Hello, guys, so as I've said before, I will be re-writing my terribly written and cringey stories. This one is similar to the Selection, an amazing story by Kiera Cass, it won't be exactly the same though. For those of you who have already read all of this, please bear with me through my editing. It will take a while for more updates because I'm studying (supposed to be) for PSATS.
What you should know: This story takes place in futuristic America and it is now called Idris. However, some of the state names remain the same. Clary lives in North Carolina. New York is still called New York, but the city is called Alicante. The people have the same technology we do now, only they speak a little differently. They've gone back in time in their minds and not in their beings.
Clary POV
"No, I won't do it," I objected.
"Oh, Clary please just try!" My mother cries.
"No, what better am I than a dog selling on the street if I commit to this?!" I shout.
"Thousands of girls will do it, please this is an opportunity!" She persisted
"Yes, thousands, and thats only in our province, so what better chance do I have," I question. I can see that she's getting angry but I honestly can't bring myself to care.
A letter has just arrived in the mail. It is an application, one for me to sign up for the Selection. Where I would be chosen (or not) with 34 other girls to compete for the Prince's heart.
But I'm already in love, my mother doesn't know this, none of my family does. I'm in love with Simon Lewis. He's everything a girl could ask for. Simon is so caring and loving, I can't imagine being without him. And I most definitely can't imagine entertaining foolish lotteries for Prince Goldie.
Simon's so smart and funny, he's not particularly drop-dead handsome, but he's tall towering over my small frame, and his warm brown eyes and curly hair had drawn me in. Simon's what I would call "Nerd hot". It makes me chuckle to think about how he always has his nose in a book when he can find one.
There's only one problem. Simon is a Six, and I'm a five. In our system of castes in Idris, there are numbers 1-8. One's being royalty, and they get all the more degrading as the numbers go down.
Simon is a servant being a six, and I being a five am an artist. We can be singers, musicians, or artists. This being what I was born into is what my job had to be. But despite low income and food I was happy, I was happy with Simon and we planned to get married soon. We talk about having little auburn haired Simons and Clarys running around all the time.
I can only imagine what they'd say if they knew about Simon and I. "My daughter is beautiful, she can at least land a 4," they would say. So what would they say when I planned to marry a six? I'd have to become a six, living as a servant as Simon does. I'd have to raise children in an even smaller house than the one I live in now.
It doesn't matter to me though. I'm head over heels for the little nerd. The Selection is the complete opposite of the little universe Simon and I want to create. I wish I could tell mother about him, but coming up with excuses about why I would even bother to look at the application is much better than telling my parents about him.
"You could get lucky, imagine it!" My mother persisted.
"No mom, I don't want to do it," I say sternly.
"Will you stop thinking about yourself! Imagine what this could do for our family! We could have better than this!" She shouts. Her claims while selfish are not invalid.
If you were chosen for the Selection, monthly payments were sent to your home for your effort. Each week you stayed at the palace as a play thing for the Prince, your family receives money for food and such.
"We have enough Mom. And even if I did try, I'm not pretty enough! 'Chosen at random' you know they don't want ugly girls for the Prince!" I shout, finally starting to let my complete frustration through.
"Stop saying that, you are pretty, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Do it for us, for your family. Don't be like Jonathon," She pleaded, it was a low blow and she didn't have to see the look on my face to know it.
"You know I'd say that I didn't think you'd stoop that low to try and get me to do this but I expected it. It's not my fault that he left us, left his family behind to become a two," I spit resentfully. "More than enough money to help us and just left us!" I speak fervently.
"So just try, for us. What's so bad about living in the palace for a while?" She questions.
"Because this is my home, and I don't want there to be any possible way in which I have to endure pretending to like Prince Jonathan," his name left my lips with a burn and a nasty taste on my tongue. I can turn the other cheek to my envy of his wealth and riches. Ignoring his blatant disregard for our country is a different story.
"Fine then, throw this away! Throw our chance at living a better life away," the spite in her voice stings like acid, and with that she storms away.
How dare she, trying to guilt me into something using Jonathon. I only know of two Jonathons and both of them are not liked by me.
Ugh. My head is starting hurt with all of this drama
Staying in my room was harder than I thought it to be, it was soon time for dinner and I couldn't ignore the constant growling of my stomach.
Clambering off of my bed, I walked out my room and into the small hall. Making my way into the kitchen I saw my mother and little sister Clara gathering things to set the table.
Grudgingly I stepped in further to take the plates from the cupboard and set them on the small table we ate at.
Dinner was quiet, so the clearing of my mother's throat echoed through the house.
