Resting in the meadow, the flowers and trees are welcoming; they wave at me and dance with me as I make my way to the top of the hill. As walking, clouds begin to form. But I don't worry for the top of the hill is right there. Your there, waiting for me. How I long to see you again. I keep on climbing this hill to see you, more clouds gather. Wind and a slow patter of rain begin to fall upon me. Making this worn out dirt road become slick with mud. But you're on top of the hill beckoning me to come up. I'm trying, why are you so far away? This hill is it growing? Who's that man behind you? I see that mad glint in that man's eye, eyeing his weapon. His hands slowly find their way around your neck. Slowly clasping tighter. I run up the hill. The peace willow trees leaves restrain my arms. Their painful roots pull me deep into the mud. The wind lashes hard at my skin, the rain stinging the wounds like salt. I hear you scream, please stop, I can't bare to look up. Mud is slowly sliding down this steep hill. I cannot move, the mud will soon become my grave, and I shall become forgotten; for nothing in this world stands long. I take my last breath before I shut my eyes one last time. Is that the sun? Not a single cloud in the sky? What a perfect day to rest my eyes. You no more scream, and I no more breathe. Let me rest my eyes, at least for a little bit.

Trent pov.

I can't sleep, its frick'in 12:45 am in the morning! I just can't let Mr. Sandman win me over and pour his sleeping powder dust into my eye. Well actually I think that would hurt like a mother…Duncan looks peaceful. Well I guess not unless you count being extremely pale, and sweating like a pig peaceful, then yeah peaceful. I'm about to shake him awake when hear a knock on the door. I throw my pillow at Duncan, only to hear him grunt. I move my way to the door, opening it a little bit. "Hello?"

"Trent, how are you, is Duncan here?"

"Oh, uh…Speactor how nice of you to join us? Yeah he's in here." Speactor opens the door wider and walks in. "Duncan my boy wake up time for you…to assist us." I raise my eyebrow, Duncan assisting? With what? Duncan rolled over and pulled a shirt over his head. "Alright, I'm coming just…give me a second." Speactor nodded and moved outside of the room. Duncan rushed to get his shoes and socks on. "You in a hurry?" I whispered. Duncan just nods. "Why?"

"To prove to them, I'm actually loyal, dimwit." I just shake my head. "Whatever just don't give anything away!"

"Psh, who do you think I am Harold?" Duncan makes his way to the door. "I'll see you in the morning!"

"It is morning dude!"

"Shut up, go back to bed." Duncan left and the door left a small click echo back into the near empty room. Be safe Duncan there's no telling what you're about to face.

Duncan pov.

I'm tired like a female dog! That stupid dream freaked the crap out of me, and also waking up at 1:00am in the morning, really? Can't Speactor choose a regular time to do this mission thing? We're out in the courtyard now. Slowly we wait for a car to pull up, a black van at that. It looked like a kidnapper van; it was creepy to think what Speactor does in his free time. Speactor shoves me into the back seat. "Alright Duncan listen up, and listen well." I stare at him in the eyes not going to let him know I'm scared. "Your mission is to assassinate this man right here. He has gone against us and we gave him a fair amount of time to deal with his problem. Understand." I nod, but killing people? Does that make us a Mafia or something? "After you kill him, set the house on fire, don't let the body still be in peace, I want it burnt to the crisp, understand!" I nod my head fast. "Good, now get ready." I gulp am I ready to kill an innocent man? What did he do to ever deserve this? I don't have enough time to repent for what I'm about to do. Speactor shoved me out of the car. I slowly walk up to the steps of the house. The Smiths, greet now I know a last name, that doesn't make me feel better. Better just get this over with. I slip thru the door, unlocked how convenient. I study the hallway. It was painted a dark green, with the family's picture hanging on the wall. There was a family portrait, a mother, father and a daughter. The daughter looked familiar. I start to walk up the stairs to the master bedroom. I see the man resting on his bed, with a cat sitting up by his foot. I peered over the top of the bed to get a better look at this man. He had light brown skin, freckles, and brown hair begin to gray. My hand glows a faint fire, warming up. The man shifts uneasily in the bed. Oh crap, please don't wake up! I lift my hand over his head and being to light it on fire. The man's eyes shoot open. Those eyes, there mocha brown, just like Courtney's Oh no…this is Courtney's dad!

Mrs. Craig's spot not pov. (Now I'm just being mean!)

Mrs. Craig sobs by her husband bed side. Her husband got into a car accident; he's been in a coma for two weeks. She is going to have their child in less than a month. She fears that he won't be able to hold their daughter ever again, or see their soon to be son. Mrs. Craig kept on praying silent prays hoping they'll be answer. She peeks out the window to see smoke rising in the distance. Probably just a bon fire. She gives her husband a kiss on the forehead and begs him to wake up soon.

Duncan pov.

I ran, I ran as far away from that house as I could. My hands, their cover in blood. I feel impure. Oh God please forgive me. I just killed an innocent creature. Don't look back, you don't see the smoke, you don't see the blood caked upon you. Just hop into the van and run. Run away like the sissy you are. Never look back. I'm almost in tears. How am I suppose to tell this to Courtney? No, you wouldn't have to tell Courtney. She'll find out on her own, right? Speactor smiled and patted me on the back, telling me the first kill is always the hardest, but it gets easier later on. I'm scared to know how more people I will have to kill. Please forgive me Courtney for I have wronged you. We reach the school. I can't feel anything, numb, cold. I sinned a huge sin, how dare I. I make my way to the shower and begin to scrub. This dirty feeling won't leave. I can't live like this. I need to get out, I need to apologize. To who? No one, for this is a secret. I'm sick, the Speactor and the Dean are mad men, and we're the pawns of their little scheme. Which is why I have to stop them no matter how many people I have to kill, their blood will be running those streets in the night soon, very soon.