Prologue, Part 1

A student of the future faces overwhelming odds during a life-threatening tournament.

All of us students in the United States of America have the typical subjects to learn in school �" Reading, Writing, Art, Music, Math, Social Studies, etc.

 

Just after my parents finished all of their school, the government added a new subject. War. We all learn about the successes and failures of past wars, and how they would apply in the present, now 2071 A.D.

 

With a sickly mother that the doctors have given up on by deeming her a “unique case” and a dedicated father who refused to let on how taxing it was to support his entire family and my schooling in one income, from a very young age I had determined that I would be the best at whatever I did. Being the best at everything gave me the opportunity to provide for my needing parents by the time I would be old enough to legally support a job.

 

I excelled in Reading, I excelled in Writing, I excelled in Art, I excelled in Music, I excelled in Math, I excelled in Social Studies... But War was my favorite. The other subjects seemed inconsequential to life itself... But War was all about strategies, negotiations, winning. The entire goal of learning and mastering War was for the chance to learn and master Peace itself. My intellect and resolve would be poorly wasted on the position of a front-line soldier, and even having just finished 12th grade, the government knew that... They were already paying attention to me.

 

For the past couple of years, rumors had been going around about a national tournament that would take place as soon as a program had been fully and properly developed. This was proven a couple of months later, and soon we students learned that it would be about War. Nearly everyone except for the other gifted students wrote off the program as another stupid pact from the government, but the other gifted students and I knew otherwise. We recognized what the need was for, and eagerly awaited the arrival of the Tournament to prove our worth to the country, and, in consequence, the world.

 

The government hand-picked roughly one thousand students for the program by the time it was launched, and I was one of those chosen. Through teary though checked eyes, I said goodbye to my parents, then boarded the transportation vehicle with a dozen of the gifted students and made my way to the Capital of the States.

 

We learned only the knowledge that was allowed to be taught about the Tournament, and though I yearned for more information and noted that they were holding us back, it was ultimately a minor concern. Nothing could hold me back. Nothing would stop me from winning this tournament. There would be one winner, nine others who would pass, and all other 990 students would be sent home with small upgrades to their lives, such as another income for the family and private tutors in War. Nothing was said about what the top ten students would win; the fuel of our imaginations was all any of us needed.

Author's Note

This is an old work of mine, written when I was fifteen, inspired by a dream that I had. I discovered the work recently and liked it, so I have decided to revisit it. I will likely do a lot of editing and may add on to the story, or I may scrap it entirely. I would love constructive criticism over every aspect that could be improved.

Reviews

[Wesley Dingler]

I agree with Louis (and not just because he's my pseudonym) but because he is right. You've got me reading on and on less than two-hundred words in.
Thank you.
Let's see how this ends.

[Louis McKraker]

So far so good, Liz.
I look forward to reading the rest of it.
Have you considered doing a second draft and pushing it to a publisher?
Again, your work, was just a thought.


Let me shut up now and read on.

")