With that in mind . . .
Epic Reads recently posted about a fanfic contest for Kiera Cass's upcoming release of "The One," the final book in her trilogy, "The Selection." I've read the first two books in the trilogy, "The Selection" and "The Elite" and I was prepared for this contest. Of course, I'm really forgetful, and the weather patterns lately have been horrible for my migraines, and I have these rotten new downstairs neighbors who really love to listen to rap as loudly as possible at all hours, so I have NOT been writing much at all. But still, I remembered, and two nights before the deadline, I sat down, took some notes, and wrote a 500 word entry in under two hours.
I didn't win.
I did, however, rank as one of the five semi-finalists they chose out of over 300 entries (last I knew, the JLA Fanfic contest had 48 entries). So. Bam. Maybe I don't suck? (I'm the Sarah, don't mind the last name, they misspelled it.)
Here's my entry!
It was finally time. I’d gotten into the selection and through to the elite, and when I’d made a misstep, let my passion take away my focus, Maxon had stepped in and saved me. He didn’t know that in saving me, he was also saving his country, and his people. He thought that he was saving me because he loved me, could see me as his future wife and Queen, but maybe somehow he knew there was more to it than that.
I’d spent my time at the castle getting ready for my mission - integrating myself, making allies and getting the lay of the land. You can’t enter into a war without knowing whom you’re fighting and where – that’s just common sense battle strategy. While it was true that I was there to battle for Maxon’s heart, I was also there for a deeper purpose.
I was a trained assassin, and I had an assignment. Until that night, I’d thought that the reports about King Clarkson had been exaggerated, but when I saw Maxon’s bloody back, I knew the reports were true. The King was an oppressive tyrant, and he had to go. Under his rule, the castes would forever remain in place, and the rich would continue to lord their power over the poor while we suffered and starved and were treated as less than.
I hadn’t planned on revealing the caste removal plan for the broadcast, but when I saw the cue cards there, I knew that someone – a superior in hiding within the castle – must have wanted me to make that presentation for a reason, and so I did it. I knew now that it must have been to reveal the King’s true self, to spur me on my way. I don’t know how they knew I could remain at the castle afterwards to continue my mission, but we weren’t taught to doubt, we were taught to act.
I slipped out of my bed, my bare feet landing on the cool wood floor, and I reached under the bed to pull out the knife I’d placed there earlier in the selection. I was grateful to my maids and to Aspen for having shown me the hidden air ducts that led through the castle – the hallways would take me halfway to the king’s chamber, but after that, the air-ducts would lead me straight to him.
Tonight, King Clarkson would die.