The DEATHMATCH

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter One:

Elijah

Adrenaline rushed through my veins, pulsing with my blood like it's closest companion. I stood on the edge of the mat, watching in anticipation as two kids my age beat each other up, rolling around on the floor like cougars engaged in battle. In three minutes the fight would be over, the winner would be announced, and it then it would be my turn.

Adults, mentors, parents, coaches, and professors huddled around me like a swarm of bees, just as on edge as I was. We have been here for an extra hour, because they kept pushing my fight back. At this point, the amount of nerves stacked on top of my heart is beginning to suffocate it. I just wanted to fight, I didn't care how I did.

My Professor came towards me, a warm smile on his face.

"What are the points?" He asked, quizzing me again on the key areas to go for while grappling.

"Four for control position, two for passing guard, and three for sweeps." I answered, my voice barely audible over the loud cheering of the crowds watching other matches.

"Switch the last two," He said affirmatively. "And you've got it." He pat me on the back.

I looked toward the mat agin to resume watching, and my heart sank to my stomach, or what was left of it anyway. The fight was over. It was my turn.

Standing on the edge of the mat, and looking at my opponent, a tall girl with mouse brown hair, I tightened my jaw to seem more menacing and fierce. It was a very bad lie. I didn't feel either, and what would have come off as a smart way of intimidation failed. I remembered the stats in this girl. 19 wins, 8 by submission, 10 by points, and 1 by choice. And that was only victories. The losses required just as much skill and experience.

We both stepped onto the mat, as motioned by the Ref. I stepped foreword to shake hands, and she did the same. I gave her my best, unfloppy fish handshake I could before backing up. The ref came towards us, holding out his arm to separate us. I looked into her cold, dark brown eyes. She seemed as if she already made up her mind on who was going to win, and it was sickening.

"Fight!"

I instantly felt as if I was flying, my feet moving forward at the speed of light to pull her into my legs. The look of surprise on her face was priceless. I was successful and was delighted to find 2 points added to my score. She tried escaping, and I held her, trying to grab her arm and pull it to her back, an easy submission. She used it as an advantage, rolling her body over to get arm bar. I tried resisting it, but every second I got closer and closer to tapping. The ref instantly got engaged, tapping for me. My face went red with anger, I could have escaped and I knew it. But it was a lost cause now. The fight was over.

We broke up and got to our feet, standing to face the audience. I had given a horrible performance, and that thought made me want to cry forever in a pit of sweat and grief. Actually, it didn't at all because no one deserves that, but you get the point. The ref grabbed my and my opponent's hands, preparing to raise the winners fist. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have mine pulled. But alas, I could hear the cheering of her side of the crowd long before I opened my eyes to look.

The next several minutes were a blur. I remember being hugged about 47 times, by 30 different people. The main hugger being my best friend.

She recently joined our team after her own had became too uninvolved and costly. Skylynn Rivers was that kind of girl who played by the rules and stayed loyal to your side till the very end. Which became a little annoying when you are the rule breaking type who likes to sneak out and go to parties and such, but nonetheless, no one has stuck around as long as she had.