“So, who’s going to die today?” I asked my brother, who was in the kitchen making coffee.

“I don’t know, the news hasn’t been released to the public yet.” He said.

Every month a citizen in our town is killed. The government says it’s for population control but some people think otherwise. Most of my friends have been victims of this “population control” so I only live with my brother in a small house. I was just going to make myself some breakfast when the news came on the tv.

“Hello, and happy Thursday!” Said the reporter on the tv.

“Today is the announcing of the lucky winner!” He goes on.

The “Lucky winner” is what news reporters have to call the next person to be killed. It’s to make the mood a little happier and make people less nervous about it. It hasn’t really helped much though.

“As always we will choose a random person from this box!” The news reporter held up a large metal box with a hole in the top.

The hole was about big enough to fit an arm in to pick out the little pieces of paper with the citizens names on them. Me and my brother watched intently as the reporter began to stick his hand into the large metal box. Then he paused and looked at the paper, shielding it from the camera so that the paper would not be shown yet. Then, the reporter took a deep breath and turned over the paper to point to the camera so that everyone watching could see who was chosen. Me and my brother’s hearts sank.

“Jack Lawson!” Said the reporter.

That was me… I was chosen to be killed. I fell to the ground and tears ran down my face as I put my hands over my face. My brother sat down beside me and started to pat my back.

“I-It’s ok.” He told me. “Everything will be alright.”

I looked up at him to see him crying too. I knew he didn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth as much as I did. We both sat there staring at the tv with the paper with my name on it still pointing toward the camera. We knew in a couple minutes police would knock on our door. We also knew that there was no escape from it as we have tried to help our family in the past.

*Knock Knock*

We heard the footsteps outside of our house and the policemen talking to each other. They knew how unlucky our family was and how often our family members got picked off, but they didn’t care. They just wanted to get their job over with.

I was beginning to stand up, when my brother had already made it to the door. He took a deep breath and then opened the door slowly.

“Hello officers.” He said to the policemen.

“Hi, we are looking for a “Jack Lawson”.”

My brother looked back at me and started to gesture me to go over to the door. Once I made it to the door, the cops immediately recognized me and asked if they could do it outside. My brother said it was fine and the policemen took me to my backyard. The same backyard they had killed most of my family. They made me get on my knees as they tied my hands behind my back. I then heard them load the gun and I could feel it pointing at the back of my head. I closed my eyes as they pulled the trigger. The pain got increasingly worse every minute until finally they shot another bullet into my head and the pain and suffering had stopped.