Welcoming the darkness as an old friend, I am hypnotized by his tranquility. The silence is music to my ears that I could stay adrift to for eternity. Unfortunately eternity is cut short by a bucket of sub-temperature water that woke up every ounce of pain in my body. Reflexively, I fling my eyes open, gasp for air, and let out a yelp of pain. A million pounds of pressure are pressing my right lung and I can’t feel or see from the left side of my face. Turning my head slightly to get a better angle with my right eye I see two men standing in front of me. The two men couldn’t have looked any more different. The one on the left is taller and heavy. He has dark brown hair with a perfectly trimmed beard. His dark brown eyes are cold and expressionless. The shorter one is thin with chubby red cheeks. The lack of facial hair reminds me of a baby’s face. Contrary to the previous, his eyes are tired but filled with passion. The only thing that unites them are their grey and red uniforms.

Seeing the odd set makes me really feel like I know them, but from where? Before I have time to think about it, the taller of the two yanks me to my feet. Even though I didn’t think it was possible my body hits me with a new wave of pain. I double over and throw up. “Stand up straight you filthy Horace!” The taller one yells as he pushes me. Not caring that I threw up, he turns me around and ties my wrists behind my back, pulling my right shoulder out of my socket in the process. I scream in agony. “SHUT UP!” He roars. As if I was going to escape, the short one double checks to make sure the knot is tied tight. After reassuring that it is, he grabs my arm. In too much pain to fight with men who have the upper hand, I don’t question why and where they are taking me. I silently follow.

On the other side of the doors lay a corridor lit by blue fire. After walking fifty paces we stop outside a set of cement doors. On the right door there is a code pad. “Punch your number in Dreev.” The taller one says.
“Don’t be stupid, I lost that privilege Ret.”
Ret chuckles, “I know. I just like hearing your failures.”
“Probation is almost up. In one week I’ll be able to fulfill my destiny.”
“Destiny? What in the New World are you talking about?”
“Never you mind!” Dreev snaps, “They are waiting.”
Ret watched as my eyes become wide. “Scared you little horace?”
“No.” I say plainly because I’m truly not –yet

Chuckling again to himself, he looks at the code pad then to me. Moving his body to block my view, he puts in the code, steps back, and waits. After five seconds the doors gracefully swing open into a great room. I know whatever I am being brought in here for isn’t good but I still can’t help the astonishment I feel by the beauty of the room itself. The floor and ceiling alike are white marble with specs of gold. On the walls hang pictures of men, women, and buildings, each incased with a gold frame. Statues, standing nine feet tall, made of a darker marble fill each corner of the room. In the center of the room is velvet carpet that sits underneath of a mahogany table. The table seats seven people. Of the seven, there are four men and three women, all of which who are wearing red robes, the shade of blood. Behind them sits four rows of empty benches.
Ret and Dreev walk me to the middle of the room, pick me up, and place my feet into restraints.

Immediately my feet are encased, making it impossible to leave. The man seated in the middle, certainly the biggest of the group, stands up and cracks a crooked smile, “Welcome Emlyn Pruett. Let your trial begin. You are here, charged with breaking laws; One, Two, Eight, and Eleven. Do you deny breaking these laws?”

Standing there frozen in disbelief, I shake my head. It hadn’t occurred to me until now. Maybe because I was too distracted by Abbot and Castello over here, or maybe it is the immense pain I am in, but I can’t remember anything. Not until they mentioned it, did I think of my name. If I didn’t even remember that, how am I supposed to remember what laws one, two, eight, and eleven are? Racking my brain, I try to remember anything from before the room, but I can’t. There is nothing; absolutely nothing. “I, I don’t. I don’t remember.”

Satisfied at my lack of knowledge he continues, “I will ask again. Do you deny breaking these laws?”
For the first time today I don’t feel pain. I feel something much worse; fear. “What’s going on? Where am I? Who are you?!”
The woman at the very end of the table lets out a high pitch laugh. I jerk my head towards her. She has dark brown eyes that match her dark brown hair and she is wearing blood red lipstick that makes her look paler then she already is. I have seen her before. I know of it. But I just can’t place where.

She opens her mouth to speak but before she could I find myself sitting on a green couch. I grab the remote set beside me and turn on the television to channel seven. A woman in a blue dress is sitting behind a desk. Looking down at her papers she reads, “Our next guest is Liz Matrelli.” When she looks up, it seems as if she is looking straight at me. In a much deeper voice she continues, “After two times of asking and no response, we take that as not denying what you have done.”

I snap out of it. I run my eyes back and forth across the table. “Why, why am I here? I just don’t…”
“You don’t what? Remember?” She continues mockingly. “Do I need to spell it out. Y-O-U B-R-O-K-E L-A-W-S –“
“Yes, One, Two, Eight, and Eleven, I understand.”
“AH! You admit it!” She screams with excitement. “I told you I would get it out of her first.”
“No, No, I admit nothing! I was just.”

