"Wake up" a voice says, shaking my shoulder firmly. "Wake up". It takes a moment, for it to register, then I practically leap from my skin. There are two guards, their faces unfamiliar to me, standing before me. "Get up. Time for a physical" one says as he tugs me to my feet. I am so confused, and too tired to understand. What is a physical? I do not ask, I just follow the one that leads, keeping a small distance from the other that is following me. What could they want? The guard ahead leads me to these doors that open when he slides a small, gold card into a slit next to it. They open to a small room, and the guard behind me pushes me in. I want to ask where we are going, but I know better. Nothing good ever comes out of asking anything of the guards. One of the guards presses a button with an odd symbol on it. When he presses it, there is a beep noise that I cannot trace is emitted from the walls. Then, it feels as though the room itself is moving! I begin to lose my balance and feel really sick. One of the guards smiles at me and holds me up. "Not used to elevators, eh?" says one, almost laughing. The other guard looks very agitated. "Relax cap'n, not a big deal" "I know. I am just sick of escort duty" replies the other guard firmly. I did not realize before, the angry one has a blue cloth around his shoulder, while the other guard has green. I guess the colors have something to do with rank or job or something. Then again, it could really be anything.

     The room stops almost abruptly, and I nearly fall over again. Thankfully, the friendly seeming guard with the yellow cloth catches me. "Shoulda let 'im fall" says the guard with the blue cloth under his breath as the door slides open by itself and he steps out. "Don' mind him, he is just old and tired of his job" whispers the guard with the yellow cloth. I leave the moving room and follow the guard with the blue cloth down the shiny hallway. It was like nothing I have ever seen before. The floor looked like it was composed of squares and then covered with water to make them shine. But, it was not wet. The lighting from the ceiling was bright too, far more so than the ones I live and work around. The air also lacked the smell of dirt or machinery. It smells, for lack of a better word, clean. As I walk, I pass many fancy looking doors. They seem to be made of metal. They have numbers engraved and painted onto them. 14563, 14565, 14567, and so on. The doors are almost marked as we are. I glance at my arm and look at the numbers that were burned into it. 90-567-325-07. I wonder what it means.

      I follow the guard down hallway after hallway, making so many different turns. There is no way I could ever find my way through this labyrinth on my own. The guard I am following finally stops at a doorway. 14908 is the number on this door. Under the number is a name. Dr. Avsory Almory. The guard that was I was follow knock on the door, and it opens. Standing in the door is a tall, boney man that radiates anger and bitterness. He has on a white coat that comes past his knees that has long sleeves that come just passed his wrists. White gloves cover his hands, and fancy, shiny-looking black shoes on his feet. He also wears gray-ish pants that come just to his ankles. His face is long and pale with little creases. He looks borderline evil.

      "Bring him in" he said I an unsettling voice. The meaner guard grabs me by my collar and drags me threw the doorway. "Strip him down and throw him in the wash" instructs the evil-looking doctor. The mean guard drags be down a hallway in the doctors room and to this room with even shinier tiles and metal pipe-looking things sticking threw the walls. "Take off the clothes" instructs the nicer guard as the other starts walking back down the hall. I do as instructed and take off all my dirt encrusted clothes, handing them bit by bit to the guard, and he sets them aside. "Ready?" he asks, walking towards a knob. I don't know what he is talking about, but I brace myself for the worst. There’s a small hissing sound and warm water sprinkles from the pipe. Not a solid stream like the hose we get sprayed down with outside the bunks. This was far calmer. "We need to wash ya up, boy. Doc don't inspect 'em dirty, dirt gets in the way" he says, smiling and handing me a white, oval shaped object. "Use 'is. Rub it on yoo-self" he says and gestures rubbing it all over himself. I mimic his movements, and soon I am coated in bubbles and foam. All the dirt and grime from the mines slips right off my body and down a drain that sits under me. What a strange activity this is, rubbing a small white object on yourself as warm water sprinkles down on you, the white object making bubbles and foam that smells, for lack of a better word, clean.

