All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Castings- Chapter 1
Cold air swam around me; my choppy hair and bangs fly-away in the night. Only one of us had any source of light, although the one seemed to be enough. Catridge held a glowing lantern while he led our little group, all smuggling around him for warmth. The single licking flame inside of the glass orb was so precious. Too precious to let go, and we all knew this very well. Catridge was hunched over in the same fashion that I was, and even as he wrapped his jacket around the two of us our heads were exposed. My face had stung for hours, until it had finally gone numb and I felt nothing at all. The wind wouldn’t stop; wouldn’t stop whipping particles of salt at us. I gently lay my palm against my face, to find that it was wet and somewhat grainy from the plastered salt. But still, we had no choice. Because 6 hours ago now, the five of us had taken our chance to go. We had run away and were never going back. Not to that wretched place.
Now wait, before you freak and bug us about leaving our families. Or perhaps lecture me on how I was ruining my life. Because the fact is, I’m saving it. We no longer had family, and our executions were to be tommorow. At 8:05. I blinked back cloudy tears when I thought of them, handing me the card and stamping my hand. Closing the door without and word and leaving me alone in soft silence. In red bold lettering across the top of my left hand, the number 341 lingered; in bright red ink. The number that meant I was one of them. I remember how I gasped, so hard I almost didn’t want to breathe again. I wasn’t- couldn’t be- not one of-… But it was true and I knew well that in mere hours I wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. I realized I wouldn’t have to think about college or a job, or my best friend. I realized I would be dead.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 1 comment.