I run, and run, turning direction everytime I think I'm going the wrong way. Then I come to a small clearing, circle shape, surrounded by trees. I stand, tears slowly running down my 16 year old face. It is stupid, but who cares now? I see a shadow behind a tree. Great, now I'm going to be eaten by a wolf or something.
"I'm sorry," it whispers. I could tell it is a male voice. "I don't want to do this."
He steps out from behind the trees. "My father made me."
He takes a step towards me. His black eyes are dull. His spiky black hair is short but attractive.
"I can't disobey him." He is frowning and looks down to the leafy forest ground. I stay still, expressionless and speechless.
"I will try to make it as painless as possible." What is painful? What? I try to speak, but find myself too terrified to open my mouth. He takes another step towards me. I look into his eyes, my own eyes full of question. He now stands only one metre away from me.
"I'm sorry." He tells me, before taking out a needle. My eyes widen. I try to step back, but he reaches out to me, my bare hands struggling against his. His grip is strong. The needle goes inside me, I feel anesthetic tumbling into my blood stream. My eyes close without my permission. I go limp and fall into his waiting arms.