I have been an orphan since I was born. My father was executed and my mother died during childbirth. One day after I was born, I was sent to the only orphanage in our enclave, an old broken down one room school house inhabited by wildlife. The only place I could be myself was in the small gym just outside the great stone walls surrounding us. The people of my enclave-one of the seven surrounding the dome-is only allowed outside once every two weeks. The gym is full of workout equipment, but not enough so that we get too strong. Despite being allowed out only once every two weeks, I sometimes try to sneak out through a small hole that I made by digging out loose stone with an axe. I’ve been arrested before, but that doesn’t keep me from still doing it. The watchmen usually only let me off with a warning, but not everyone gets a warning. One of the other orphans tried to sneak out and he got caught. The last anyone saw of him was the watchmen leading him to the old court building inside our enclave. Ten months later, a groundskeeper found a small skeleton behind the courthouse, half covered up by old boards.

“Rust!” Vex calls for me, “Let’s get going! We’re going to be late for the ceremony of remembrance!"

“I’m coming!” I shout back as I grab my sack of food for the day and stuff a few coins in my pocket that I scavenged. Nothing is easy to obtain in the enclaves. The dictator has the watchmen remove anything that could be used to overthrow the government and him, only leaving the bare essentials and hardly anything to trade or buy with. The ceremony of remembrance is held every month in honor of when the dictator was a shining light in the darkness after all but some of the world was destroyed in a nuclear war. At the ceremony, we sacrifice half of our income that we make to go to the rebuilding of the dome, a protective force field around the capitol to protect it and its inhabitants. No one in the enclave ever wants to attend, but if you don’t, there are consequences. Not too long ago, a neighbor of mine hid at home. The watchmen found him, and burned him alive at a public execution after stuffing him in a barrel. At night, I can still hear his shrill screams in the darkness.

“Hurry up!” Vex yells. I snap out of my daydream and hurry out the door of my rundown shack that I purchased by saving up money for five years.

“I wonder what we’ll need to do this year?” Vex asks me.

“I don’t know, I respond, but I hope it isn’t as bad as last year.” I respond to him, shuddering at the thought of it. Another part of the ceremony is an act of appreciation the watchmen make us do. Every eighteen year old has to participate, and this year, Vex and I both hit the age this year and dread what is coming. Last year, they made everyone compete in a series of deadly challenges. Multiple people were killed and the last ten to finish were shipped off to the capitol to serve as a slave to the dictator.

“Whatever it is, we both need to stay here no matter what, or run away, because I am not going to serve the dictator.” Vex states. On the way, we meet up with my girl, Ivy Drift.

“I can’t believe we have to do this!” she exclaims, “Why don’t we just run away!”

“It’s too risky,” I reply, “There are too many people around us and we can’t just make a run for it. The watchmen would catch us.”

“Actually, she has a point,” Vex pipes up, “If we can make a distraction somewhere else, we might be able to get through the hole in the wall. We have nothing to lose here.” All of us were orphaned. Not many people live past the age of forty anymore, and all our parents had died, either by execution or childbirth. Many people tried to defy the government, but not many got off with it. Suddenly a thought jumps into my head.

I have just the plan,” I respond, but we’ll need to turn around and go back home to get weapons.

The door slams into the wall as I barge into my shack. I rush to the back of the dilapidated building and grab my axe and a small pocketknife on my bedside table. As soon as I grab them, I am already running out. We plan to meet up at the chapel, no longer used in religious practices, but as a museum for the old days of the nuclear war and the dictator. Ivy is already there, but Vex hasn’t appeared yet.

“Where is he?” I ask, “Did you see him on your way?”

“No,” Ivy responds, “But he lives all the way across the enclave, so he could take a while to get back.”

Let’s wait for five more minutes, and if he isn’t here by then, we go through with the plan without him.”

“Okay,” she agrees. Suddenly, a shrill scream rings out.