      I keep up the action for another minute or so, getting all over, from my face, down my neck, to my chest and arms, my stomach and back, groin, buttocks and thighs, shins, ankles, down to my feet. "Okay boy, 'ats enough" says the nicer guard. "Give me the soap, and rinse all the bubbles off, 'kay?" He says and reaches his hand out. This white object, it is called soap? What an odd word. I place the soap in his hand and stay under the water until the foam and bubbles are carried from my body. Once it is all gone, the guard turns off the water and throws a white cloth at me. "Dry up n' come on out" says the guard. I am a bit hesitant, but I use the cloth to wipe the left over water from my body. My eyes remain locked on the guard, just in case he does anything or I do something I am not supposed to. "C'mon out boy" he says, gesturing for me to come towards him. Of course I keep my eyes on him as I move towards him cautiously. He points down the hall and gestures for me to walk back there, where the Doctor stands, clearly impatient, with the other, meaner, guard. I hold the cloth in my hands and pass the nicer guard. As I pass him, he pats my shoulder, then pushes me a little so I go faster. 

      I stand before the doctor and look up at him. "Hold still". The doctor tilts my head back and forces my eyelids open wider. He looks into my eyes as if searching for something, then he reaches into his pocket and holds a light over one of my eyes, then over the other. "Keep your eyes wide and look into the light" he instructs, and I do just that. The light is very bright and burn my eyes, but I hold still and take it. I have most certainly endured worse. "Eyes are fine. You" he points to the meaner guard. "Get my note pad". The guard mumbles something angrily under his breath, but still goes over to the doctors desk, picks up one of the screens the engineers use down in the tunnels, and hands it to the doctor. Not even a thank you from the doctor, he just gives a light nod in acknowledgement.

      The doctor shines the light in various parts of my body, like my ears and mouth and hands. He then attaches the light to the side of the note pad and taps the screen a few times. He then detaches the light from the note pad and twists a ring on the bottom of it until it makes a small click noise. He then holds it near my neck, shining the light there, then sliding down to my stomach. His eyes go back and forth from my body and the note pad. "Lungs seem fine, vital organs are healthy" he says looking at the screen. "Turn around" says the doctor, and I do. He then shines the light from the back of my head, down to the base of my back. "Spine is fine, ribs are in good condition, nerves and all are connected right. Now, muscles". He moves my arms and legs in odd positions as he shines the light on them. This goes on for a little bit. 

      He attaches the light back to the screen and taps the screen a few more times. "Congratulations, you have been entered into the games" he says to me with a discomforting grin. Games? What games? Then I remember the guys down at the tunnel were talking about. The gladiatorial challenge. "Give him his clothes back and take him back to the tunnels" instructs the doctor. "Kid, 'ere" says the nicer guard as he hands me my clothes. I put them back on quickly and eagerly. Once reclothed, the meaner guard opens the door and begins walking back the way we came. I steal a glance at the doctor one last time before I follow the guard back to the tunnel. "Adia', Doc" says the other guard as he walks out the door. The doctor just grunts and closes the door. "Wha' a mean guy. Wha'is name?" "Doctor Avsory G. Almory. Professional biological examiner" replies the guard with the blue cloth on his shoulder. "Don' li' ‘im". The mean guard with the blue cloth turns around and glares at him. "Wha'?" "What section are you from?" "Section R-12. Why?" "Your accent makes my brain bleed. Speak right or shut up". With that, their conversations ends. We walk down the halls, back to the moving room in silence. So, even citizens live in different sections. Just how big is this nation? 

     The guards bring me back to where we started digging. "Go back to work" the guard with the blue cloth instructs me, then walks away. "See'a kid" says the other as he walks off in another direction. He smiles at me and waves his hand in a goodbye gesture as he leaves. I then go to the tunnel that was just recently started. It is barely big enough for everyone to fit, but I grab a pic ax and squeeze in. I immediately get back to work, doing the same thing I do daily. Swing the pic ax over my head, stab it into the dirt, pull it out, ripping dirt from the walls and repeating. I continue this until the one of the guards calls for us to go back to the bunks. We form our usual lines and rows, then march to the same bunks we are usually in for lights out. I did get a few glances. I think it is only because I am not encrusted with months of dirt and grime.

     The image of that doctor still bothers me, his words too. Eventually, I manage to slip into sleep. There is a light a bright one, and I cannot quite manage to see what it is. The light splits into several other lights and spread out, all of them shining at me. What are they? They are not like the lights in the tiled hall ways, nor are they like the lights in the tunnels. They are like orbs floating in the darkness, only      illuminating me and themselves. There are wild cheers and screams that echo out of the darkness. I wander around in the dark, the lights from above illuminating only me and nothing else. I cannot see anything in the darkness. No people, no walls, no floors. Nothing. 

