The Writers' Games: The Phoenix

Round 3: Entries

District 1

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Emmett Churchill

 (Not submitted this round)

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Ametrine "Aimee" Gairnéad

 "Ametrine stop squirming! Are you trying to get your hair ripped out!? Now stop moving!" The lady who dresses me is angry. She doesn't like that I'm wriggling away from her touch. But she's yanking my hair; it hurts really bad.

"I prefer not to! You're hurting me and I don't appreciate it." The words come out of my mouth but I'm not sure they made sense. Then again, when do I ever make sense?

Just so she stops yelling at me, I sit still like the obedient child that I'm supposed to be. I twist and the fabric of my tank top into a knot, trying to prevent myself from having a breakdown in the final minutes before I go into the Arena. I'd rather wait until I'm IN the Arena to have a breakdown. Seeing as we all know I'm going to have one.

I let go of my grip on my tank top and smooth it out. Mama would be angry to see that my shirt is wrinkled when she watches today. She won't be mad that I'm going to die. She'll be mad that I'm unkempt. To relieve the stress that's building up inside of me, I twist the engagement ring on my finger and think of what I have to get home to. Aurum. I have to get back to Aurum. The person I love. I twist the ring furiously and ignore the tears dripping down my face as the lady fixes my hair.

"You're all set Ametrine. Why don't you take a look in the mirror; it might be your last chance to see your own face again." The lady sighs, her voice a bit sharp at the end. The tears fall freely now.

I stand up and walk over to the mirror that's been hung in the corner of the room. Why are there so many mirrors here? Aren't there people who are afraid of them here? Like me. No, I'm sure there's not. They worship their faces here. 

The girl in the mirror looks like she shares my pain; there are tears on her cheeks as well. Her face is hollow and more empty than usual. Her blue eyes stand out like bruises against her pale face. There's a vague look in her eyes that I never see from anyone else but the girl in the mirror. She's visibly shaking; she looks dead. She scares me... The mirror girl. She's mimicking me again. Wearing the same golden tank top and camo pants. Her fair hair is pulled into two puffballs on the side of her head, just like mine. I hate that she copies me. It's terrifying. 

The girl scowls at me and I'm tempted to smash the mirror so she stops. But I'm interrupted by a robotic voice telling me to get into the pod. I look around for the source of it but the only person with me is the lady. She motions to the pod mockingly. 

"In you go Ametrine." She grins at me, her gold plated teeth sparkling dangerously. 

Shaking with every step, I walk to the pod. I have to remind myself to breathe because right now I'm not doing a good job at it. My every breath catches in my throat. A panic builds up inside me, threatening to boil over like a pot of hot water. By the time the glass wall of the pod has closed before me, I'm a mess. Screams tear their way out of my throat and echo off the walls as I bang my tiny fists on the glass. Hysteria has taken over me at the worst time but I can't control it. 

I'm leaning on the glass and screaming when my pod rises into the Arena so I nearly get myself blown up when the glass sinks into the ground. I lurch forward and almost tumble off my pedestal but manage to right myself at the last second. 

"Damn, she didn't fall. Wish I could've seen that..." I hear a voice to my left snicker and I clamp my hands over my ears before starting to hum the song I had sung during private training.