“Let’s go!” I yell, “This might be our chance to escape, and we won’t even need to use force.” We start running toward the hole in the stone, when I catch a glimpse of the public square. I plant my heels in the ground and skid to a halt. Vex is being beaten by watchmen, his dagger he scavenged a few years ago, lying on the ground ten feet away. I can tell he has been shot multiple times, by holes leaking blood. He lays on the ground, watchmen surrounding him. Without thinking, I charge in. Vex sees me and tries to yell at me to stop, but all that comes out of his mouth is blood. At this point, he doesn’t even look like the friend I have known for so long.

I toss the sack of apples to the side, and brandish my axe. Blindly, I start swinging at the watchmen. My axe gets stuck in one of them, so I yank my pocketknife from my dirty pocket. As I try to fend them off, Ivy runs in to help. By now, people are realizing that we have an advantage in numbers over the watchmen and they pick up anything they can to fight. My axe finally falls free from the watchmen’s chest and I pick it up. The square is in chaos, a revolt breaking out. The watchmen try to keep us down, but there are too many of us. As the watchmen are distracted, I run over to Vex and check on him. His face is bruised and bloody, half of an ear missing, and blood soaks his thin cheap shirt, turning it crimson. I kneel down next to him.

“Hey, I’ll get help,” I reassure him, “Just stay here and don’t move.” I turn to leave but he grabs my shirtsleeve.

“Don’t leave me,” He gurgles, “I’m not going to make it, but I want you to escape and–” his voice cuts off and he falls limp.

“To do what?” I plead, “Please Vex, you can make it, I know you.” But I realize he is gone, his soul left him. I gently lay him down and wipe away all the blood with my shirt. “I’ll make sure that the dome is never repaired,” I whisper in his ear, “and that there is never a ceremony in honor of the filthy dictator again.” Then I leave him.

There is no time for mourning right now, not when we have the upperhand on the government. Vex’s dagger is laying on the ground, so I grab it and fasten it to my waist using my belt. After doing that, I run over to find Ivy. I find her in a fierce battle with one of the watchmen. She is already fatigued and can’t last for much longer. Promising to myself that I won’t let another of my friends die, I whip out the dagger and slice the watchman across his back. As he falls to his knees, Ivy finishes him off with a quick jab of a kitchen knife, a rarity in the enclaves.

“Let’s go!” I urgently tell her, “Vex has passed on and he would want us to take this chance to escape.”

She stifles a sob, but then follows me along alleyways and through wheat fields to the hole in the wall. To keep watchmen from not discovering my secret, I fill the hole back in with stones loosely each time, so Ivy and I need to pull all the stones out to get through. The heavy stones are hard work, but my time from sneaking out and visiting the gym has helped, and in half an hour, we have a gap. Ivy goes through first and I follow.

Familiar scents of the outside world reach my nose as I take in the view. Ivy doesn't get out as much as me, so she stands there, staring at everything. Our enclaves are surrounded by walls and not much landscape inhabits them, so everything out here is new for her. Pretty soon, we have to go, though, or else the watchmen from the capitol will catch up to us. I can see the bright blue dome surrounding the capitol city and all its inhabitants, from where I stand, and there are bound to be capitol guards-known as watchmen in the enclaves, for how they follow our every move-patroling the perimeter. Suddenly, Ivy talks.

“What are we going to do now?” she asks, “since we’re between the capitol and ring of enclaves.”

I realize that I never thought of what would happen after we escaped. I always just focused on getting out and not looking back.

“I guess we try to get into the capital,” I respond. But before I can say anymore, a string of bullets flies just above our heads, gouging off chunks of rocks on the thick stone walls surrounding the prison-like home we just escaped.

Without thinking, I dive to the ground and pull Ivy with me. Right now, we are concealed in the long grass, but pretty soon I hear the soft padding of a watchman's old fashioned cavalier boots coming closer. And closer. And closer. With nothing else to do, I carefully and silently pull Vex’s dagger from my belt, and prepare for the worst.

