by Natasha Austin

Created on: September 19, 2011

I stare at the amusement park ride, remembering another contraption a lot like it. All this one did was go around and around, faster and faster, tipping as it rose up, to the delight of the riders. The ride stops in a few minutes, and the riders return to the ground, thrilled, with a happy memory, and the option to go again.

My boyfriend asks me, “Do you want to ride that one?” I hesitate. Do I? The sounds of the park quiet as I remember not all contraptions like this brought happy memories.

There had been a camp, out of the way as camps tended to be. But this camp was special, for special kids. Kids like I used to be, those who had “potential.” We would go to camp with many others, our special peers, take all sorts of tests they called activities, and if the Master Commander found us to be...extraordinary, he would choose us, and take us. Take us to the Planet of the Mines.

My last day on the Planet of the Mines was similar to the day I arrived there, in that I rode something like this amusement park ride. Only my emotions were different from the first experience to the last. That first time, twelve of us special kids were taken aboard a transporter, similar to the ride my adult eyes were now staring at, in a secret room in the main building at camp. It had seats and we were strapped in. It spun, faster and faster. We barely felt it, the way it was designed, and we were told it was a cool ride that would take us out of this world.

We thought that part was just a gimmick.

We had felt privileged to be the Chosen Ones, to ride the transporter in the secret room, with only a momentary disorientation at the darkness and spinning sensation. Then a humming, a slight jolt when the device “landed” on the Planet of the Mines, a stillness before being led out to another place.

We were brought to a world outside our own. A world that at first looked like a child's idea of heaven, with plenty of space to play, every favorite food a child would want, toys, cartoons, decorated rooms of our choice, to suit our individual tastes. There were children from all sorts of planets, cultures, and tribes. We were given “group guides” to show us the ropes and help us with any questions; they were cool, kids like us. No rules there, except to participate in the “activities” and to have fun. Paradise for the Potentials.

Soon, however, we were made to lie on special cots, and funny lights would shine into our eyes, onto our skin,

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