Fandomacc wrote this really interesting story which will leave you wanting to know what happens next!

I inhale deeply, the thought of it alone terrifying. I attempt to calm my trembling hands, only satisfied when my Mom places her warm, comforting ones on my own.

She smiles, her eyes reflecting a different emotion to the one painted so easily on her lips. Her slender fingers swiftly push a stray strand of hair behind my ear and she hugs me close.

"Don't worry Clary, it's going to be fine."

I nod and stop my bottom lip from moving under the pressure. My hands seems to have a mind of their own as they fiddle with the side of the dark red dress.

The mechanical bird comes to a stop, a holigram appearing in front of us.

"This stop- Meeting ball."

The voice of the robotic female echoes in the small area and multiple 19 year olds stand up, confidence clear on the faces of some whilst others carry nerves.

My Mom tugs at my hand, pulling me up to join everyone else.

Guards stand either side of us, weapons silently threatening anyone willing to betray the system.

I gulp, feeling the metal object rub against my foot.

I step into the ballroom, totally in awe of the decorations delicately placed everywhere to make perfection. The clear glass ceiling seems to top it all, allowing everyone to see the stars twinkling above.

A familiar face comes before us and he pulls my Mom into a tight hug.

"Your getting more and more similar to your Mother! The same hazel eyes and black hair. A replica I tell you!"

I look down in respect and only look up into his eyes after he's finished speaking. They must not know yet. "Thank you Uncle. That's very kind of you."

His laughter booms around us, wrapping tightly around me as if it's slowly suffocating me with guilt.

"Any time Clary! And you've brought everything to meet your true one?"

I nod, no words able to escape from my tightly sealed lips. This is it.

Silence surrounds us once again as the annual host reads out the instructions. "We will call you up in alphabetical order according to your prior name."

He mentions more instructions before revealing the first couple.

"Abigail Summers."

My eyes lock with those of my childhood friend as she nervously intertwines her fingers together.

She stands, her legs shaking from fear. As she approaches the stage, she rubs her neck.

That's the signal.

I pull the heavy metal object from my shoe and stand, awaiting the leader of the resistance's orders.

It's showtime.