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The rain trickles down my face, mixing with the blood from my scar, now split open again. The wound throbs anew, distracting me from the deadly task at hand. Focus, I chide myself, not wanting to get sidetracked. A little pain is nothing compared to the consequences if I don’t succeed. I see it, suddenly, the target. Right in front of me. I stop, cursing in my head as the leaves crunch beneath my feet. I see the girl whirl around, a fearful expression on her face.

“Who’s there?” she calls, frightened. I thank the gods for the veil of darkness around me. About to finish my task, I hesitate. Why do they do this, pit one teenage girl against another? What do they hope to succeed? Of course, I can’t think like that. I must think about the punishment if I were to fail. As long as you follow orders, you’ll be fine. That’s what they always say. Then it must be true. Why would so many people agree on something that is false?

The girl is still glancing around, wary of a stranger watching her. I pull the knife out its sheath, the dagger temporarily gleaming in the moonlight before I thrust it forward and it’s covered in blood, the type of blood that can never be washed out no matter how hard you try.