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The room I stepped into was pure white, but I had never seen a room so dark. My peers were wandering around, and I can feel waves of terror rolling off their bodies. We were all dressed in whites and khakis, blending with the bland walls. That's all we were now, insignificant, unimportant. The only color in the room was her dress, a deep crimson, as if soaked in blood. Nobody knew her name; we referred to her as the Wicked Woman. She had taken everything from us, our life, our pride, our souls. She sat in the middle of the room, surveying us with a gleam in her eye. She enjoyed this, she relished our anguished screams, the horror stricken look of realization on our faces when we learn one of us didn't make it through the Selection. I hated that woman with a loathing so deep it burned my insides. A group of my friends came up to me. All of them had passed the Selection, as had I. We were all embracing when the Wicked Woman yelled out "get in line, everybody!" this was it. Step two, as she called it, was beginning. A hush fell over us as we got in line. We knew what was about to happen. Some would survive, some wouldn't. It all depends on if you passed the Selection, her cruel and wicked test. One of my best friends was in front of me in line. "did you make it through?" I asked anxiously. "no" he replied with a sigh. Panic started rising in my chest. "no, I can't lose him, not now" I thought, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. How could she do this to us? The Wicked Woman was tearing us apart from the ones we loved, for what? For her entertainment? For some twisted form of revenge? My eyes filled with tears, but I held back. I had to stay strong, for him, and everybody else who weren't chosen. By this time we were near the front of he line. I looked up At him, and saw anguished fear in his deep blue eyes. It pained me to see him like that, he looked vulnerable, unlike him. But he had accepted it, and set his jaw defiantly. He hugged me fiercely and stepped forward with a look of determination flickering in his eyes. That was the last time he would ever hug me. He turned to face the Wicked Woman. I blinked, and he was gone. He disappeared into a blinding flash, conjured by her hand. Gone, forever. I stepped forward and after a second, was able to pass through, because I had passed the Selection. Because of some random fate, I had survived, and he had not. I couldn't take it anymore. The pain was too much to bear. Why me? What did I do to deserve to live? I began to weep. I wept for him and for all my friends. With tears streaming down my face, I walked to the other side of the room and joined the others who had made it through. She calls us the lucky ones, but I don't see anything lucky about us. 

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