I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many naked people in my life. There we were, young girls between the ages of 18 and 25, forming a line in the snow on the boarder of Lavilia and the Mor Republic. We were swapping certain death with certain torture. Not much choice there. If there was any other alternative, you know that we wouldn’t be here. Our families depended on us. Facing selection was probably the stupidest thing that any of us have ever done. We knew what we were getting ourselves into though. We’d seen it on TV. Once you chosen to come forward from the crowd, you had to face, not only the glaring media who always reported on the selections live, but also the soldier – the men who would be humiliating us in front of the entire country, and, more importantly, they would be choosing whether our families lived.

       It was always conducted after sundown so that there was no escape from the cold that came with the snow and ice. They would call us out by number, as though we were rehearsing for some twisted reality show. Then, with their counterparts across the boarder watching, they would beat us severely, and make us perform sex acts so that the soldiers from the republic could judge if we were worthy of becoming sex slaves for them. The alternative to this kind of life was an absence of life. There was no way for us not to be hated. In Lavilia, they hated us because we were Nax. It didn’t really bother them until General Covar came into power. Now the word Nax was pretty much synonymous with walking corpse. In the Mor Republic, where we were headed to if we got selected, they will hate us for being members of the despicable gender: female. The Mors did not treat any females with respect at all. Their own women were like semi-slaves anyway but they were willing to let us Nax settle, if each family who had an eligible daughter could provide her for the service of the state.

It has to be said, though, that most girls did not pass the selection. With guns trained on us, we could be shot at any moment. Some girls were shot in the line, before their number was even called because the soldier who shot her got bored. We expected that, and we waited. We would have been shot anyway, if they had found us at home, or on the run. Instead, we came to the boarder, exposed as we were, voluntarily for the slim chance that we might be the passage across the boarder that our families had been waiting for. Not all families were willing to let their daughters take such a stupid risk and those daughters who came to the boarder were truly brave. Others were people who did not have such eligible girls to spare and had conned the daughters of other families to sacrifice themselves for them. These girls were always petrified when their number was called out. As for myself, I don’t belong to either of the groups for I had no family to start with. I was adopted by Lavilian parents who were forced to either give me up for slaughter, or else, give me up for the selection process. I did not have to fear for my family’s safety as the other girls did for theirs. I knew that the state would leave my family alone, after they’d gotten rid of me.

“You have to try to stay alive.” My mother had told me as I departed the village for the boarder.

“We can’t come with you.” My father said regretfully. “But we will be with you, in here.” He pointed to his chest.

“Be strong.” My mother said as she gave me a backpack that she had packed for the journey.

“I will.” I told them.

At this point, from where I’m standing in the line for selection, I didn’t give a damn if I passed the selection at all. I would have preferred a quick death from the end of a gun barrel to the living nightmare that I would have to endure across the boarder. However, I had promised my parents that I would at least try to make the best of my situation. So I tried to treat the selection seriously and would do what the soldiers told me to do.

“Oh my God.” The girl standing next to me covered her mouth, tears spilling out of her eyes.

I didn’t bother to look. I knew what she had seen; what we had all seen on TV. A girl, who had failed to be selected, was now on the ground; her body in flames. You see the bullets they used to kill us were not ordinary bullets. These shots would cause the body to combust so that all that would be left after the incident was a mangled charred body. The soldiers relished it. They usually made up their minds before they started giving out instructions to the girls. It was about whether we looked right for the part, more than our performance in the acts. The Morans had told them that they wanted “exotic” girls. The girls who were selected were not usually degraded to a level that was as severe as those who were already marked for death. By the time they finally shot those girls, it was an act of mercy. You only wish they had pressed the trigger sooner rather than later.

“Three Six Six Seven.” The commander read out.

I was surprised at being chosen already. The numbers were read out in non-sequential order, almost random, so that you had a chance to prepare yourself when they actually did read them. Three hours later, the girls who had not yet had their numbers read out were executed en mass, along with their families, who were waiting in a cordoned off area.

