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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Groaning, I felt coldness surrounding me. My head pounded harshly and there was an unbearable ringing in my ear.
I blinked my eyes open. My first thought was that I just had a really bad hangover, but as I looked around through my blurred vision, I noticed that I wasn't in my room.
I was laying face-down on the ground, surrounded by trees that I could barely make out.
I was still dressed in my birthday outfit, my hair still in bubble braids.
I thought back to what happened. How I was taken from my party. 'Don't panic'. Those were the last words I heard before everything went to shit, so I'm aware of the trauma me and five other people are about to endure.
And I'm scared shitless.
My gloves roughly gripped at the dirt beneath me, trying to distract me from the pain the ringing caused.
Fuck.
I have to get up, but there's only so much I can do with half my vision gone. I blink repeatedly in attempt to get my eyes to act accordingly.
There's a voice. It's faint, but there. Like someone's screaming at me. I try my best to focus on what they're saying over the ringing.
"Get up!" My eyes shot up to see a male figure standing over me. He reached out for my hand.
Something about him seemed familiar.
The blurriness in my eyes disappeared, allowing me to see the guy in front of me clearly.
It was the guy who threw his cigarette at my car, except he was shirtless and wearing black and gold boxing shorts.
Asshole.
I hesitated, but as an arrow landed next to my head, almost killing me, I quickly grabbed him out of fear.
He pulled me off the ground. The second I got to my feet, they took off running before my mind had the chance to catch up.
Four people ran in front of us; two guys, two girls. I could only see their back profiles. The hoodie wrapped around one of girls caught my eye. It was the same hoodie the girl Maeve was wearing when I put my name in the box.
Could be a coincidence.
My heart raced at the thought of not knowing what I was running from. Or who I was running from. All I knew was that I was running for my life.
