"Josiah, wait just one moment, please."

​

Immediately, your heart sinks. It feels as if there's a gaping hole in your chest. You believed that your dad might understand. That he might share your dream of escaping this nightmare.

​

As you hear his footsteps echo in the kitchen, you mentally ready yourself. In no more than thirty seconds, the Observers will be here. In no more than ninety seconds, you will die. As terrifying as the prospect of imminent death remains, you take an odd, misplaced sense of comfort in the fact that the end is near. At least now you won't have to listen to Observer Daniels spew more of his zeal, you chuckle to yourself.

​

At once, the Communicator begins shrieking loudly, sounding its emergency siren for all The Society to know. Exhaling a deep sigh, you follow your dad into the kitchen and take your usual place at the kitchen table. Looking up, you scan his face for any sign of regret or agony over his choice, but you find none. Of course, you say to yourself. Of course.

​

Crashing through the front door, a small platoon of six Observers storm-in, knives brandished. Your father beckons them into the kitchen, motioning quietly toward you for the sea of gray.

​

"Make it fast," you declare to no Observer in particular, rising from your seat and exposing your neck for them in a single fluid motion. The sea of gray swarms.