Sending day is the most dreaded day in the unit. We will be forced to leave those whom we love and those who love us for those we are meant to love. Tomorrow they will gather everyone together for the farewell ceremony, everyone will try to make it a joyous occasion, the beginning of our new lives. I must be the only person in unit 09-05-72 who is happy to leave this place behind, even though the unknown future scares me because nobody  I have ever met had ever been outside the compound, we have only gotten instruction from the people outside through our leaders and the books they left us to read.
I am sitting in front of the mirror to see myself, with my blonde hair cut short and disheveled hiding my face. I move my hair from in front of my eyes and sweep it left to its normal position. I don’t care about appearance like so many girls in the compound do. My face; masked by the glare on it  is exceptionally normal, my eyes a dull grey blue so different from the bright colors around me. All my features have nothing special about them from my angular nose to me freckle dusted cheeks I am average. That is how I am going to survive the pain that would sweep through my unit tomorrow when we are separated. To hide in normality.
In the unit we are all born on the same day, separated  only by the hour and minute that would become our name. For me that would be 6:59 making my full name 09-05-72-06-59, it is quite the mouthful so most acquired nicknames through their years here. Only minutes after we were born we were taken from our mothers or families-we don't really know how the pre unit works. After we were taken we were each put in our own home raised by a house program till I was six, old enough to take care of myself, get a job assignment and socialize for the first time with those who had grown up just yards away from me. I never did socialize, I kept to myself out of fear I would lose everything I gained at the age of 16 when we move to our new unit. After today, at last I would leave the compound and all these people who were hardly more than strangers to me.
I take a deep breath ready to take on whatever my final day brought, I put on my dark jeans and grey shirt marked on the left shoulder with a thick black stripe marking me as a female and on the right shoulder my full name, which I can’t wait to get rid of. When we are moved to a new unit we choose our own name, most based on what I read choose a nickname they were given in their time here.
I finish getting dressed putting on my work boots and my sweater marked with the same markings as my t-shirt and look around my home that I would leave tomorrow. It was simple, one large room a studio, windows lined the east side making up most of the wall just like every other house in the compound so we could not see in on any of the other houses. Against the windows was a simple love seat couch pointed to a small Tv that I never watched because in between the couch and the Tv was a small table covered with drawings and sketches overflowing the edge of the table like a waterfall onto the floor where they were scattered randomly.
I draw nothing in particular, from couples walking to landscapes, trees and weapons, guns mostly. Guns are concept that has always fascinated me since my job assignment into military leadership and training, the power and stability I received every time I pick up a gun and held it in my hand it was not the power that I had over others when I held a weapon but the power over myself that this small thing in my hand could not only change or eliminate the life of another while in my hand, but my own as well.
Next to my living room or my art studio as I called it was the bedroom, or bed if I am being honest. It was made sort of, the blankets strewn across the bed so randomly it looked organized. Next to the bed separated by a half wall was the kitchen, a fridge, oven, sink and counter with a small table and one chair beside it to serve as my dining table. The only room separate from the rest of the house was the bathroom tucked behind the kitchen closed of from everything else by a door.
I grab my black backpack with my stuff for the day and throw in a few drawings and a granola bar glancing in the mirror one last time, I take a deep breath. This was the start of my last day. Soon I would no longer have to sit at home drawing watching the others in my unit with their significant others and their friends, soon I would allow myself to have those. I take a step outside with a deep breath and everything goes black with the sound of a loud crack and a sharp agonizing pain in my head.
I wake up to the strange and unfamiliar sight of my compound standing around me, that is when I realize I am laying on the ground and I have a strange pounding in the back of my head, anxious to prove myself strong and independent to my peers I sat up quickly with a jolt of motion. I had sat up too quick my vision immediately going black again. Great. A deep voice echoes,
“6-59 are you okay? Did you see who hit you?”
the voice was familiar it was 12-01 or 01 as his friends called him always the most social of the compound, my mind began to wander as it usually did about 12 how he had always been happy and content with his life here, girlfiend, great friends a leadership position. I then realize he had asked me a question based on not only his, but the questioning stare of everyone around me. Someone had hit me? I hadn’t even realized I was hit, and apparently hard to knock me to the ground and out and why did they leave after hitting me? These are all questions I could answer later when my mind had free time to wander because they were all still waiting for an answer to 12-01’s question. In a hurry to get my words out to please their waiting ears I mumbled,
“I’m fine. Didn’t see anyone, how long was I out?”
12-01 quickly replied with a hint of anger in his voice that I don't understand,
“Not long maybe a minute, 7-14 claims it was a boy no number identification, out of uniform came around the corner and he seemed like he was searching for something or someone running like a maniac when he ran into you.”
A girl shouts from the back of the circle that had formed around me most likely 7-14 “he fell on top of you and freaked out yelling something about coming back for you and bolted running the other direction”
I know I should be scared maybe even terrified that this random boy who nobody recognized was coming back, for all I know to kill me. I was just shocked based on what 7-14 said he had recognized me, nobody ever recognized me. I was always just that girl in the back, nobody had ever been affected positively or negatively by seeing me!
