The Name That Was Chosen

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
this short story is about seeing a ceremony to choose someone for a mysterious task. in the process the main character sees the name chosen and starts to describe the type of person connected to the name and her relationship with him.

Submitted: October 25, 2016

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Submitted: October 25, 2016



Day 1-Tuesday, November 15th, 2094

The Choosing Ceremony


I drew in a breath of hot, humid air as our instructor pressed the button that would randomize all of the names on her list, the one that appeared on the screen would be the name of the one chosen for a task not described to us in full detail, and although, I didn’t know what to expect, I was sure what I saw was much worse than anything I could have imagined. It was his name, the one name that could make my heart skip a beat no matter what. The beautifully, perfectly written name of someone I had cared about moment I saw him, when I first arrived in this strange town. The person who had made me feel alive again after losing everything. My friends, my family, everything about the life I used to know.

 It was the only name I said a hundred times, the only one that was able to make me laugh after what had happened. A name that once reminded me of the wind blowing through the cherry blossom trees on a cool summer day, but now filled me with regret and hopelessness. A name that once seen, could now make me feel as though my heart was being ripped into millions of pieces that were being ripped millions of times more. A name that caused me such an immense amount of pain, that it was hard to comprehend sometimes. The one name attached to the one person who could torment me, yet at the same time, make me fall in love with him all over again.

The screen went dark for a second, just before a video of him walking to receive his task was shown to the whole I now lived in. His dark brown cut short, military style. His tan khakis that are slightly too long on him paired with his scarlet collared shirt r that had wrinkles on it from not being worn in so long and his light brown hunting boots that cost more than my house. All of this matched with a person that I once believed could be good, could be better, one that thought the same of me. A person that was now onstage and smiling in front of hundreds of people listening to what an honor he thought it was that he had been chosen. If only they knew how he had gotten there. How cruel he had to be to those a cared about to be considered for the mysterious position to complete a task no one knew much about.

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