“You can do it...you can do it,” I command myself in the full length mirror hanging from the wall.
Today is perhaps one of the most important days of my life. It is the day I take my placement exam that determines which major you will be put into at the higher learning institution. Shakily I finish getting dressed for the day, I am adorned in a pair of navy pants and a grey button up with the number 84 on the cuff. Each year the society gives a number to every child born. I was the 84th child of the year so that is the number I was assigned, many of my other classmates have number ranging from 20 to over 200. I slip out of my room and jog to the end of my hall barely catching the last lift to the 97th floor where the test is administered. Not everyone gets invited to secondary school, for 75% of the world primary is the end, they didn’t pass, and would be taught trade jobs with little opportunity for advancement. Due to this pressure of the test looms over me and the memory of leaving my mother and family take over my mind almost daily.
I slip into the cool seat of table 84, the same number I was assigned on the first day of secondary, the …show more content…
I take my pre portioned meal and make way to one of the large tables spanning the Mess. So many thoughts travel through my head, but one continues to pop up. Do I even want to be overseer? I had never asked myself this in the past year, it was always just expected that Angelique or I would inevitably receive the title. My wants and dreams were never taken into the mix this whole time. I am just a walking statistic, one of a small group that could possibly fit the role. With this sour taste in my mouth I finish my tray and make my way to the commissioner. I must go alone. One hand clutched on the diary another on the wall I ride the lift to his office. Beep, Beep, Beep, the elevator alerts me of each passing floor.