I just tightened it up, removing verbs of the to-be form, removing adverbs, and any redundancies. I agree that the Sectors seem a little too Hunger Games, but otherwise I didn't have a problem with it. As one of the other posters said, lots of books start out like that.

As a professional writer, I think the writing style could use some revision and honing to make me want to keep writing. In terms of the subject matter, I'm interested.

My eyes opened before my alarm sounded. Normally tired and groggy when I woke, today I was wide awake. I waited in bed until the alarm went off. 8:30am, August 31. The last day of the month.

There was no need to splash cold water on my face to wake myself up, but I did it anyway. In my room I found an outfit of clothes already put out for me. Mom must be worried. There wasn’t any other reason a parent would dress their 17 year old son.

Downstairs, I smelled eggs, my mouth watering as the unexpected treat. The only way to get eggs in Sector 4 was to buy them at the crack of dawn.

When I entered, my mom put on a smile. “Morning, sweetie.” Her eyes had dark circles under them, like she'd barely gotten any sleep last night.

“Morning, mom.” I took a seat at the table.

She brought over a plate of eggs and toast. “Here you go.”

As I took the first bite, my dad came through the front door, still dress in the orange vest, white shirt and jeans he wore to work. He'd taken the night shift and just got home.

He was a Divide Keeper, his job was to monitor the wall and keep it secure. Many residents of Sector 4 were Divide Keepers because the hours weren’t too long and it paid enough. It was one of the only decent jobs anyone in our position could get.

“Hey buddy, good morning!”

“Morning Dad.” I said, “Want some breakfast?”

He was obviously tired, but he grinned at the sight of the food. “Are those eggs?”

My mom placed another plate of eggs on the table. “Yes, they are. These are for you.” She kissed him on the cheek.

He sat next to me and shook salt onto his eggs. “So, are you nervous?”

My mom stared at us, frozen in mid-step.

To be honest, I wasn’t. I knew I should have been, a least a bit, but I really wasn’t. “No, I don’t think so.”

My mom pitched in. “It’s alright to be a little nervous, but you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Somehow, I don’t think she was talking to me. It felt like she was saying it to my dad and herself.

“I’m fine guys, really.” I assured them. “Besides, they say it's only a 2% chance I'd be compatible.”

“You never know, bud, you never know.”

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