Executed

Prologue

            “My name is Arabella, but everyone calls me Belle, Bella or Ari,” I tell the girl. She looks at me with glossy black eyes. I push my soft black hair behind my ear as I wait for her to introduce herself.

            “My name is Librae, Librae Wellwood. Nice you meet you. You know what, from now on you are known to me as A-belle. Does that bother you?” the girl asks with concern. I shake my head.

            “I like it,” I respond. Librae’s caramel hair hangs in her face. Her thighs are large, just like her hips and cheeks. No part of her is fat though. She’s built with defined muscle and, unlike me, is built to run. My boney arms could barely lift fifty pounds. Even though I’m only eight, I shouldn’t care about how much I can lift. I’m going to get stronger in the future.

            Suddenly, someone “zaps” me from behind. I jump about five feet into the air. I turn around and find that my twin brother, Phox, is laughing his head off. Librae blushes. Her chin falls down. “I’m going to kill you X!”

            “Catch me if you can!” he yells back. I laugh and follow him at a fast pace. After about two minutes, I’m panting. Phox can run much farther than me. He always has been able to and he always will be able to. Librae catches up quickly. Phox nods his head is Librae’s direction. With a large grin, he runs over to his friends.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

            Princess Estella stands on a podium in the center of the stage, the large glass bowl at her fingertips. That girl has beautifully long black eyelashes. I watch as her nimble fingers wander around the bowl searching for the name of the two less fortunate citizens to be executed. Finally, she pulls out two names that I don’t recognize.

I hold my friend Librae’s hand. It was only last year we turned thirteen and were able to be drawn from the glass bowl. Now we’re fourteen and our chances have gone up, especially since she and I have had our names entered in a lot because we always caused trouble. It was time for the wealthy name to be drawn. Only one name is drawn from the wealthy bowl while two are chosen from the less fortunate.

Estella’s hand is buried in the names. Finally she pulls out a strip of paper. Slowly and carefully, she unfolds it. The microphone lowers for her to read it. “Librae Wellwood!” she announces.

My jaw drops and my grip on Librae’s hand is tightened. Librae lets go and steps forward. I hold myself back but the tears come in a flood. I can’t keep myself together. My cries are heard from the end of the area.

“Libby! Libby!” I scream. Tears run down my cheeks. Phox comes from behind me and holds me back. He’s always been there for me. “Librae, no! Don’t leave me! Librae!”

Phox pulls me back and the whole crowd leaves. I free myself from Phox’s grip and run to the execution island. Both my parents and my brother carry me back to the train. They know I shouldn’t watch this. They know I have to go home.