"Valentine darling, something arrived in the mail today," she starts.
He stiffens.
"It was an application for Clary to apply for the Selection," she says.
"...And," he says.
Apparently, she was expecting him to say more. "And she refuses to do it!" She bursts.
"I think it's her decision," he says. He winks at me. Finally, it seems as though someone is on my side.
"Clary, join the Selection? I don't think she's pretty enough", said my younger brother Max.
"Thank you, Max, that just boosted my self-esteem," I say. "Now I know who to come to comfort me when I'm feeling down,".
"Oooo Clary you could be a Princess, that sounds wonderful!" Clara says. Clara, the ever-exuberant light of our family, shines of innocence. If only we didn't live in the world we do now.
"Not a better one than you Pumpkin," I joke.
"Mom, can I have some more please?" Max asks, and we can hear an audible growl come from his stomach.
All the joking demeanor has left the air.
"There isn't anything left Max, can you wait until breakfast darling?" mother responded tersely.
He nods but the growls coming from his stomach didn't stop, piercing through the air they force me to think about what would happen if I really can provide more than we have.
This isn't fair, I don't care if it sounds childish but the responsibility to care for an entire family shouldn't fall on me yet. Maybe if the circumstances were different and I didn't have to give up my freedom I'd be more eager. Until then, I'll crank out drawings and paintings like never before.
Sighing, I help clear the table and then set off to my room where I wait hours until everyone has fallen asleep.
I've saved as much money as I could for the past few weeks, a couple cents a day, and bought a few extra bites of food, gathering it all I clamber as quickly and quietly as I can outside the window in my room
Checking to make sure no one is looking, I run across my small backyard and into the tiny tree house I spent my childhood in. What a sight it would be if I were to be caught after curfew now.
"Well hello there " a soothing voice came from the corner.
"Simon".
I quickly light the small candle in the tree house to illuminate the room.
"Look, I bought some stuff this week," I say proudly.
Simon has six siblings, and is always working to keep them fed along with his mother and often forgot himself. He took it upon himself when his brother was whipped publicly for stealing food.
That was the only time I had seen him cry and then he cried more that night in our tree house wailing softly into my arms.
I push the food towards him after taking a bite of the apple, I pretend as though I bought this for us to share, but I only intend for him to eat something. He was scarfing down the food, and along the way, we were talking about what we usually do.
Saving up money to get married, children, the lifestyle. And soon we graze upon the topic of the Selection.
"Simon I got an application for the Selection today, and gosh you should see how crazy mom went when I told her that I wasn't interested," I know that Simon will back me up. So he shocks me when he gets a hesitant look on his face.
"Clary, this is all wrong, don't you see it," he asks suddenly.
"What," I ask in disbelief. What on Earth, I expected Simon of all people to agree with me.
"Just this Clary," He gestures to the food left. "I want to provide for you, not the other way around. I love you but I'm a six. If we get married you'll be a six too. You're not used to the hard work, I love you too much to put you through that," he says.
"Simon, what are you saying?" I ask cautiously. He can't be expecting us to break things off now.
"I think you should try the Selection," his voice is soft trying to persuade me into standing in line for no reason.
"Absolutely not Simon, have you left your senses? Do I ever swoon at the thought of the Prince in front of you? Is that why you think he would be of any interest to me?" I've had enough of this nonsense by now. The next person can kiss my ass, or rather Prince Jonathon's since they all love him so much
"Just sign up, please I can't live with myself knowing that you could have had better than me," he pleads. Typical Simon always looking out for someone else.
I realize that I shouldn't be so hard on him. "I want nothing more than to be Mrs. Simon Lewis, what more can I ask for? You're all I've ever wanted Simon" I've softened my voice considerably.
"Clary, I don't think I could ever live with myself if I was always thinking "what if". What if Clary could have had better than this. Even if you're not chosen to marry the guy, which I'd hate, the money you'd receive from just being there would help you and your family. And I want what's best for you, please," he kisses me. His lips are soft and warm and welcoming, all of my concerns melt away. Like I said, there are thousands of girls signing up for this lottery, I may as well.
"I- ok fine," I give in. I don't care that Simon always kisses me to get what he wants, I'll do it for him.
"Thank you, that's my girl,". A smile adorns his face and his forehead creases with wrinkles of pre-mature stress. I can at least take some of it off of him.
I bid Simon goodnight and tell him to be careful not to get caught walking home. I climb out of the tree house and into my room with thoughts flying around my head like buzzing bees.
And even as I lay down on my bed they buzz.
It's settled then, I'm signing up for the Selection.