I gazed around at the new world. It was now the opposite of where we were. A huge city, with a bunch of flashing lights. It made me dizzy just looking at it. The only thing missing was, the loud street noises and people. I guess it's just the the hundred of us that were in the field. But, how is this place any better? He said we'd be living somewhere beautiful... Now I know better. He lies. Of course.

I gain my balance, and take in exactly where I am. I'm on a roof top of a short but thick building. I have some higher ground, so, in a place like this, I have an advantage right?
Still confused, I don't know if the fact that I can't see anyone is a good or bad thing. I mean, people are trying to kill me here.

So, how do we know when someone dies? Is there some sort of signal or something? Or do we just make it awkward trying to kill someone, when we can't? That guy said, one person must die a day. No more, no less. So how does he stop us from killing anymore? I've been way to confused in these last couple... What. Minutes? Hours? Days? I have no idea.

I sigh. I guess I should get down from here. Look around a bit if I can. Just be careful. Part of me just wants to stand still, but that won't keep me safe at all. I have to move positions eventually.

Finally it pops in my head, but just a little to late as I lay eyes upon the man with a bow and arrows, aiming at me. Shit. This place is the perfect place for people with long distance combat to get me. I'm high up, but that brings me closer to them considering the building is still shorter than the rest. I'm an easy target. Wide open.

With only a few seconds to act, I try to move out of the way from the arrow now flying through the air. I feel pain pierce in my leg severely as I collapse to the concrete roof. The arrow has hit the middle of my right calf. Blood stains my loose light denim jeans. The red is dark and constantly pouring out of the wound. I can barely move, basically assuring my death. No doubt.

I awkwardly drag myself attempting to get closer to the door that will let me exit the roof. Unfortunately I'm moving extremely slowly. This won't work. Not before his next shot. No way. Damn it. I'll be the first to die, and have no idea what the hell the purpose of this whole dumb ass idea was. My attention is captured as the archer releases the arrow, letting it soar. I'm done.

I feel the next arrow hit my left arm. I-I'm still alive? I-I- I have to keep going. If I was lucky enough not to get hit by this shot, then I can't waste my chance. So dragging myself once again increases the pain in my arm. Of course. This wasn't a problem at first, but now even moving like this doesn't function. How am I going to reach the door now? My fate was already bad enough, but my odds are now slimming to a nothing.

Then I see another guy, standing only a few meters away from me. Holding a knife. Oh.... I get it. The archer... Was purposely missing. To let this man come kill me. Which means, I'm screwed. Again. I'm done. There's no use in even trying. I turn onto my back and gaze at the sky. I nod certainly, this is good bye. But, there's a bump in my back pocket. Wait what. What is that? I try to swiftly move my hand towards it, but it results in more pain causing me to cringe. I gradually slide whatever the object is out of my back pocket. A knife. I have one too.

One last chance huh? This moment, will define wether I will live or not. If I slip up, which is likely, death. I can't just pretend I don't have a weapon. The man clearly saw me take it out of my pocket. And in just a few seconds, my time will come. Let's see who fate chooses, and which ones life had more value.
"So, you want to fight? Is that right?" The man asks me. I stay quiet, my throat is to dry to respond. All my focus is on this one moment. My next move.

"Fine by me, but, your in rough shape here buddy." The man smiles. Oh god. They're one of these people, who are insane enough to smile when taking life from the hands of another. This person, they sicken me. What makes them think it was ok, to just kill me like this. Because that guy from the very beginning told us it was? No. I refuse to believe this. I have to, I'm going to, kill this man.

I take a deep breath gathering whatever strength I have in me. This will be it. No more hesitation. Just go. The man kneels beside me, readying their knife. In their eyes, I can tell. That smile, no. They're not insane. They're scared. Trying to hide it behind something so weak. They don't want to actually kill me. But frankly, my fear, isn't near the rate it should be. I should be panicking immensely right now. Weirdly, I'm not. So this will be my strength against the rest. I can do this.

With in the moments wasted, where I could have died. I decided to turn it all around, landing my knife directly in the heart of this man. I can hear him coughing, struggling. The breath stolen from his mouth. I hate it. Those noises. I refuse to look into the eyes of this man. I don't want to know, what this man is thinking. I can feel my heart beat increase rapidly. Pounding harshly in my chest. My palms are sweaty, and I feel disgusting, while being disgusted with myself.

Here I am, just a 15 year old boy, named Lyle Dails, and I was the fist murderer in this whole world.