Tap. Tap. Tap.

I felt my eye twitch in mild irritation at what had to be the 600th tap of a pencil to my right. I lazily glanced at the boy who continued to tap the tip of his pencil to the desk as he finished his exam. After giving an obviously annoyed huff, that was sadly unnoticed, I turned my attention to my left where I could look out the window, although there was not much more to notice that way.

The city, Anterneed, was a shell of what it had been more than 250 years ago. The tall buildings were run down but not completely eroded. Small chunks had been removed from the buildings over time and it was easy to see from across the street that there were also sizable cracks scattering across. The roads and pavement bellow were in a similar state that cried for maintenance, not that they would get any.

My eyes strayed to a figure wearing a cloak made of black material, unblemished and whole with a golden trim. I blinked languidly before hearing my name being called.

"Arthur." The teacher, Ms. Jacobson, called, seemingly like she had just noticed my absentmindedness. I turned with a polite but tired smile.

"Yes Ms. Jacobson?" I said, my voice a touch gravely but typical for me.

"Can you read this passage about Icarus for us here?" she inquired. My expression hardly changed as I reached into my bag to pull out the book the passage was in, but I was surprised by how much time passed while I was staring out the window, since we had been taking a quiz before.

I quickly flit open to the page about Icarus, feeling everybody staring at me with some mixture of relief. Of course, I knew why.

"These wings will take us away from this place and to freedom," he told his son. "However, there is one thing you must not forget. These wings are held together by wax. If it gets too hot, it will melt and the wings will fall apart. So, do not fly too close to the sun. Stay low and we will be safe."

So here they were now, gliding across the brilliant blue sky, the sun shining above them and the Aegean sea glinting beautifully far below them. Daedalus glanced back nervously over his shoulder again, to see the island of Crete getting smaller and smaller as they flew away from their prison. But Icarus could not contain his excitement a moment longer. "We're free," he yelled to the empty sky around him. "Free and we're flying, we're flying with the birds."

With a whoop of excitement, he soared up and up, gliding around the sky, zooming back down towards his father and then up again, up, up, up towards the dazzling sun.

"Icarus, not too high, not too close to the sun," his father screamed in desperation. "The wax on your wings will melt. Stay close to me and stay low."

But his words fell on deaf ears. The boy continued to soar up into the bright blue sky, edging nearer and nearer to the sun and, as Daedalus flew along below him, he saw a bright white feather flutter through the sky and, looking up, watched in horror as more and more feathers detached themselves from his son's wings.

He watched in despair as his son began to lose height and his despair turned to total anguish as he heard the terrified cry from his son, as he tumbled and spun past him towards the sea below.

It took only seconds, but it seemed like a lifetime, as Daedalus saw his son plummet through the sky with increasing speed to hit the waters below with a resounding splash.

Daedalus flew low in the hope of seeing the boy appear on the surface of the churning waters but he knew that nobody could have survived such a fall and that all hope was lost.

With a heavy heart, and almost exhausted, Daedalus regained the height he needed and, without looking back, set his course for the island of Sicily. There he hoped that he would be welcomed and be allowed to live a trouble-free life for the rest of his days.

But however long he lived, he would never be able to forget the sound of his son's final cry as he sped towards the water. It was only the briefest of sounds but he heard it clearly, even above the sound of the foaming waves and crying gulls – "Father, help me".

The room had remained silent as I read and I calmly put the book back on the desk, staring at Ms. Jacobson.

"Thank you, Arthur. Now can anybody tell me how this passage is relevant to 21st century history?" Again, the room remained silent and solemn, although this wasn't unexpected considering what today was.

I raised my hand patiently as she scanned the room before relenting and allowing me to answer. "It's a similar story, in a metaphorical sense, in regards to what happened to the scientist Peter Kirkland." I said, only continuing as she made a motion for me to elaborate further.

"In short, he created the very first human hybrid, something that should have allowed humanity to become stronger and successful due to having special safeguards against disease and injury along with freeing us from the taboo that was human experiments. This is like the wings and flying away from the island of Crete.

"However, the catch comes with Icarus wings, a tool used for freedom, is synonymous with the creation of the human experiment. He ended up being a catalyst for change that was not positive and brought humanity to its knees, in this case humanity is Icarus himself, separate from the tool. His own recklessness and hubris is what brought him into the see and humanity to the state we are now." She finally raised a hand for me to stop as a man in a raid uniform walked in.

