I don't remember much about my parents or what they looked like, but one thing that will never escape the confines of my memory is my last day with them. It was springtime and the mornings were no longer insufferable as they had been during winter. My parents were year ones. They had only lasted in The Agoge for one year before they had quit. Which meant they were destined to live a life performing the lowest duties a citizen can work. Often my father would come home smelling like shit and piss from the sewers he cleaned, that much I do remember. I never knew what my mother did on the other hand, I just know she was always covered in dirt and some sort of plant fibers from being in the fields all day. That particular day was different though, both my parents didn't have to work and they were dressed in the nicest clothes they owned, which were still full of holes and stains. 

I remember waking up that morning to the smell of eggs cooking on the stove. Although my parents didn't make it past year one they still received food for the tasks society had deemed for them. It wasn't much of a life for them, and death always seemed to be a light breath blowing down the backs of the year ones. This is how the world works though. Everyone has enough to eat, everyone has a job, and everyone has a place in life. If you aren't happy with it then you have no one to blame but yourself, because the only person who can quit The Agoge is you. Our housing was just like every other house made for year ones. It was small enough for one family but meant for multiple. It was made of scrap wood and insulated with hay and mud. Creaking floorboards echoed the room and clogged toilets were a common part of life.

As I began to eat the scrambled eggs that filled the wooden bowl in front of me I sat across from another soul that shared a similar fate as my own. It was another boy my age. He was awkward and shy with a much smaller build than me. His bushy hair covered his blue eyes and complimented his skittish demeanor. At this point in life, we did not receive names as they are earned in The Agoge. So, it was strictly forbidden to name a child and the consequences were extreme. This was so parents would be less likely to create bonds with the children they conceived. For they weren't their children to name, they were society's children. They were only allowed to nurture them up until the day they left. So, because of this people just called their babies based on simple characteristics and gave them temporary nicknames that could be interpreted as something other than a name. The small boy in front of me was known as Mouse. I on the other hand had a much different name. I had light golden-brown hair and a symmetrical face, my eyes were as gold as the sun, and my body was more athletic and flexible. There were worse nicknames for people and I had no problem with mine. My nickname was Sunshine. 

One thing parents were allowed to do for their children was offer advice about The Agoge. This meant parents who lasted multiple years had more advice to offer. Mouse and I were not so lucky. While I am unsure what Mouse's parents told him, my parents told me something that didn't make any sense to me at the time. Their advice was "Don't forget the heart." It seemed like that was the only sentence they could muster as the experience had taken too much of a toll on their mental state. My parent's lifeless eyes watched as I finished my breakfast. I didn't know what I should be expecting, but the severity of this experience was not lost on me, even as a child. 

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Bells started ringing around the village. It was time for all of the children who had turned 6 that year to be dropped off. I remember walking out into the streets where many people were gathered. People stared in such a deafening silence that even a whisper would have been considered a scream. As the parents marched their children toward the edge of town where the waiting area was, they said their final farewells. My parents didn't show much expression except for the single tear my mother had rolling down her cheek. I was the only child that my parents had so this experience was as new to them as it was to me. Other parents had done this before and seemed more stern and cold. My father placed his hand on my head but quickly turned to walk away. It was like his emotions had armor that was quickly faltering at the last sight of his only son. My mother kissed my cheek and looked into my eyes one last time before she turned to follow my dad. I didn't know it then, but that was the last time I'd ever see them. I was on my own now. 

There were probably 30 kids waiting to be brought into The Agoge. We were in a gated area by ourselves waiting for something we knew was coming but didn't know when. I saw several kids crying and wanting to go back to their parents. Some kids were quiet and held a terrified expression like Mouse usually does. Others just seemed confused as to be completely oblivious to the situation they were in. The only thing I knew to do was watch. I spent the time examining each kid and estimating my chances of survival based on how they acted, how big they were, and how they responded to the situation. There were only a few that seemed like they would have a decent chance. That's when the ground started shaking. 

It was several wagons that were being pulled by horses. Large men exited the wagons and began unloading what looked like small coffins from the back. They were dressed in all black with scars covering their faces, like hideous creatures from nightmares. When all the coffins were unloaded he opened the first one. His arm shot out to the kid that was closest to him and with terrible force threw him into the box and closed the lid. The rest of the big men started doing the same. All the kids started screaming in horror. Some kids resisted but were quickly beaten into submission. I didn't like the thought of being bloodied before being thrown into a small box. I walked over to one of the coffins, opened it, and began to step inside. I could see one of the burly men watching me with a twisted-sharp smile growing on his face. I laid down in the box and closed the lid on myself. It was dark and the screams outside the box only grew louder. If this was the start of Hell then I can only imagine how it ends.