Bri's Own World

Nervously, I stepped towards the door, beckoned by the specific sequence of lights above it. It was more of an archway, I supposed. A portal of sorts into adulthood. If you passed the test on the other side.

Turning around, I wrung my hands and took one last look at my parents.

My platinum blonde mother, a neuroscientist, gave me a smile of expensive veneers and a thumbs up. My balding chemical engineer father just nodded.

I knew what that meant. The words had been reverberrating around my head for years. “When you turn thirteen, you will take a test. If you pass it, you will live happily ever after. If you don’t…” but he never finished that sentence. It always just hung there, an unnamed, silent threat. But as I grew, I filled in the blank for myself.

“You’re gonna fail!” was the schoolyard sneer. “And when you do, they’ll send you away!”

“Where to?” I sniffed.

“To a place where they’ll teach you to clean poop out of toilets!” Childish maniacal laughter often ensued next.

I gulped.

My best friend, Zia, took my hand as we entered the large, domed room.

“Good luck,” she whispered. I smiled grimly back, and we broke apart.

Brushing my long brown hair out of my face, I turned into the cubicle to my left, my name on the LCD screen above the entrance.

Carroway, Meg.

Here goes nothing.

Continued in PART TWO!

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