Turning eighteen is scary, in many different ways. But it's even scarier when it meant that any day you could be one of the few picked to fight for their lives. six go in, only one comes out.
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Egyptian's POV
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Usually,an eighteenth birthday would be a scary thing. No one looked forward to it. All it did was bring pain and misery. I always hated the thought of mine, but recently, I've decided to make the most of it.
My mother and I stood in line as we waited to insert my name into 'The Box'. She rocked back and forth, fidgeting with her fingers out of nervousness.
"Mom, calm down." I whispered over to her. "This is my first time putting my name in that box. There's no way I'll get picked."
Mom worried about this day since my birth. Her name was picked once. She was a survivor, but was never the same.
From all the childhood stories I've heard, mom used to be a fun, loud, party girl who never spent more than two hours a day in her own house.
Now? She rarely speaks.
It was around nine in the morning. Mom and I decided to go early so that I had the rest of the day to myself. We wouldn't even be here if it wasn't required.
This law that we lived off of was stupid. On your eighteenth birthday, you insert your name into 'The Box'. You do it every year on your birthday, starting the day you turn eighteen, and until you're too old to do so.
If your name gets picked, they take you and five other people unexpectedly; three girls, three boys.
They put you through all of your worst fears, plus some additional fears, and you keep 'playing' until there's only one of you left.
There's one rule to this 'game'; Don't panic.
Mom and I are now second place in the girls line. It took two hours for us to get here.
The girl in front of us had her hood on. Her black hoodie had a huge, white skull placed on the back. Cute, but not my style.
We watched her write her name down. She put the piece of paper into the box before walking out of the building.
"NEXT!"
I walked up to the counter with my mom clinging to my side. I went to sign my name in the login sheet. I wrote my name under the girl's name that was in front of me. Her name was really pretty; Maeve.
I then wrote my name on the small piece of paper and slipped it into the box. I felt a breath of relief escape me as we left.
