Chapter 1, Part 1

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

With a shuddering intake of breath, my back arched dramatically, I clawed at the table I was laying on, and kicked with all my might. As soon as I had all of my breath, I screamed a blood-curdling scream, tears streaming down my face, the most acute pain I've ever known piercing my belly.

 

The pain turned into nothing but a memory as it almost instantly vanished. I wiped away my tears, shaking like a phoenix in winter, slowly sat up, opened my eyes, and gazed around.

 

A petite, full-figured woman peered at me through some cute glasses, the expression on her face apologetic. “Can you understand me?” She murmured.

 

“I just died.” I answered back, ever one to get straight to the point. “Where am I?”

 

The petite woman gave a sigh, continuing to look apologetic. “I'm not permitted to give you any information about the tournament and your death; when the other students wake up, the Warden will explain everything you need to know. In the meantime...” -she turned her back to me and checked several medical instruments, which I realized with a start that I was hooked up to- “...I can at least explain that I will be your personal caretaker for the next year. Should you die in the field, I will revive you back here.”

 

I frowned, questions flooding my brain, and I laid back down as a pulsing headache pounded against my skull like a particularly aggressive metal band. Resting a hand into my forehead, I realized that asking questions about my new situation would be pointless and frustrating, so I focused my attention to other things. “Are you a real person, and not a hologram?” I asked.

 

“Yes, I am a real person.”

 

“Is this your job?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you get this job through free will, or did the government force you into it?”

 

She paused, either through being distracted by the instruments, or thinking carefully about her answer. I suspected the latter. “The government recommended I take this job. I had a choice, and at first I didn't want to do this... But I realized, who would, if I didn't? You need me.”

 

This answer would do for now, as I thought about her. If I go into the field every day, if I die every day, she has to be cooped up in this blindingly bright room and revive a teenage girl... Every single day. No person should have to watch the same girl die again and again, only to have to bring her back into this life every time. I watched the woman, the doctor, the way her shoulders were hunched and her eyebrows were drawn tightly, the dark circles under her eyes, the way she moved without any will, it seemed. “What's your name?” I asked her.

 

The doctor finished up her scanning and began to unhook me from the equipment, and for a moment she gazed at me over the rim of her black glasses. “Please, call me Minerva.”

 

I gave a wry laugh. “Minerva. What a perfect name. Minerva being the Roman goddess of arts, strategic war, crafting... My name is Jade. I wish we could have met under other circumstances... It's a pleasure to meet you, Minerva.”

 

Minerva seemed to grow more downcast. “Nice to meet you too, Jade.” 

 

Giving a moaning stretch and yawn, my headache seemed to disappear, and I sat up, fully taking in my surroundings. I saw hundreds of other teens lying on similar beds, taken care of by men and women wearing the same simple white garbs as Minerva. I folded my legs, resting my hands on my knees. Every once in a while the grim silence was pierced by one of the others waking up in a similar way that I did; in absolute misery.

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.