It’s like a wedding. Through the door will be a carpeted aisle-way with seats on either side. Family and friends will fill the seats, but there also will be a section for the Officials to sit and watch as the ceremony commences. But, this isn’t a wedding, it’s so much more important than one. 

The music seems louder as the doors are opened. As I walk through the threshold, all eyes are on me. I take a glance here and there, but I do my best to keep my gaze straight ahead as I walk to a new future. 

The carpet below me is a dark purple which looks amazing with the dark brown wood that makes up the floor and the dark stone that makes up the walls. The only wall that isn’t made of stone is the one across from me. 

At the end of the aisle stands the head Official, the one who is in charge of all of this. He stands on a platform that is only a few inches tall. Next to him is a podium which is where I will soon stand. The further I walk, the quieter it gets, making my footsteps that much louder in my ears. 

The white string of the balloon is bright against the scenery, the neat bow contrasting my skin and dress. I keep my arm in front of me, not like a zombie’s, more like close to my torso as if it was broken. My attempts to keep the balloon still is in vain as it continues to bob with each movement I make.

Am I breathing? I can’t tell anymore with how much pressure I feel. Every important person in my life is watching me and I am trying so hard to not mess up. Please world, don’t let me faint before I make it down. 

After endless tension, I finally make it. The Head Official smiles at me as I take my place at the podium, then he turns towards the audience. “Today, November 19th 3107, is Mae’s 18th birthday. On this important day we shall conduct the much awaited ceremony of The Blue Balloon, where the magic of all of the universe shall show us Mae’s destiny.”

He motions for my wrist. Once again I run though my lines and take a few deep breaths. I’m reluctant to move, fear’s hand squeezing my soul. Finally, with my other hand squeezing the podium tight, I hold out the arm with the balloon. It shakes with my movement. 

“The blue of the balloon represents dreams and the future, her destiny if you will. Her destiny will be measured by how high the balloon flies, and where it will eventually fall.”

There are symbols all over the ground, some in between the seats, some in the corner in the room, there’s even one behind the high official and Mae. Where the balloon falls will show what my life will be like. There’s magic in the balloon that will sync with the future, and will direct it towards one of the symbols. How high the balloon flies will represent the amount of success and the length of life she will have. 

The magic of the balloon is said to come from the universe itself, which is then harnessed by the most trained of people who dedicate their lives in learning about the magic and learning how to use it. The head official or one of those Balloon Scholars commences ceremonies. It’s all a very complicated process in which I barely even understand myself.

The Head Official begins to untie the string around my wrist, anticipation fills the room as people wait for me to speak.

“I give up control of my destiny in order to see what awaits me in the future. I untie the fear of the unknown, as it shall be clear to see,” I have said those words so many times in the last few months. While it doesn’t seem like a lot, there are more to come and I had to perfect every last syllable. 

As I continue, I can feel the wait of everyone’s eyes on me. I try my best to keep my voice or hands from shaking, but I hope that it’s normal for the Head Official to see. 

“Give me success and give me love. Give me a bright future only few could dream of. Give me light and give me joy. Give me adventure and give me-”

POP!

In just a matter of a second, my words are cut off. Blue latex falls around me and the white string, which was so neatly tied into a bow, hangs sadly off my wrist. The Head Official didn’t get a chance to finish untying it, since there is a ceremonial way. 

All eyes move from me to the empty space where the balloon once was. On the wall behind us, the only one that is matching the wooden floor, is a bright orange dart. The color contrasts with the dark wood, like and orange covered in dark chocolate. Orange confetti trails from it, as if it was to bring along a celebration. 

Panic fills the room almost instantaneously. Shouting emerges from the Officials, calling attention to catch the culprit. This is what is called an assassination of the Ceremony, and it has happened to me.

Dread among all other emotions fills my chest and climbs into my throat. This can’t be redone, there is only ever one balloon tied to one’s fate. Once it’s gone, it’s gone for good. If the balloon pops, is damaged, lost, anything at all, then the ceremony can’t be conducted. This doesn’t happen often, only once every few years to a decade, but when it does there is a good choice that the person’s life would be destroyed as well.

No one really ever knows what happens to those who have an assassination of the Ceremony, but legends are told about them, which always brings fear. Fear to it happens to, and fear to those who would want to try. The punishment for attempting an assassination is brutal prison time followed by death. The city Officials want to make those suffer as much as humanly possible.

I continue to stare at the string attached to my wrist and the blue on the floor. I will never get to learn of my destiny. I won’t get to learn about my future job or spouse or family life. The length of my life, the amount of happiness I will have, I won’t know. My future is nothing but an unknown blur.