Chapter Two

I clutched onto my father for what felt like hours. "This isn't right, they won't take you, they can't take you. I won't let them take you." I buried my face into his chest, sobbing. My mind whirling all with the same disgusting thoughts. My father is going to die on national television.

My biggest fear has come true. The one thing I always knew could happen, I always knew would happen.

My father slowly ran his hand through my hair, "It's okay Mirea, it's okay my love." He kissed my forehead like he used to do when I was a child.

I knew how it all worked. There was no point in trying to run, because the government already knew who had been selected to be sacrificed beforehand. They were probably almost here to take him away for tomorrow's execution already.

I sobbed even harder. My father turned off the television, shutting off Inanis's perfect face, as he caught the eyes of the nation with his own.

I couldn't even look at him without wanting to throw up.

"I won't let them take you." I said again, my words muffled as my face was pressed into his shirt.

"Don't be stupid, you know you can't stop them." Yes, I knew that, but the only thing that could make me feel remotely better is if I pretended I was more powerful than The Bone Cutter.

I had noticed my father had dropped the bottle of wine he had been drinking on the flooring. It took everything I had to not throw up my breakfast when the red wine stained the white carpet. It looked like blood. My father's doing.

So, so much blood.

I couldn't breathe. I gasped for air that was struggling to fill my lungs. Maybe I was panicking, or maybe I was dying. My father, my only friend, my only family, was going to be killed in twenty-four hours.

My father patted my back like I were an infant, "Just breathe sweetie, just breathe."

Of course, this was just like him. Caring for others even when he needed to be cared for the most. He has too much pride to show his true emotions, at least, that's what I always thought.

I couldn't stop myself from thinking if he'd even appear the slightest bit unhappy tomorrow, when he looks at the camera one final time.

I winced, as if the thought had physically punched me. He doesn't deserve this, he's never done anything wrong but state his opinions. Since when is that a crime?

I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream and shout at anyone who would let me. I wanted to scream at Inanis for being a psychopath and adored for it. I wanted to yell at the government for condoning The Bone Cutter in the first place. I wanted to yell at every American for cheering on these miserable events. I wanted to yell at my father for never keeping his mouth shut in public.

There was a pounding on the door, and I clutched onto my father so tightly my nails dug into his torso.

"No!" I said as the door was kicked open, a swat team of professionally trained soldier came in, all pointing guns at my father, and at me. There were cameras who I assumed were live. Everyone was watching this, everyone was watching us.

It all happened so quickly. The room was engulfed in shouting individuals, all ordering me and my father to let go, get down, step away, hands up, and they were all talking at once that I couldn't make out what anyone was saying because my mind was swirling, and my father was trying to speak to me, and my father was going to die.

My father is going to die.

So, not caring that the world was watching, I let out every emotion within me as I screamed. I screamed profanities, I screamed for my father, I screamed for myself. I screamed to Inanis though the cameras, knowing very well he was watching. I called him a monster. I called him a false god. I called him a murderer. I screamed until my father covered my mouth with his hand, silently shushing me in my ear.

"It's alright my love." He kept repeating and I wanted to kick and thrash, but it was my father and he was going to die.

Someone had handcuffed my father, and then they handcuffed me without me even realizing it happened until it already did.

I knew what happened to the families of those who get selected. The families are forced to watch, front row. It only enlightens the people of America even more.

Disgusting.

The soldiers forced us out of the house, as there even more cameras crowding us out on the lawn. My father was first as they pushed him into a black van, slamming the door shut behind him. They moved me to a second van, forcing me roughly into the back seat. I didn't understand why they were separating us, or why I was being handcuffed.

Vague, they were all being vague. The windows were tinted so I could see inside the van my father was in. It was infuriating as I noticed a camera in the far corner of the van's top. They were watching me, even now, as we started moving to what I assumed was straight to the airport where we would be flying to Hollywood.

Hollywood, the city of blood. Slaughter was glorified on the cameras there. In the eyes of the celebrities who all enjoyed watching America divide.

I thought about my mother, who had divorced my father only four years ago. I haven't seen her since, but I wondered if she was going to be forced to watch the event in person as I was. Then again, she hated my father, so maybe she volunteered to watch willingly just for a good laugh.

I spent the entire drive glaring at the tiny camera that was staring down at me. I wondered if, at this very moment, Inanis was watching me. I wondered if he even cared about my father being chosen, that maybe it was just a job to him.

When the soldiers forced us out of the vans, we were immediately taken to a private jet. The entire airport was filled to the brim with soldiers, all watching my father and I. There were masses of camera crews, and reporters trying to speak with us, but were pushed back by the soldiers.

Everything seemed to be happening way to quickly. It felt like only seconds ago I was still sitting on the couch, arguing with my father about the morality of The Bone Cutter. Now we were here, on a jet, counting down the few hours my father has left.

There was a small television in the corner of the limited space of the jet. On it was broadcasting an Oregon-based news channel, as they were informing all those who didn't know that their governor was about to be executed within the net twenty-four hours.