I hurried past the crowds of crying shuddering Reds, Oranges and Yellows, ignoring the looks that they all threw my way, pleading for a way out, my eyes only scanning for two particular figures. 

My eyes set on the two beautiful dark-skinned sea-blue eyed twins. Not at first sight, they did their best to conceal it, Astoria's black falls were always died a beautiful blonde shade and cosmetics were dabbed around her eyes so they looked as if they were dabbed with a hint of purple. They both waved their rings, Darian's burning with stone yellow and Astoria's was flicking with orange flames.

Twins separated at birth because of this stupid place. One of them would be killed the moment they were born and their parents couldn't take it, and when they first heard about the twins they divorced. They were still in love, but they would do anything for their unborn children and when the twins were born they paid the doctor to keep quiet with everything they owned. Then they parted as a divorced couple, never talking about their partner. The family used to all be Greens until the twins had taken the Test and were sent in 'shame' to their new Colour. But their parents were too happy to let them change Colour, because it was so much easier to not notice the twins.

They stood in the middle of the rabble, hands on shoulders attempting to calm them, speaking quietly but clearing sharing the plan. When the news reached each of the specks of dark ragged people they seemed to sit up straighter, relax their posture and look both neutral but if you looked behind the masks they were worried, and so scared.

I slid through the narrow, unlit door, the stench of death and disuse hitting me, dust falling on my face. I scrawled down the dark tunnelling path, jerking my head at the stone that jutted downwards inches away from me.

I paused as light began to flood the tunnel and listen to the shriek of a young girl- I knew that voice. I'd seen it on the TV screen. It was the girl from Evergreen who had given a speech on the 'unfairness of the entire darn America.' Kaspa Fields.

No that girl couldn't die.

I shifted my body and reached for the broken ladder that Darian had tried to fix, but he had twisted the ladder the wrong way and wooden sticks entangled with hard rope curled the wrong way, jutting from cold stone.

I grabbed the rope, hard and cold against my warm hands, and hoisted myself upwards. The rope trembled against my weight so I sneaked a half-foot on a nearby stick hanging from a lower part of the cave wall.

I heard its straining and continued quickly, the girl's life was on my hands. I had to hurry. Kaspa Fields.

The Cleansing had been raging in my mind for hours but now it was clawing into my brain trying to persuade me to stop.

I dragged a hand through my limp hair, greasy and thin then I stopped my climbing.

There was the way out. Away from the suffocating empty air, almost as bad as the stench from above me.

I grabbed the dark-skinned hand, second finger fitted with a black coal ring, a dying yellow flame sighing in protest, that hovered just above me and helped push myself up, making a stick crack loudly. His ring seemed to tighten, and the hand shook slightly , a searing pain bursting through my own skull. The Cleansing was getting worse.

Darian's gentle voice whispered," Kaspa Fields from Evergreen America has about five minutes left to live- No forget it, make it one. "

And I was out. I stood up and looked around. Blinding light seared from above me where the higher platformed colours sat watching the lowers die.

Darian nudged my elbow and tilted his head slightly as if trying to send me a message. His deep blue eyes darted to where Astoria stood in the centre of them all, glimmering blonde hair shimmering behind her, her sea eyes meeting Darian's for a moment. Keep it together, she seemed to say.

The ground as I touched it was caked, dead and lifeless from all the corruption that took place here. I was about three steps away from the gaggle of calm-seeming people in rags, hiding their tension, standing fearless together.

And that was what kept this crazy plan together.

Hope.

Strings of desperate, relentless Hope.

A chesnut-haired fierce young woman stood at the front of the people, her butterfly yellow eyes glimmering like sunshine, staring at the six men of the Guard, all Silvers, the highest category, above us all, the only people fit for that were the ones who lived in the C shaped building of ash. These six Guards were the President's Force, carrying out each Daily Entertainment and guarding the President and his family for anything important.

They were all tall men with blackness surrounding them, a wicked blanket of hate. Each held a knife, to carve and kill in the most disgusting way possible, to torture then end the life.

" You are going to murder him? A tiny defenceless little boy with brains a thousand times better than yours and a heart that would never stop loving? That boy is so much better in ways you won't ever understand. "

I noticed a smaller child with hazel eyes and scraggly brown hair, labelled a Red, shivering behind a mass of people, shoved into the middle of the group, guarded by the others.

A man clenched his knife excitedly and growled, his pale features broken even more by the hunger and hate of the wicked smile that spread on his face.

