Note: I'm am new to this, and this is my first story I've published. But just so you know, I am not capable of adding any humor whatsoever. This is mainly serious. But reviews will be highly appreciated and whatnot. Thanks for reading!

Everyone stood in perfect rows, no words were spoken, no infants were crying. There was nothing. A deathly silence that sent chills to your bones. There was no movement, no sign of life in them. Only the small increase of their chest when they inhaled revealed that they weren't statues. All, watched intently at a screen placed high, so everyone can see.

Then the names started to appear. The first one. Kale Bowman. The baker. He was a quiet man, very tall and thin. Around the age of twenty nine. Began cutting his way through the ocean of people. But not one person, dared to look away from the screen. Then came the second name. Vernon Quilts. The clothier. He was about as tall as me, but I wasn't as strong as he was. Started his way through. Then the third one, Klayra Melson. A person I didn't know. But, as she moved past me, the only thing I noticed was she had the same dark skin as me.

As more of the names kept appearing, more and more people began cutting their way through. Some I recognized, one of the miners, Jake Flayson, the blacksmith's apprentice Lyra Veil, and my neighbor, Hal Kaultyn.

More names appeared, and a few had belonged to children. Roughly over the age of six and seven. I heard some of them sobbing, as they made their way. I glanced down as they passed by, they were small, very small, just above my hips. And I couldn't do anything, but watch as they made their way to absolute death.

As more people were being chosen, the more people kept a keen eye on the screen. Then, the last and final name. Those remaining, which was still a great number, burned their imprints on the screen. Waiting. Then it appeared. Atlas Pope. Me. The man who had never even used a weapon, in fact, never even held one a day in his life. Was going into the Trials.

I swallowed the heavy lump inside my throat. Then began making my way. The crowd now was loose, filled with relief, at least those who weren't chosen. Some began placing their hands on my shoulders as I continued forward. Then one man, stopped me in my tracks. My brother. One final hug, but no words were exchanged. He nodded, then I began once again. Into the darkness it seemed. A living hell surely. And this was just the beginning. The beginning of a something that will mark an everlasting change on everyone's life, those around, and those who knew me.