I guess the surprise was showing on my face because 12-01 asked ,
“Is everything okay? you look like you are going to pass out again!”
quickly to relieve suspicion I replied
“No just a little surprised I guess.”
Which was true except I am very surprised. I then began to think logically, not only about this mystery boy and his influence on my lonely mind, what if he did come back? I began to breathe faster and deeper thinking of all the possibilities for him returning could be. I then try to calm myself down, tomorrow I leave the compound forever to a place I have no idea the location of and I doubted this mystery boy would. I relaxed and did what I always had in a social situation, apologize and leave.
“I’m sorry”
and as I said it I looked around to direct it to everyone that had come to my aid. 12-01 offered his hand to me making no comment on my apology and as I grabbed his hand and began to pull myself he smiled a smile that made me regret not getting to know him.
“thanks” I say with a sigh, upset at my need of help
“My pleasure 59” he says with a smirk
I nod and we all disburse going to do our jobs that had been decided the day we turned 6 which sent me to military leadership and weaponry, the one place I feel comfortable. With a gun in my hand something I had never told anyone because guns were “wicked” and “awesome” things I didn’t want to be, that would have created relationships with these people or at least starts to them which would only make our impending separation tomorrow harder.
As I reached the Military section of the compound a smile filled my face despite this morning strange events. I longed for that power I felt when my finger touched the trigger of one of the guns now just a few yards away from me.
I walk through the entrance and turned right towards the locker room. I went straight to my locker, locker 22 and opened the door with a squeak. I grab my jacket,  leather and black and simple just like everything else I owned. I also grab my tracker, a piece of eye wear similar to glasses without any frames made to display and record anything I do today in training.
I walk into the training room entry hall where I will  wait for the rest of the military trainees to arrive before todays activity  which as I walked down the hall was written on the board in bolded letters , three words that put a smirk on my face and a feeling in my heart that I know as confidence the words read,
CAPTURE THE FLAG
As people began walking into the training hall I moved my hood to cover my face and grab a gun from the shelf, a basic assault rifle heavy to some but just right to me. It is my weapon of choice. As people finished filing in 12-01  stepped in quickly  taking control of the room yelling,
“lets get to work everyone! Do your fighting military stuff, and make your last day count!”  It is obvious he wasn’t in military, he jokes about it himself but he is  just leadership picked to keep us organized and read the instructions given from the people outside the compound.
I smirk knowing that I will make today count. My confidence was not echoed through the room as I heard groans as a few even said
“Might as well  not even try with hood here”
Hood had become my nickname not as a friendly nickname you give to a friend maybe naming them for a stupid action or inside joke but as a nickname you gave your enemy. I had gotten my nickname because I always had my hood on to hide my face. I liked the thought of them knowing me by a nickname that made them hate me or at least my abilities. Not for my ordinary reason of refusing to create bonds but because there hate was because of my power and superiority in battle strategy, it fueled and will continue to fuel my already pumping adrenaline.
“load up!” 12 shouted
I walk over to the gun shelf and grab a basic handgun and my vest for capture the flag. I smile as I spun the gun and placed it in my belt, then I sprint to the truck that would take me to the arena.
“leaders!”
I look up to 12 because that is what I was, a leader someone who people looked up to with confidence knowing I would lead them to victory. I am not nervous to let them down because I know we will win with extreme confidence.
“Hood take the blue team to the south, 29 take red north.”
I watch as immediately the two colors began to smack talk and throw derogatory comments at each other. I grab my blue bandana signifying me as team leader and wrapped it around my arm right as the car started with a rumble and a jerk of movement as the thirty minute drive to the arena began.
Like usual with capture the flag the back of the truck we had all piled into is split in two by an invisible line dividing the two teams as we discussed battle strategy. As the road bumps I listen as my team angrily tries to convince each other teammates of how to approach the game seemingly avoiding the fact that I amthe leader. I sat quietly trying to find a working strategy like I have so many times before. I  decide that we will end our containment with a bang.
“Blue.” I bark in a firm voice. not loud but strong, this makes their heads turn to me with a snap.
“We need a plan.” I started “And honestly I am done listening to all of you babble on and on about what will lead us to victory.” I saw a few rolled eyes as they realized I have already outruled everything they had been arguing about.
“There are twenty six of us not including me, meaning ten on defense half on the ground and the other in the trees protecting the flag. Ten on offense.” As I said this the usual offensive players shared eager glances as the remaining six usually assigned to be lookouts based on their inability to succeed in capture the flag look down in despair.
“You six.” They all looked up most likely expecting me to say they were going to be lookouts this round sitting wasting space.
“You are with me and we are moving for the flag.” It was as if a bomb had just gone of, the instant chaos, everyone arguing against the unexpected change to my strategy that I had just announced. I heard shouts of, “They are the weakest ones on the team!”,”We are doomed!”and “This idiot is not fit to lead us!” I silence them by hitting the butt of my gun against the side of the car.
