(Chapter 7: Elora)

Peacekeepers heave Peter's limp and blood-covered body off the dirt path. Everyone is speechless, eyes locked on me. I'm almost embarrassed. I've fallen to my knees, my head buried in my palms, now warm and wet from fresh tears. I don't want to move from this position. I want to curl up, right here, and join Peter in heaven. Or rewind time, to when Peter and I are mucking around and laughing in the lake. It seems so long ago. I lift my head up, eyes wide, and scan the crowds for Peter, only to remember that he's dead.

Peter's dead. I'll never see him again.

I think I'm going to vomit.

"Come now, up you get!" Margorie says, and I stand, not taking my eyes off my shaking hands. I feel like I'm going to faint.

"Let's see who our boy tribute is then, shall we?" Margorie suggests, trotting over to the boy's glass ball. She quickly pulls out a name and unfolds the paper. "William Dair."

Even though I'm not moving, my mind is running at 100 miles per hour. William Dair. Blonde hair like me, except he has icy cold blue eyes. Had a crush on me in 7th grade, I'm pretty sure he still does. He also tried to kiss me that year. He didn't even get any sort of punishment, no matter how much I complained. I remember my brother punching him in the face.

Head hanging, I glare at William as he slowly makes his way to the podium. His face is frozen with fear. I almost smile, but I try hard to keep my emotions bottled. After a few more speeches, we shake hands (yuck) and then we are taken into custody.