Three Days

"Mariana, guidance needs to see you. Right now," Mr. Bruce, our math teacher said looking me in the eye. I looked at Marcelino.
'You'll be fine. I'll text you later' he mouthed. I nodded and walked to the guidance office.
When I walkdd through the glass doors, I saw one of my friends sitting there, Elizabeth. We were ushered into the conference room and told to sit down.
"Girls, you are chosen to be executed humanely, of course, by the government. You have three days till you will be escorted to the capitol of the country. Your parents have already been notified. Have a good weekend," the guidance counselor spoke in a fake voice.
Three days until I am shipped off to be killed by the government.
Three days until my funeral, along with many other teenagers across the country, will be aired on national television.
Three days.