There was a box being brought forward. The crowd split into
two like the red sea. It was black, blacker than night, creaks streaked over
its surface, while the piece began to fall. It was death, nothing but the fate
of one citizen in the box. All the light in the people’s faces seem to always
disappear when the box is brought forward. Although children don’t know what’s
going on, they do know that soon, someone will be under a pile of rocks.
Each
paper was folded, holding the fate of that one citizen secret. One piece of about
100 papers had a little black dot printed in the middle of that paper. Each
piece of paper was fate and the little black dot was the decider of who was
going to die. No knew who it was going to be, but everyone knew that someone
was going to die and it could be them.
