A Deadly Wish

Chapter Eight : Against All Odds

Lucia had never been this scared in her entire life. She was going to fight someone she didn't even know, and she would probably lose. Although she wasn't this bad at fighting, her fists couldn't defeat her opponent. There were so many options for people she would fight against, as Ginny told her that there would potentially be some monsters there. The camp had all the resources they wanted, but not her. She didn't have a single chance of winning, and she knew it. Her fists wouldn't handle it. But now, the girl had to live with it, whether she wanted it or not.

She was very mad at Isabel, but she was also grateful; she saved her from further harassment. Yet the situation wasn't to her advantage, and the eldest didn't plan that this would happen. An unknown opponent, chosen from her very own hands, when she would draw her fate? Unexpected. Troubling.

That one morning, the blue-eyed girl woke up in a haze, nothing on her brain. She was full of empty smiles, and she was all dizzy, trying to compose herself in front of reality. She took deep breaths, looking at herself straight in the mirror, biting her lower lip nervously as her negative thoughts took over. I can't do it. I'll get beaten in front of Isa and everyone. Others will laugh at me, and I'll end up in the nurse's office. I might not even cure and die from blood pressure. Lucia stopped herself, adjusting her hair as she kept on staring at herself in the mirror. No. I won't end up getting hurt. I'll be fine. Completely fine. I'll get embarrassed, but at least I'm going to be fine.

Imagine being a vulnerable teenager who's stuck in an apocalyptic world, who lost her mother-killed by the hands of her very own sister- and that must deal with the thought of fighting a stranger that has ninety-nine percents of winning. And for someone like Lucia. Vulnerable, who relied on Isabel for support, who doesn't have a clue where to go in life. Hard, ridiculously hard.

That's with those thoughts that the girl started to prepare herself, brushing her hair as she gazed at herself in the mirror sheepishly. The other boys and girls were watching her and snickering in her face to see her this weak again, this troubled, but she didn't even think about it. She wasn't even conscious that she was being watched, she was in her trance, making sure she would look presentable.

I'm not good enough. I'm not good enough. I can't fight off whoever is going to stand above me. I don't have the capacities. I can't do this. The teen thought as if she was on the verge of tears, tilting her head back. It was difficult. She felt like she couldn't breathe, and that she was overwhelmed with the feeling. She shook her head and stood up, clenching her jaw.

"I can't let them see me like this" Lucia muttered to herself quietly, looking down as her eyes flickering in anticipation. "I'm such a wimp. I need to get a hold of myself. I can't believe I'm overreacting to such a situation. Isabel is handling it so perfectly."

So, she wiped her tears and inhaled sharply, praying to God that she would survive. The only way that she could handle it was to try, yet if she didn't even dare to die, it would be way worse.

***

People were chanting Lucia's name, inviting her into the arena. She felt all small and pathetic in her Outer Banks tee shirt, being a teen in the middle of all of this. She tried to ignore how hard it was, but she kept on slamming her hands on her ears, annoyed. When she entered, she noticed it looked like a roman amphitheater. People were hovering over her in rows that got higher and higher, as she stood in the middle, not knowing what she had to do.

Lucia searched for Isabel around the place. Yet everywhere her eyes wandered, a new face, but no Isabel in sight. Her heart throbbed. Maybe she wasn't too important for her sister, after all. She couldn't believe Isabel would miss such an important event. Well, that's what she thought.

Nobody spoke, yet everyone was cheerful, yelling her name, throwing either roses or rotten tomatoes. Fortunately, she dodged the tomatoes each time they went at her, and she'd drop the roses down with a shy smile. They didn't know why the people of the camp were acting this way, but she didn't find it very endearing. A gravelly voice caught her off guard. A masculine voice, from a microphone, hesitant.