I roll over onto my back, tangled in a blanket. Something hard and cold touches my arm.

A wall.

Suddenly, the need to escape overwhelms me and I begin to scratch at the metal, hoplessly believing that I can climb it and reach freedom. Defeat sparks the anger in me and it overpowers the fear. I begin to pound the wall and scream, hoping it will break down. Hoping someone will hear and come to my aid.

But the wall stands strong, and no one comes to help me.

The doors are thrown open and I shrink back down, not wanting to be seen; to stand out.

The light burns my eyes. I squint, barely making out the outline of a guard.

I almost struggle when he orders us out, but think better of it, knowing any resistance could result in my death.

I nearly fall on the ground outside. Commanding my legs to work, I line up with the other girls.

A man with bushy eyebrows peers into my mouth and pokes my teeth. His nose wrinkles slightly, and I assume it's because of my breath.

The girl next to me throws up. I try very hard not to do the same.

After about a minute, a dozen other girls and I are herded back into the truck. I glance back to see who's left, and see a little redheaded girl, a blond girl about my age, and- no. It can't be.

My older sister Jenna.

I bite my lip and turn my head back to the group of girls around me.

Beside me is the girl who threw up. On the other side of her is my little sister Lilian. At least we'll be together.

Jenna will be fine. Jenna's tough. Jenna will survive. She can handle life without us.

The same cannot be said for me.

But I realize that I won't have to live without her. We're lined up inside the truck. The guard who brought us in takes out his shotgun.

I watch as the bullet buries itself in a girl's head. She crumples to the ground. The sound of the gun doesn't register until the second bullet is fired. I wince as, one by one, the girls fall pathetically in a line. I can almost feel their hearts stop, while mine is beating too fast.

The guard reaches Lilian. She drops with a faint thud. The girl who got sick follows. I close my eyes, welcoming the calming promise of death with open arms, knowing I'll never have to sell myself for a meal again.

For a split-second, I feel the bullet pierce my skull.

And then it's over.