Spellman

    Every year when the selection nears, all the kids in my class get so excited. Sure new lives in the capital might sound exciting, adventurous, and glamorous even, but ever sense my big brother Lance told me what really happens-- I try my hardiest and make sure I don’t pass.

    Who’d want to spend the rest of their lives doing chores for those stuck up Nobles.. I think they’re just the worst! Always frolicking down the streets, clanking there wooden shoes against the cobblestone, hairpieces whiter then grannies Sunday morning pudding, and that smell resembling sunflowers drenched in the sweat of an old hog. I can’t stand it.

      I just hope that all those rumors my brother told me really aren’t true, because yesterday when I took the selection—I was chosen.