     They, the balls of light, begin getting closer and brighter. What could they be? What do they want? I try to run away, but the follow me overhead, continuing to close in on me. They surround me. They are too bright for me to see, but they are about the same height as me, and that width. They are huge. I reach my hand out to touch one, but the second my hand touches it, they all disappear. They did not just fade or dim, or even disintegrate, they just disappeared. Vanished, into air. I close my eyes, then open them again to find myself lying in my bed in our bunk. What was that? Could that have possibly been a dream? What does it mean? I lie awake in bed, thinking about this dream and what it could mean. Before I know it, it is time for the day to start. The guard comes in and yells at us all to wake up, we do, we go to our usual breakfast line. Though, when I get to the larger guard that gives out the food, he looks at me curiously, as if he has known me before and is trying to think from where. "Number nine oh fifty six seven three twenty five oh seven?" He asks glancing at a smaller note pad he holds in his monstrous hand. I nod and show him the numbers on my arm. He smiles and puts on extra food, though, he takes it out of a different cart than usual, and the food looks different too. " 'ere ya' go boy" he says handing me the tray and giving even more to drink than usual, and the water is clearer too. I take the tray hesitantly. As I walk away, the man that was serving the food says "Good luck kid".

     I smile at him. Luck? What does that mean? I carry the tray to my usual spot with a few people I am close to. "Hey" one whispers softly. I smile and nod and sit across from him. Crack was his name, because he takes so many whips and that is the sound it make against his skin. I look at my food cautiously, then compare it to his. I have nearly double, and mine looks fresher. I start picking at it, then eating. It is surprisingly good! I cannot help myself, I begin scarfing it down, then washing it down with the water that tastes so clean. "So, where 'ey take you?" Crack asks, and the other two guys look at me, all of their faces reflecting their curiosity. "A doctor. He said I was going into the games" I say calmly. They all look at eachother, exchanging looks of confusion, then back at me. "The games?" they ask, and I repeat "the games". I consider sharing my food with these people, but think better of it. Sharing food is not permitted and is punishable by whipping or beating. I finish my food and water and place the tray where we usually do. The larger guard that hands out the trays of food calls over one of the other guards that watches us. " 'ey, did you get a message about that'n?" he says and gestures at me. I try not to look suspicious, staying with the tree people I am close with. "Yeah, he is the next gladiator, right?" "from 'is sector, yeah" "M' creds are on 'im" "Same. Kid looks tough as 'ell". This conversation continues a little. The large one the serves the food says how he has seen me grow over the years, the guard talks of how strong a digger I am.

     "Time to head to the hole!" calls a guard, and we all get in our line and march single filed to the shed for tools, and to the new hole. We all get back to our usual positions and begin digging again. I dig and dig, mindlessly doing the same action I have done day after day for years. I keep doing it, but I cannot get my mind off everything that is going on. What are these games? What is a gladiator? what were the lights? I am so beyond confused that I do not even realize that I nearly take a chunk out of the person next to me until he jumps aside, knocking the person shoveling next to him down. Two of the guards laugh, the other three seem not to have noticed. I do not try to help either of them up, even though I feel I should. The beatings are not worth it.

     We all keep digging. Once things get back to normal, I whisper to the guy I almost hit "Sorry for 'at". He responds with a nod, barely even glancing my way. I cannot tell if he is avoiding trouble with the guards, or if he is simply mad at me. We all go right back to digging as if it did not even happen. " 'ey, what was wi' your food today? Why was it differ'nt?" Says Crack. I did not even notice he moved up. I glance at him for merely a moment, then whisper to him "I do not know, but the food giver said 'good luck' to me. What is 'at mean?" "I 'eard 'at before. Luck is the spirits on your side or against you. Good luck is a wish for the spirits to be on your side. Is a good thing" "Spirits?" "Ye'. I believe 'at evey'ing is controlled by, no' 'a guards or whatever, but spirits. Souls 'at have been around even before this city, even older 'an anything. 'ey control every'ing." "So 'ey made us ants?" "No, 'ey are givin' us a chance to live. 'ey make us 'ave to stand on our own, 'ey don' jus' give every'ing to you 'e second you' born". I do not believe the same as he, but it certainly is an interesting. There are invisible spirits that control everything in secret. They do not hand everything to you and make everything perfect, they want you to earn the right. "So, 'e guard wished for 'e spirits to help me?" I ask, and he responds with an emphatic nod. "What for, do y'think?" "Well, where did 'e guards take you yes'rday?" "A doc'er looked at me" "Wha'?" "Yea', he shined a light at me, lookin' at m'body" "Like one of 'ose physicals?" "I 'ink so" I say, glancing at the guards. The guards are not looking at me, so, I take the chance. "Remember, 'e 'ird classers 'at came in to finish out 'e tunnel?" I ask, and he nods. I continue "Well, I heard some of 'em talkin' 'bout 'e games" "Games?" "Yea'. Apparently, 'eres some'ing called 'e games, and I am now in 'em" "Wha'sat mean?" "I don't really know". We go silent as the sound of a guard yelling at an ant not too far from us reaches our ears. As usual, it ends with two guards dragging the and out of the tunnel, which in this case is not too far, and beating them. It has become simple routine at this point. If an ant steps out of line in any way, they are beaten. Though, sometimes an aunt is killed for their mistakes. This one seems to be getting a severe beating by a handful of guards. Most of us look around to see if anyone seems to know what they did. A whisper is passed down the line and it finally reaches me. The ant next to me whispers "He nearly hit a guard with an ax". I nod and pass the info down the line. Striking a guard in any way is absolutely unacceptable, and we are all severely punished for it. Getting a guard killed is even worse. That can get you beaten until the life slips from your body, which is anything but a pretty sight.

