Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated. It's gonna be like this for a while because I have like no time to right. High School doesn't care about the fact that my faithful readers want an update :( Today I have time though, so I'm determined to update. YAY :) So enjoy!.
Thank you to -ChloeWayland- for letting us use her character!
I actually think I did a pretty good job on this one. Btw I still need a beta, anyone?
Amelie Tinting's POV
I stand quietly in the crowd. My Corn silk straight black hair hangs down the back of my olive green tunic in a ponytail. I close my eyes as everyone quiets, and Mayor Jasem begins his yearly speech. My hand tightens in a fist around my golden locket as I feel a stab of pain in my gut. I squeeze the locket harder in attempt to chase away the pain. I feel the cold metal digging into my skin, but my grip doesn't slacken. I can feel the stares of the people around me. I can practically see the horror that must be etched into my parents faces as they watch my face contort in pain. Get a hold of yourself! I command myself. But it doesn't work. I can feel my emotions begin to leak through my steel barrier. NO! This can't happen. I won't let it happen. You don't have any emotions Amelie! There's no such thing! Gradually, the pain ebbs away, and my hand falls limp from my locket. I open my eyes slowly. Mayer Jasem has finished, and Fare stands on stage. Her hand's already pulling out a slip from the girls reaping bowl.
I look down at my hands, not wanting to watch her face light up, as it does every year. That's when I notice the blood, and the pain. I have a gash across my right palm. The red blood practically leaps out against the snow white of my skin, the contrast is so great. I stare at my palm in wonder, entranced by the mark my locket made.
"Amelie Tintings!" Fare's voice booms. I look up at the sound of my name, and the spell is broken. My feet shuffle towards the stage, fear not yet registering in my brain. The crowd is silent as I step up. When I finally make it to the stage, Fare laughs nervously, trying to break the silence. When that doesn't work she pulls out a slip from the boys bowl. "Hadrian Cross!" I glance numbly at the boy who's walking through the crowd. I can't register what he looks like though. The fear has finally started to leak in, and all my energy is going to keeping my emotions in check.
Fare shakes Hadrian's hand, and then reaches for mine. I put my hand out, and she lets out a gasp. I follow her gaze to my hand. Oh right, I'm bleeding. The blood trickles from my palm. I tilt my hand, watching at it drip on the stage. Fare pulls her hand back, and peacekeepers take us to the waiting room.
They bring in a medic. He takes my hand in his and rotates it, examining the cut. After a minute the medic pulls out a bunch of materials. He takes out a wipe first and begins to clean my cut. Just the cut, the rest of my hand is left with blood on it for now. Then he squeezes on some cream and puts a bandage on it. Only then does he begin to clean my hand. As the medic wipes away the blood from my hand, all I can think is that in a few days time, I'll have cuts way worse than this one, and I won't have a warm towel to clean away the blood.