“What was your first impression of these six?” I demand looking each of them in the eyes as I move my head from left to right. One of the offensive players always proud of his usual ability to retrieve the flag and obviously upset that I had ruined his final moment of glory. He shouted out glaring at my team of six as he did,
“They are useless lookouts!” He shouts looking at his usual group as they laughed in reaction to his ride comment. I looked at the hurt in the eyes of my six as he said it and replied with something they were not expecting.
“Exactly.” There eyebrows move down in confusion. “Now, would you say the other team has lookouts similar to ours?” I saw a few nodded heads and some sly smiles as they realize the direction my plan was going.
“The other team will not be focused on these six, just like we will not be focused on theirs. All of the other team's attention will be on our ten moving straight on for the flag, but they won’t think twice about our six going around the back take them out and show them once and for all who the blue team is!”
Shouts bounce through the canyon we are now driving through as we begin pumping ourselves up. We pull into the arena. Through my ten years of the capture the flag I have memorized the arena. A river separating two halfs of a forest filled with different heights of trees. The whole forest surrounded by a steep vertical cliff with a waterfall on the west side flowing into the river.
Immediately with a slight jolt of the vehicle signifying our arrival everyone jumps out of the car some doing assorted flips and tricks others bouncing lightly to the ground. I wait till everyone but myself and 29 remained. I look to him strong and tall maybe 6’2” very broad his shirt hugging tightly to his chest with the two thick stripes on his left shoulder unlike my one stripe. He had dark hair and olive skin and a smile that got every girl's attention but my own and now he is my competition. He shakes my hand as he exhales through his nose laughing.
“Good luck hood.” I nod and reply
“And to you to.” I walk off in the other direction jump off the back of the vehicle and immediately go into a run straight to the front of my team. Even as the leader of blue I won’t  have to do much, we have all been in training for  ten years and only need a leader for strategy not basic commands and instructions. We all run together in a tight formation down to the base our footsteps all in sync and as tradition went, I was running  in the front screaming the chant and clapping as our left foot hit the ground I shout on every clap.
“Left! Left! Left” pausing for three steps yelling “Two! Three! four!” I continue  that way until we reach the base our breathing hardly labored due to our years of physical training. We walk the final yards to enter the base,  it isn’t much to be proud of.
The base consists of four concrete walls accompanied by some basic medical supplies, food, water, and some reserve weapons. They were, like our own, engineered not to kill or cause fatal damage but they would cause a sharp pain that can only be compared to a knife wound imitating a real bullet wound. The guns were created not only to cause temporary pain but they looked and felt like real guns which we only had access to in shooting ranges. Along with that when you are hit with a bullet of one of these guns you were injected with a serum that caused dreariness and weakness making it more difficult with each shot to push on and through the pain. Along with the basic supplies in the base there was a clock counting down to the start of the game, it now read two minutes forty three seconds.
“Prep up!” I yell alerting my team starting time was approaching.
All twenty seven of us sit outside the base in three groups, offense, defense, and my “Elite” group of six. The offensive team were all jumping around stretching and slapping each other on the back something I had never understood. I walk over to them finding a girl by the name of 11:15, the captain of the offense I nodded to her and she nodded back showing me her walkie talkie yelling something to her team I could not understand.
I move to defense finding the captain, a strong boy named 2:10 and offered him the flag that he is in charge of hiding and protecting with himself and those in his group. He is very tall and broad very fond of the weight room on training days. He looks up from the huddle defense had created smirked slightly and grabbed the flag which was all the confirmation I would need, he returned to the huddle with his team as they discussed strategy.
The defense team intrigued me. Not one dominant body type unlike offense and lookouts they were all different. Unlike offense they were all not thin fast and strong or the lookouts being lean and sly not exactly strong in the eyes of many even if they had gone through all the same training we had. Defense was a mix some strong and burly, these would be on the ground near the flag at all times then there were the slight few that would run through the trees with speed that was incomprehensible to me. For some reason it makes sense to me that everyone can be defense because everyone can protect because we need to I don’t believe anyone truly wants to but protection is essential to life.
I step up to my hero squad last, this is what members of the blue team had begun to call them. They are all whispering amongst each other and as I step into the circle they had created I say
“Ready?” I ask surveying them and looking into their eyes. One of them by the name of 3-06 answers for the rest of them saying,
“Why are you doing this?” He demands
“Doing what?” I ask confused
“Putting us in this position? Nobody needs us on this team surveillance is just for those who are not good enough for anything actually important.”  All the others nod in agreement.
“I don’t think you see your potential” I start
Their eyebrows move down in confusion
“Nobody expects you and you have done all the same training as everyone here. I believe you all can at least follow my basic orders, is that correct?” They all nodded silently.
“Great then let's go” I yelled to the entire team “Positions!” just as the clock hits ten seconds. It began to count down a loud pounding that shakes me to the core with each beat as we all prepare mentally for what was coming. I am thinking of my plan that was about to be put into action going through every step in my mind, every person, every obstacle, everything that could possibly go wrong which was limitless.
Everyone is in their starting positions, most crouched slightly with excited smirks covering their faces. Others stand straight up focused intently on the task we are about to begin.
Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One, Freedom.