh but necessary practice of putting to sleep those who were too unintelligent to prosper in society.
To our right was the door to freedom, the door leading to a life with no Test looming over my head, no constant fear of death.
I gave a longing stare in the direction of that door before the door to the classroom gave an ominous thud and the Test was underway…...