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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Maeve's POV
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My eyes started to water as the pen hit the paper. I wrote my name down. I had to do it twice, one on the sign-in sheet and one on a slip.
I put it into the box. I fixed my hood as I walked out of the cold, dark building. The entire vibe sent chills down my spine.
My foot stomped onto my skateboard. I rushed to my house. Arriving, I scanned the building I could once call home.
Now, it was just a house. A lonely house. Though I grew up in it, it hadn't been my home since the day my dad got picked to be on the 'Panic Room'.
He didn't survive. He never made it back to us.
My mom went insane. She replayed his death over and over from the screen of our tv.
She was put in a mental hospital. Seeing our mother that way really took a tole on my older brother. He was only fifteen when he shot and killed himself.
In the note he wrote to us, he stated why. Why he had to leave. He said he couldn't handle the sound of our mom's terrified screams at three in the morning.
He didn't want to see her suffer. The rocking back and forth. The paranoia. The tears that never left her face.
The panic attacks.
But, he wasn't referring to my mom.
My hands shook uncontrollably. My breathing sped up its pace. I felt my lungs tighten beneath my skin.
I don't ask for help often. I handle my own healing. That's what I've taught myself to do after being alone for five years. When I do need someone, that's when you know it's bad.
I need someone.
Thirteen. I was thirteen when my mom got sent away for losing her shit and my brother left me to fend for myself. My dad died two years prior.
I was a kid. Shit, I still am. I just turned eighteen. I've just done one of the scariest things I could ever do. I just signed up for the thing that took my father from me. Took my family.
I don't have anyone left. It was always painful to admit when I needed someone, because even if I tried to get help, there was no one who would give it.
Tears stained my cheeks. It wasn't until I was seconds away from passing out that I decided to do the one thing that could help.
