war

Instructions

PART 1 - @igloooo1 'To say I've been preparing for this moment my whole life would be a serious understatement. I've worked twelve long hours, every single day, for weeks, just for this. So if I don't get chosen, gah- I don't know what I'll do if I don't get chosen. This was the golden hour, my only chance. What would I do if I didn't get chosen?Train harder for next year, sneak in, bribe the person who DOES get chosen?' 'I survey my surroundings, making sure I'm alone before continuing down the path. I hear the rustling of leaves. I whip around prepared to fight them off, but no one was there. I narrow my eyes, but turn back around, this time jogging away, tripping on the rocky unbalanced road. Oof. I look at my knee with a grimace. It was bleeding, but not too badly. I used my bandana that I keep on my wrist (For safely purposes of course) to stop the bleeding, and tie it to my knee.' 'I left the path, with a hardly noticeable limp, and I waited where the ceremony would be held. No one else was there. It was just me, standing in front of an empty stage, and a few tables set up for tests. The same ones that I feared as a child. But my Mom feared me getting taken away more. That was when I realized how unsafe this world really is. And that was when I realized how badly I wanted to do this. You can't catch me now, can you?' Part 2 - @1lMaM Because if I didn't? If I didn't prove my rightful citizenship for the city to see? Then... all my mother worked for would be a waste. Each display of talent, striving through the trials of Pandora just to be safe, and I would lose it all for her. For both of us. I didn't remember what it was like outside Pandora, but my mother had told me enough. She'd painted me pictures of the monsters the soldiers kept at bay, the thieves the guard refused, the untameable wilderness Pandora had carved out. And I would /not/ let go of this home without a fight. I stepped down from the stage and walked out to one of the lakes surrounding the ceremony area. It was peaceful here, more peaceful than the tables that reminded me of panic and fear and the ever-pressing deadline. And the government was never satisfied with them. The bell tolled from inside the ceremony building. Part 3 - Not when my mother had fought tooth and nail to give me a home. I’d vowed that all her hours of labour would not go to waste, and so here I was! Standing in front of an empty stage. Waiting to prove my worth. There’s another rustling of leaves. I whirl around again, stumbling slightly on my unsteady knee. The bandana was already starting to show traces of red. I frowned. It had been a gift from my mother, embroidered with the crest of Pandora. I’d have to wash it later, but that wasn’t my main concern now. I saw the silhouette of a figure coming out of the woods. I braced myself for an attack. You’d never know what came at you next in the trials. “Who’s there?” I called out. There was no reply. Figures. I guess everyone needs a dramatic entrance every now and then. The silhouette grew larger and larger, slowly resolving into the shape of a person. They paused just out of sight, far enough that I wouldn’t be able to make out any physical features. PART 4 - I stare at the person with narrowed eyes. Dramatic appearance and all that, this person sure did not reply much. And this was getting on my nerves. Here I was, running to make it to my dream land. And here I was, stuck being approached by someone I did not know. The boy, was certainly older than me. By two years. His hair fell on his face, those locks of honey gold, coiled as much as possible. He stood tall, with a straight posture, narrow shoulders, shorted upper half and longer lower half. He stared at me too. Only his eyes were dull black orbs stud inside that of lovely almond shaped eye lids. And his sk1n, it glowed under the light, that lovely olive shade. He continued walking over, and I took steps back. His sharp jaw, and his large clenched hands that showed he was either going to h1t me or was just naturally tensed as I was, they were certainly something to ponder about. He did not frown, nor did he smile. It was like he had nothing on his mind, complete darkness. I would say that too. His eyes were too dull for that stunning appearance. "Who are you?" I repeated, frowning as much as I could. This was not a good time. It never was. But this silent soul of a man who was staring at me did not help my nerves. That and my knee. Ugh. I could scream in frustration. Here I was running to join them. And now here I was, being cornered by an unknown boy. This wasn't pleasant. Sometimes I wonder if being Nobody would have been better. Then somebody else could bear these troubles. But right now, his mouth was twitching. Oh no...What was he going to do. 'You are hurt. Let me help." Really? Out of all the one million things one would think this guy would ask me, or say to me, he came up with this?