     The guards take his beaten and bloody body away. He still moves, so he is not dead, but soon he will wish he would be. Whenever someone gets carried away, they are never seen again. None of us really know what happens to them, but whatever it is, it cannot be good. We all get right back to work like it never happened, so we do not get punishments as well. Maybe he had bad luck and Crack's spirits did not favor him. The day still carries on like normal, we all still dig as much as we can as fast as we can. Once we start getting deeper, the guards call an aunt over to set tracks for the carts. It takes a few aunts to carry them, line them up, then fasten them to the ground. Once the tracks are secured, the cart is pulled over and set on them. One of the guards pushes and pulls on the cart to check its ability to roll, and it seems to pass. He then orders the ants back to their places. More and more of this dirt is ripped from the wall, a few stones of varying sizes as well. The cold dirt builds up at my feet, then an ant comes by with a shovel to clear it. 

     This same process continues until we are again called back to the bunks. We get in our groups and then march to bunks, get in bed, and go to sleep. I have another dreamless night, then we are waken up by guards again, as usual, and we all go in single file to the place where we get our food and eat. Once more, I get a larger and better looking portion of food and clean water. I sit with the usual group. "Crack, tell me more about your spirits" I say as I sit down. He looks at me, somewhat surprised looking. "Wha' y'mean?" he replies. "Like, how do 'ey do every'ing?" "Well, 'ey jus' kinda do.’ey can't be seen by people, an' 'ey move stuff an' mess with people’s heads "How?" "I dunno. Just how it is" he says with a shrug. "What makes you believe in 'em 'en?" "I jus' do. You never picture a place outside 'is?" "I do" "Well, have you ever seen any'ing outside 'is place?" "When I went for a physical, I saw more" "No, not 'e mines 'n' tunnels, outside 'is whole place". I have dreamed about places outside this one. Civilizations that are ruled by kinder people, or eviler people. Other places. I have tried to imagine, but sometimes it is hard to believe. It is hard to believe there is more out there than this civilization. This is all I have ever seen and known. At the same time, it is hard to believe there is nothing more than this place. As hugs as this place seems, there has to be something bigger. "You never seen any'ing out 'ere, have you? But, 'ere has t'be some'ing out 'ere, right?" he says, smiling at me. At this point, I cannot argue. I have dreamed of bigger places, I know there has to be a place out there. I do not know why, and I am not the only one that knows it. I want to ask Crack more, but he is currently busy explaining his belief to the others of the circle. I still do not know what I believe. A lot of people seem to believe in some sort of super natural force that has a hand in things, but few of us believe the same. This is not the first conversation about beliefs I have had, but I never pictured Crack being someone to believe in these kinds of things. His view is surprisingly optimistic at that.

     Meal time ends, we get back in line and to the mine as usual. I cannot get the idea out of my head of some super natural force that controls everything, and that there is a place bigger than this. I fear, however, I will never get the chance to see it. I dig and dig mindlessly, and in nearly no time the day is over. We are all called back to the bunks, we march back single file, find our beds, and lights out. I do not fall asleep that easily still. Eventually, after some time passes, the darkness and tiredness takes me.