" I would enjoy that," He spat," But it seems we have company. "

He whisked around to meet us, the other five prowling around us.

I gave the signal, a step back and a tilt of my head.

Darian's eyes met Astoria's, blue sprinkled with fake purple, and let his eyes speak for him.

" Guess what," I said as rusted bloodied chains dug into my ripped palms and tightened around my wrists," I don't care, you can hit me and murder me and do whatever you want but there is freedom. There is a future. There is a way out. All you have to do is fight for it. "

I stared directly at the little boy as I said my words and I nodded despite the cold metal of a knife against my neck. He nodded back, brown eyes bright with enthusiasm. Ignoring the knife as I did.

And then Darian screamed, twisting under the Guard by his side and grasping the hand of Kaspa, pure red blood dripping down her eyebrow and over her eyelid.

Stunned, she gripped it back. Then before the guards had chance to react he ran, in an orderly fashion, Astoria behind her clutching the little boy in her hand. A straggly man jogged behind them, his breath uneven and tired but he didn't give up. Neither did the crowd behind him, pushing him forwards, running together.

Together.

Towards the Gate out, away from this place, to the Hell Holes of their homes to gather family and leave. Find a way out of this Hell they called America. To find the real Gates out of this 'America.'

" They'll be caught," Grunted the man who pressed the knife against my neck.

The ringleader of the group raised an eyebrow," You, go after them. I'll deal with-" He pointed at me." That. "

I placed a hand on my hip, seemingly oblivious of the twin daggers placed against my neck.

The Purples, Blues and Greens sure were getting a good show. I could hear the bated breath even from down here.

" With all your freedom lark," He spat in my ear," You'll be getting them all killed. "

I raised my voice," Better killed for trying, for doing something for the damn future that we will never get unless we fight. Better we fight than die a coward. "

My voice rang around the Entertainment Hole. A heavy silence hung as people contemplated it. Just for a moment, then it was over.

The blade tightened against my neck.

He seemed to scream, Would you like to know what happens to those who don't obey?

" Go on coward, obeying a President- a King as you say, who never cares. Who never gives a damn about the giant C of his house. Standing for Care he says? More like Control, Coward, Crazy- "

My blood was seeping down my clothes.

" I'm going to make this long, longer than you've ever known," he promised.

Time. Buy them Time. No matter what.

I kicked him on his jaw twisting my body around and the knife towards him.

The golden-hilted dagger was at his neck. And for a moment he didn't lash out, an unspoken word flashed in his black-empty eyes.

Sorry.

Sorry for being a monster, a murderer... Sorry. For everything.

And it was over, cruelty glimmering in his eyes, guards pressing at my sides. Daggers shoved against my neck as people moved to grab me.

" We will not be chained," I whispered, quietly, my voice growing louder and steadier, adrenalin bursting through my body," We will not be chained. Stop throwing our resistance back in our faces, stop forcing our pleas to be muffled. Because its been too long and it's time to let our light shine. We have a light that you can't break or pause. Do whatever you want, torture, murder but I have given the message. You-"hands threatend to strangle me but I managed to choke-" Will- Never- Put- Our light out again. "

Everything had slowed and been slurred as if I was viewing myself from third person. I couldn't feel the red blood leaking from my throat all I could do was talk and even as hand grabbed my jaw and purple bruises shone I did not stop. I couldn't, they were not, Never, going to put our light out again.

Never.

As if in response to that there was a clap, a cry from the Holes of Hell. A cry of joy, a response to all I'd said. Slow claps filled the air and there were the cries for freedom. Pleading for a future.

It didn't matter about the people so heavily influenced, so greedy and easily controlled, happy to be high and never wondering about what it would be like if it was better. They jeered of course. But did it really matter? They were forced to be monsters.

A monster thrashed inside my brain but I stared forwards, not feeling the thrashes to my body, not feeling the blood or the bruises or the way they carved me-

Until I shook off the numbness.

They had killed her.

The Queen of the Stars.

And a million unnamed stars.

A million unknown slaves.

And all I could feel was Fire.

I stared at the men shrouded in darkness, never knowing a way out, maiming and murdering because it was their job. They were never born monsters. They were made.

By the man with the frightened wife and weak child. The man who was always screaming to Care and Love and what he did was only for us, to help us. But was it really justice to kill innocent? To turn the remainder into scared obedient servants?

A throbbing pain screamed, wailed at me to listen to it's pleas but I wouldn't. Couldn't.