I snapped my book close, causing a few people in the room to jump at the noise, the nervousness finally reaching a peak. "Alright class, it is time to go." Ms. Jacobson said, a sad tone in her voice. "I will see you all tomorrow." We all knew that was a lie, that some of us would be missing.

The police officer who remained silently at the door opened it, showing a few hundred other students in worn down clothes walking by, similar expressions of fear and nervousness, a few even looking detached, as they walked towards the entrance of the building.

I took my time, like many others, gathering my things, although for me it was more a leisurely task while for others it was a delay. I was ultimately the last one to leave the room, but before I exited the room a gentle but frail hand rested on my shoulder. I turned to look at Ms. Jacobson, who was a mousy old woman with brown hair that was slowly fading to grey. "Yes, Ms. J?" I inquired.

She gave me a sad smile, genuine tears in her eyes. "Oh Arthur, thank you for today. I know it's a hard day on all students, but you made it through stronger than most." I gave her a forced smile, but before I could say anything she continued. "I hope you make it through the raffle, because you are the brightest and most intuitive person I've seen in years. We need you here Arthur." She finished, wiping her eyes and standing strait. "I don't want you to get in trouble for keeping you here, so you better get going." She said, not facing me.

I smiled sadly, turning back towards the door as my heart beat started to pick up, the silence of the hallway making it thud louder in my ears. "Thank you, Ms. Jacobson. I'll see you tomorrow." A strange feeling coiled in my gut, but I payed it no attention.

I began to move through the hallway, speeding up a bit as I made my way to the main plaza.

"Arthur!" a familiar voice called from my right. I quickly turned my head, seeing my father there with my mother at his side, my little brother Liam on her hip as they rushed. I stood patiently as they caught up, receiving a stern look from my father, his brown eyes worried but fatherly. "Shouldn't you be there already?" he asked.

I smiled sheepishly, but my mother just brushed my father off playfully, her green eyes gleaming as we made our way through the slowly decaying city, finally reaching the edge of the crowd gathered at the plaza.

It wasn't terribly outstanding, a small fountain rested to the right of a large makeshift podium that had been set up for the raffle. A small, balding man took to the podium with a mic shortly after we arrived, a fake and pained smile on his lips as he spoke.

"Welcome to the yearly raffle everybody. As you know, every year we send 36 brave and heroic individuals to the nation's Vampire capitol as our treaty states, to prevent the death of every individual of our city. We honor and will always remember these brave men and women. As per usual, those eligible are only those between 16 years of age but no older than 35. Without further ado, let the raffle begin."

I held my mother's hand, knowing she was only 35 and had only one more year before she reached the age of non-eligibility. I had only just turned 16 myself, but I was more concerned for her.

35 names rolled by, each family exchanging their goodbyes, some tender and calm while others were angry, shocked, loudly and tear jerking. Finally, my mothers had relaxed, holding Liam with both hands as they pulled the last name printed on blue paper, signaling it was a boy.

"Arthur Kirkland."

My breath caught deep in my throat, heart hammering as my brain nearly short circuited. The whole plaza went silent and all eyes turned to me. I heard several outraged voices, it had been no secret that I was one of the smartest people in several decades.

I turned to my mother, who gently deposited Liam on the ground to embrace me, her own green eyes filling with tears as her grip turned to iron. "I can't let them, you're just a kid." She muttered as my father rested a heavy hand on both of our shoulders, the movement more than enough to tell me he was torn up. I stared at him, not sure what to say as he wiped one of my tears away, not noticing I had any until that moment.

I bit my lip as Liam, no older than 3, gently tugged my shirt to pull me down to his level. "Why are mommy and daddy sad Awthuw?" he asked, his baby talk understandable to me. I smiled gently, ruffling his hair and picking him up.

"Don't worry about that Li, I just have to go somewhere for a while." I said, my voice surprisingly steady considering the circumstances.

Liam gave me a pout, crossing his arms as I handed him to my mother, but not saying anything. A guard rested his hand on my free shoulder, a signal I needed to move on. I nodded and stared at my father. "Take care of them, I love you guys." I said, biting my lip and turning around to walk, ignoring the cries of my mother and father as I walked to the podium to stand with the other 'raffle winners'.

A short speech I hardly heard was uttered before we were shuffled to a large, and admittedly nice, speed bus that was stocked with food and alcohol, that the minors were allowed access too. I mean why the hell not at this point. I didn't care though; my mind was racing as the doors closed and the bus sped off.

I needed to find a way to live, I couldn't die there.

Soooo here is the first revision, I genuinely hope you guys like it better than the original.

Edit: February 27, 2017, word count increase: 1000+