A small women next to the man in the middle says in a quiet but effective voice, “It is people like you that bring the problem. And it is people like us that bring the solution.”
Now I’m pissed, “PEOPLE LIKE ME? WHO AM I LIKE? YOU AREN”T EVEN BEING FAIR! I DESERVE TO KNOW WHY IM HERE!”
“We have told you everything you need to know.” She says in the same simple voice.
“I don’t know anything. You clearly know I don’t remember.”

A different man speaks, but only to the others, as if I was not present… or human. “This horace! If she is true remembering should not be an issue. I don’t see why we are even giving her a chance! Proceed with 8158135! I am hungry and ready for dinner!” Cheers erupt from the other members.

The familiar lady on the end has a grin from ear to ear, “Finally my prized possession will be put to use. Let us Vote!”
Prized possession? Proceed with 8158135? 8158135? 815- IT CLICKED! The woman in the blue dress, the number, Liz Matrelli. Liz Matrelli, the woman at the end of the table, was being interviewed, by the women in the blue dress, for being brought aboard the Septum Schola because of her solutions on dealing with the “horace”. My mind is racing. I look up from staring at the ground during my moment of enlightenment. My eyes lock with the man in the middle. I watch as that crooked smile he wears easily creeps across his face. He knows I put the pieces together. My heart sinks. Even though I don’t remember anything else, three things are for certain; You only went on trial in front of the Septum Schola if you were a horace, I was standing in front of the Septum Schola, and anyone who went on trial in front of them were never seen again.

Judging by the replicated satisfactory facial expression on each of the members faces and seven out of seven hands raised high in the air; 8158135 is about to go into effect. You would think one would be scared to face their fate, but right now I’m not. I suspect the fact that I can’t remember anything before the past hour has a big role in the matter. I am not filled with doubt that I have loved ones back home. I am sure of it, everybody has friends and family. The fact that I can’t remember who my people are just makes it easier to let everything go and accept whatever is to come next.

“Emlyn Pruett, you came in here today given an equal chance to deny all charges and defend yourself. In refusing to communicate an answer under the given time allowed, the court automatically agrees with the charges placed against you. As of 19 January a new law came into effect, concerning the matter of what charges one in your position should receive. In decree 8 section 14 of the Urbem York Manuscript it states that any one person who commits more than three crimes will no longer be held in the jurisdiction of the Urbem but will now be held in the jurisdiction of the Septum Schola. Seeing as you have committed four crimes all sentencing is in our jurisdiction.” The man in the middle paused generously allowing me time to process everything he had just said. I summed it up to the fact I’m s*** out of luck and essentially on my death bed. “Any final words before you receive your punishment?”

Why am I here? Why can’t I remember? The list goes on, but I’m not about to waste what is most likely my last minutes of life on questions I will never receive answers too. “I stand here, a (Pausing I try to remember how old I am but I simply can’t) young girl who you all seem to be threatened by. I know this, because if you weren’t, plan 8158135 would not be going into affect. It is an absolute shame that the last thing my nieve eyes will ever get to see is the faces of four old men and three old women who believe they are above the greater of society. And I am terribly sorry that whatever you have planned for me will not bring me sorrow for as you know I have no recollection of life before this trial.” Now it was my turn to wear the crook smile and stare at the man in the middle.
Flustered, but not the awful affect I tried to bestow on them, a man cleared his throat and spoke,

“Emlyn Pruett we, the Septum Schola, have reviewed the four acts of crime you have committed and are punishing you by plan 81581-“
Before the man has time to finish all hell breaks loose due to the explosion twenty feet behind me –at the cement doors. Being completely in the open I crouch down. Seeing as all the members ducked underneath the table I take this as the perfect opportunity to try and get my feet out of the restraints. The more I struggle the more the restraints seem to-

“Don’t struggle, stand still. I’ll get you out.” My heart skips a beat and leaps outside of my rib cage.
“Who?” I stammer.
The same deep but oddly soothing voice answers, “I’m here to save you. Don’t ask questions. Stay here while I take care of the members.”
I nod in agreement, since I’m not in any position to move anyways. I watch as the man, all dressed in black, goes over and joins three other people dressed the exact same way. The smoke in the room is getting thicker. My eyes are getting puffy and watery, making it hard to see what “My saviors” are doing to, well save me. I bring my hand over my mouth to stop the smoke from filling in my lungs.

A different person in black, who has the sellout of a woman with great strength begins walking towards me.
“I’m so sorry but I have too.” Her voice sounded the least bit apologetic
“Have to wh-“ before I could finish she stabs me in the neck with a needle.