Chapter 1
The Willow was a strange place surrounded by massive iron gates so
large, they dwarfed the nearby trees. Each autumn, the land outside
the walls became so dangerous, we were forced to shut ourselves in
until spring. Once the gates were closed, they wouldn’t open, not even
for King Thomas himself. Anyone trapped outside would never be seen
again. No one knew what made the outside so treacherous, but rumors
were spread of a dragon as huge as the village itself, and serpents
with venom so poisonous, any contact would cause instant death.
However, the outside was not without hope. Legends were passed from
generation to generation of one who conquered the outside and found
his way back again. No one knew the truth.
I watched as two servants unfurled a banner spanning across the
eastern gate of The Willow.
The Night of Closure, it read.
I had looked forward to this day all year. There was to be a feast so
large, you could smell the pheasant and fresh baked bread from over a
mile away. But even greater than the prospect of a free meal was the
nighttime itself. After the music and merriment died down, everyone
fourteen and older would camp outside the gate. I was overwhelmed with
anticipation, as this was to be my first year.
“Ben!” called my mother. I looked back through the crowded market at
my home. She stood in the doorway of our dusty old cottage. Her long
black hair fluttered in the morning breeze, as did her crimson cloak.
I walked to her, trying to hold back my excitement.
“Oh Ben,” she said worriedly, trying to flatten the creases in my
cloak, “I still think fourteen is too young for this sort of thing.”
"Ellie, I’m sure Ben is responsible enough,” interjected my father,
stepping into the doorway. My dad wore a ragged green over coat that
engulfed his entire body. He had scraggly black hair that seemed
similar to my own, along with traces of a beard covering his scrawny
face. “One person gets trapped every five years at the most. Even if
Benjamin was reckless enough, what are the odds of him getting stuck
outside?”
“I'll be safe." I reassured her.
“Who are you camping with again?" she asked.“Ash, Anna, Haley, and
Pike,” I replied after a moment’s hesitation.
"Five people?" said my father, raising one eyebrow, "Do you even have
a tent that big?"
"And I'm not sure how I feel about Anna and Haley sharing a tent with
three boys," added my mother.
"We’re going to have two tents," I said, answering both their questions.
“Ben,” my mother said “You could always share a tent with your father and I.”
“No,” said both my father and me at the same time. My mother just
rolled her eyes.
“It sounds like you've got everything figured out," my father said,
placing one arm around my shoulder, "Now come into the kitchen and
I'll give you some advice."
We walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving my
mother alone in the doorway.
Our kitchen had more dust than food. It had a simple wood burning oven
and pantry. A few empty cabinets lined the walls.
"Now what I am about to tell you is very important. I can guarantee
you that if you follow these rules you will be perfectly safe tonight.
First off, set up camp close to the banquet."
"But—“
"No 'buts'. Do you know when to get back inside the gates?”
“When the trumpets sound,” I replied quickly.“Right. Once the trumpets
sound, you’ll know when to get back inside. But if you’re too far
away, you won’t hear the trumpets. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“Secondly, go straight to sleep after dinner. Early to bed, early to
rise, right?"
I kept my objections to myself this time. After all, I was already
thinking up all the ways that I could break these rules.
"And lastly, don't eat breakfast until after the tent is down.
Especially if you disobey rules one and two. The morning banquet will
be there until the gates close, so don't feel rushed."
"Okay." I said.
My father detected the disappointment in my voice. He grabbed my
shoulder and looked directly into my eyes.
"Let me tell you a story. When I was your age I was so excited for The
Closure. My friends and I camped out far from the banquet, and we
stayed up for hours past sundown. In the morning we started hiking
back, completely unaware that noon was minutes away. My friend Marcus
stayed behind to pack up the tent. He assured us he would only be
moments behind. Now imagine the shock I felt when I saw the gates
begin to close with Marcus nowhere to be seen. As it turns out, those
few moments made all the difference. That feeling, of narrowly
escaping death… that feeling of relief that you kept your life, mixed
with that feeling of guilt for feeling relief…” my father paused and
swallowed nervously, “I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, let alone you.
That brings me to my one last rule. There is not a single thing in
this world that is more valuable then your life. If you have to leave
any possessions behind, do it."
I nodded one last time. "Dad?" I asked, after a moment’s hesitation,
"If The Closure is so dangerous, then why are we sleeping outside the
gates tonight?"
My father leaned in as if someone unwelcome was listening. "Listen to
me. King Thomas, as great a king as he is, doesn't see those people
die. He doesn't see the desperate stragglers pounding on the gate. He
doesn't watch as the darkness takes their lives. All he sees is
tradition, and believe me, the king is a slave to tradition. The
people that die out there aren't anything more than numbers on a piece
of parchment. Do you understand?"
“Yes,” I said, “But why are you so worried.”
My father seemed taken aback by the question. “Uh—“ he stammered,
“Better safe than sorry.”
My father turned to leave but stopped himself.“One last thing,” he
said, “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.”
“I won’t,” I said, but I knew my father all too well. He was hiding
something, and I needed to find out what.
It's very nicely writen. I will keep reading if you keep writing! 
