A Waking Nightmare (TNHID Book 2)

Chapter 5

Willow

I inhale quickly, trying to catch my breath. My shirt is damp with sweat, and I pause to wipe my forehead. Meanwhile, my mother yells at me to keep going.

"Come on, Willow! It's only a three-mile run. You can take a break after." She watches me from the sidelines as I sprint around the large backyard, pumping my legs harder, while my dad keeps track of the distance I have run. Preferably, we would run through the town, but we don't want to attract attention to my, technically illegal, training. And Mom also just doesn't feel like following me around the district.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one running," I mutter breathlessly. She knows that running isn't something I'm particularly good at. I'm very fast due to my small frame, but I struggle with distance.

I straighten up and keep running.

It seems like all I do now is train. I don't hunt unless it's to practice archery or knife throwing. I need to run every single day. I try to build up muscle. I am trained in basic hand-to-hand combat.

Honestly, I don't know why she's making such a fuss about this. Why exactly am I any more likely to be reaped than everyone else?

I have voiced this question multiple times, but I never get a clear answer.

Why would I be so important that even the president has singled me out?

But I continue to train. Even if it's not likely I'll get reaped, there's always a chance. And I would rather be prepared for it.

I finish the three miles and collapse to the ground. The grass tickles my neck and gets snagged in my braid. "Water," I wheeze, and my dad comes over to me with an ice-cold bottle of water. I swallow half of the miraculous liquid in one gulp before screwing the lid back on.

My mom walks up and I prepare for the talk she is going to give me. She's always saying that I'm not fast enough, not strong enough, not trying hard enough. But I'm ten years old. There's only so much I can take.

"I think that's enough for today." Her words surprise me, so for a moment, I just stare at her in disbelief. "What?" I shake my head and push myself up off of the grass.

"What do you want me to do for the rest of the day?"

I can barely believe it. I'm slack jawed, waiting for her to laugh in my face and tell me to run another mile. "Just relax. Your dad said that I may be working you too hard, and I realized he was right. Surprisingly." She smiles and nudges my dad, who playfully shoves her in return.

"Hey, I've been right plenty of times!" He insists. My mom laughs and shakes her head.

"Rarely." She begins to walk back towards the house but my father grabs her from behind, keeping her from moving. She turns around to escape his grasp, but he leans down and kisses her hard. She closes her eyes and melts into his embrace, kissing him back. I can see him pulling my mom as close as he can. I turn away, pretending to gag.

"Um. Mom, Dad, there are children present." They slip back into reality and seem to realize what they were doing. My mom flushes tomato red and my dad looks equally flustered.

"Sorry, Willow." My dad rubs the back of his neck, staring at a particularly interesting patch of grass. "We may have gotten a little carried away."

I laugh. "A little?"

My dad smiles, but my mom's face drops, lost to whatever thought has suddenly taken over her mind.

My father exchanges a look with her, but it's lacking the mischief from before. I can see that there's a question lingering on his tongue. They want to talk about something, and I think I can guess what that something is.