The footsteps stop not far in front of our hiding place in the grass and I hold my breath, not wanting to give us away.

“I heard you,” says a young man or at least someone who sounds like one, “If you reveal yourselves right now, the punishment for rebellion will not be as harsh as it usually is.” I can tell he is lying right now and I stay plastered to the ground, but Ivy starts to rise and before I can pull her back to the ground, the watchman sees her.

“Stand up,” he orders us. Knowing that our hiding spot has already been found, I stand up slowly, concealing the dagger behind my back. If I played this right, he might be dead before he knew what hit him.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks us, “and how did you get out here? The Enclavians-the capitol's name for us-are only allowed in the meadow once a month, and enclave 5-us-was out there a week ago.”

Trying to respond, I stammer, but Ivy recovers for me and speaks to him.

“We were let out to tell the capitol about a revolt happening in there,” she says, “The people have turned against our ‘wonderful’ guardians and we thought we should warn you.” Obviously most of what she said wasn’t true, and she would never call the watchmen wonderful, but we need all the help we can get if we want to escape.

“Is that true?” the watchman asks, eyeing us suspiciously, “Because they could have just hit the alarm button in the courthouse that sends a warning to all of us through our ‘telekinetic’ link.” All the watchmen had to have a communication chip implanted in their ear drum when they graduated the Academy, so that they would always be in contact with the enclaves surrounding the capitol.

This time, I come up with the excuse, “There were too many revolters, and they overpowered them. They never even got close to the courthouse.”

“If that’s so, I’ll call backup and you can get back inside the walls.” He marches us to the nearest entrance, a large rusted iron gate, barely able to keep wild animals out, but enough to keep us in. The watchman scans his fingerprint and a small digital disk attached to his belt. Knowing this is our last chance to escape, I reach behind myself and pull the dagger from the waistband of my pants. In a split second, the watchman is on top of me, spotting my movement out of the corner of his eye.

“I knew I shouldn’t trust you,” he says, as he grinds his knee into my back and pins my arms behind me. I slide the blade to Ivy, and she lunges for him, but before she can strike, the watchman shoots her with a shockwave from his wrist, sending her sprawling to the ground groaning in agony.

“I always wanted to use this,” he shows me a small metal circle implanted in his wrist, the top of it just peaking out above his skin, with a small hole in the center. The whole thing buzzes with electricity, “This shock box is filled with 15000 volts of electricity, able to knock out a grown rhino.” I have never seen a rhino besides in pictures, but I knew they were the largest land mammal after elephants had gone extinct.

“I’m surprised your friend is even still alive,” he puzzles, “Anyway, you need to get back in your enclave.” He gives me a shove as the iron gate opens, and pushes me back in the prison I call home. I stumble and fall, and he gives me a quick yet hard kick to the ribs, accompanied by a sharp laugh. As he closes the door, I try to pull myself back up to my feet and fall again. I see Ivy, laying out in the long grass.

“What about her?” I yell, “Give her back to me.” The watchman just laughs his bitter laugh again and smiles.

“You won’t be able to help her anyway, there’s no way that a human withstands a shock that big. I might as well leave her here for the wild beasts to feast on.” With that, he turns away, whistling a strange tune I’ve never heard before. The thought of losing two of my best friends within an hour enrages me. I hurl my body at the gate, pounding on it, and screaming and wishing I was the one out there instead of her.

Finally, coming to my senses, I stumble through fields for over a mile, until I reach the hole in the wall. Wincing as I pull out the crudely laid stones, I make a hole large enough for me to wiggle through. I don’t care if the watchman finds me. I have nothing left to lose, and he will make my death shorter, instead of living out my days in a long sad decline, wishing I was never born in the first place. A burst of energy comes to me, and I start jogging, almost falling every step, and holding my bruised ribs.

At long last, I make it to Ivy, laying on the ground. I drop to her side, and cup my head in my hands.