I stepped forward into the snow. I knew that my parents would be watching, just to see if I survived. I knew that my mother would be crying and my father would be comforting her. However, I also knew that I would never see them again. They were banned from having contact with any Nax that they once knew.

The commander came around to me and began his inspection. He lifted my chin so that he could see my face. He looked into my eyes and I looked right back at him. I wasn’t scared at all because it was stupid to fear someone who had no real feelings toward you. Hatred and intense loathing was something to be feared. Apathy was not. You can only meet indifference with the same: more indifference. He spat in my face just to see my reaction. I let the spit trickle down my face and refused to close my eyes.

Next, he went on to examine my body with a full workout over my breasts. He rubbed them. He twisted them. He put his mouth over my chest and sucked on them as a baby would. Then he got out his gun and shoved it squarely in my abdomen. I was ready for the humiliation but not the pain. My eyes started to water and I clutched at my belly with my hands. More soldiers came over to beat me. They hit me over the back with their guns and then kicked me onto the ground. The commander came over and pressed his boot into my face.

“You will learn to be afraid.” He was furious at my lack of reaction to what he was doing to me.

At this point in their selection process, a lot of girls were already begging for it to stop. But I did not beg. More than pride, I just didn’t see the point in begging when it would make absolutely no difference to the way that the selection progressed. They were putting us through torture and humiliation live, in front of millions and no one was going to stop them. I certainly wasn’t going to try.

I met his eyes again but didn’t say anything in reply.

“Get back up!” He shouted.

I waited for him to lift his boot, then I tried to push myself up off the ground. But before I was upright again, something was jabbed into the small of my back and I could feel myself getting electrocuted. With the electric pulse, I lost all control over what I was doing and fell back onto the ground.

“You seem to like it down there.” He remarked and the other soldiers laughed.

I knew what he was doing. He was going to repeat this process until I begged him to stop. He wanted to hear me plead. I stayed silent.

“You got something wrong with your hearing?” He asked loudly again. “I said get up!” He kicked his boot again, this time into my back.

I tried to get up again. This time I didn’t bother to wait for him to take his boot off me.

This time, I made it upright and the soldier immediately kicked into my calves. My legs were then forced into a kneeling position.

Abandoning all pretence, the commander took his gun and shoved it against my temple. I closed my eyes and waited.

“You think this is a game?” He was shouting again.

Threatening someone who had already seen the shooting of countless others before her with a gun was not the smartest thing to do. Eventually it loses its effect.

He dropped the gun, then he grabbed onto my neck with one hand and squeezed.

“Stop it!” Someone in the crowd shouted. Stupid girl. She was going to be...

I was right. One of the soldiers shot her and the girls standing beside her had to move out of the way in order to not get burnt. I dared him with my eyes. I dared the commander to kill me. At least this way, I would have a recognisable corpse that wasn’t burnt beyond recognition.

“Patience, commander.” Another man came over and put his hand over the commander’s shoulder. The commander released me and I coughed at the sudden rush of blood back into my arteries. This man was also a soldier but he was wearing a different uniform. His was blue while the Lavilian uniform was red. The soldier was a Moran.

“Put your hands behind your head.” He instructed.

I did as he said.

Then he pulled down his pants, revealing his very erect penis.

“Suck on it.” He said.

I put my head forward and opened my mouth.

“Act like you’re enjoying it.” He said softly.

I looked at him sharply. I didn’t know what he was trying to do but I had no choice but to obey. Why was he whispering? I licked and sucked like it was candy, instead of the most revolting thing I had ever tasted in my life.

“You’ll do.” He said.

“What?” The Lavilian commander said with disbelief.

“She is what the president has been looking for.” The man smiled. “His current slaves have lost the fire in their eyes and he is getting bored with them.”

The Lavilian commander smiled as well. This could only mean one thing. The Moran president was going to be ten times worse to live with than the commander.

“Where is your family?” Asked the commander.

I pointed to a random group with a mother, a father and three young children that I’d never met before in my entire life.

“Very well.” He pointed toward the gated crossing. “You may leave Lavilia.”

The mother of the family bowed her head thankfully as they passed me.