“Crying won’t solve anything,” I think to myself, “Help!” I call through the gate. I don’t care if the watchman can hear me, I just want to help Ivy. A small old lady who looks like one of the worst victims of the poverty and unfairness of the capitol shuffles over to the gate.

“I don’t think you will be able to help her, child,” she speaks in a voice barely audible. I recognize her as one of the old orphanage caretakers, before the watchmen burned it to the ground, on strict orders from the capitol. No one still knows why, but a lot of lives were lost trying to put the fire out. The saddest was a small seven year old boy. Born with a rare disease, his parents left him out in a field-no one really blames them, if your children can’t help with money many of them are left on the streets-and while I was exploring one day, I found him there, he was only two years old at the time. Over the years, I took care of him, and grew so close, he was like a younger brother to me. On the deadly night when the burning flames were the only color in the dark, his life was taken.

I disregard what she says, and hoist Ivy up and over my shoulders, and start limping back to the hole in the wall. The journey is so hard, with the weight of someone on my shoulders, that I about give up. I have to push myself to the limits, just to keep taking one step in front of the other.

The minutes drag on, and finally, I make it to the hole. Taking a rest, I sit down before pushing Ivy up and through. After she goes through, I follow after.

“Help!” I call again, knowing I can’t do this by myself for any longer. A kid about my age comes running over.

“There is no one to help her,” he exclaims, “Weren’t you here when they took all the inhabitants of enclave 5 to the capitol? The dictator somehow found out about our revolt, and only a few of us were able to escape. We had to jump out of the moving heli-carrier and almost died while doing it. The watchmen only left the old women, as they won’t be any help in the capitol.” I sink to my knees in despair. My friend, whom I had known for so long, the one who on long summer nights would sneak out with me to hunt for food with makeshift bows, was going to die. Her pulse is slowing down rapidly, as I feel her neck with my two fingers.

Suddenly, the old woman who I had seen earlier, was at my side, a cold bucket of water in her hand.

“This might help,” she whispers in her raspy voice. I watch as she gently rips off strips of Ivy’s shirt and douse them in the water. After that, she lays the strips across Ivy’s body horizontally placing one next to the other. A piece of wood lays nearby, and she fetches it to prop up her legs.

“This will help her for a while. When I was tending to people in the orphanage, people would occasionally come in for me to treat their burn marks, from the watchmen.”

“Thank you,” I whisper in a muted voice. All three of us sit in a circle around Ivy as the sun starts to set.

The young man, whom I learn is named Kane Thornfeld, is the first to speak.

“We should move inside,” he says, “Even though there are no heaters or anything, we’ll have shelter, and we can start a fire.” I agree, and we get to work, moving Ivy and her rags.

A dingy, old rundown house is nearby, and though it would be a home for the non-capitol born citizens, if we lived there, it is a nice house in the enclaves. We quickly move Ivy’s still body into the shack, and start a fire. While Kane finds wood for a fire, Luna-the old woman-and I work on tending to Ivy. I find some moth-eaten blankets in a small hallway closet, and take them to Luna. We strip Ivy of her old, burned clothes, and wrap her in the blankets.

In not too much time, Kane is back, with an armful of logs. He tosses them in the fireplace, and then, with a box of matches he pulls from his pocket, he lights the fire. We slide Ivy next to it and step back.

“What happened at the revolt?” I question, trying to not let on that I tried to desert our enclave. Kane responds quickly.

“We were overpowering them, but then armed flyers appeared out of nowhere and started raining bullets down on us. Everything went down from there,” he ducks his head and looks at the ground. I remember his family, but not him. They were good people, and now they were all gone, probably to be tortured in the capitol, with its impenetrable dome.

A sudden gasp breaks my train of thought, and I look around the room, searching for who made the sound. My eyes fall on the producer, wrapped up in blankets at the fireplace. Ivy gasps for another breath, and then sits up.