A world where they have children kill each other for entertainment. Filming a "reality TV show" called The Goners, a girl named Bea has been hunted since the age of 13 and before that she had trained in combat, hunting skills, and survival. Now 17...
Her eyes landed on me and relaxation set through her body.
"Hey Bea, you're finally back," she said her breaths still struggling to calm down.
"Yeah, I brought you back something I think you might like," I said, as I dug around my satchel.
I pulled out a large green book with small golden pattern on the edges. The cover read Wilderness Field Guide. I handed it to Lizzy and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She started flipping through the pages looking at all the different kinds of plants and animals.
"Wow, where did you find this! All of the species are so exotic."
"I came across it on a little adventure I had today," I said. But, I really found it in the place Karsten and I hide and I grabbed it right after he left.
I knew she liked to draw wildlife, sense she has never seen it during her 13 years of life. I got up and walked away just as she started pulling out her drawing materials.
She knows not to ask me where I go during the day. She has asked me enough times to know I won't tell her. She was on The Goners too, but once she got sick, they kicked her out of the game. The public thought it was inhuman to keep her in the game, but for the rest of the kids, it was entertainment. Not announce to the public, a large bounty was put on her head for the other players. So, I found her and store her in here.
"I'll see you tomorrow Liz," I said, walking backwards and waving to her.
"Wait, you're not staying the night?" she questions.
"No, I have things to take care of, and I made a bit of a scene today and if I don't resurface soon, they will come looking."
She nods with a sad smile. I opened and closed the metal door again, exiting the room. I made my way back to the streets. Lifting up the manhole cover, I crawled out.
In the short time I had been gone the weather had changed drastically. The cold wind whipped my face and and the dark clouds looked evil. The fresh smell of rain filled my senses. I could tell the storm would start in a matter of minutes.
I pulled up the grey hood of my ratted old jacket over my head and lifted a musty, faded bandana tied around my neck.
I walked around the building corner and plunged into the crowd for cover. Pushing through the large mass of people, I head some of them yell in protest.
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My eyes shot open to the familiar sound of chimes. The bright lights of the subway made me flinch. The train started to come to a stop and I stood up, seeing that I was the only one left of the car. Loud neon letter popped up on the screen in front of me reading LAST STOP.
Taking a step off the train, the humid night air hugged me in its suffocating embrace.
I slide out of the bright lights of the subway station to the dark streets that are only lit every 20 feet. The only sound in my ears was my steady pace of my footsteps. The silence did nothing to ease the queasy feeling in my stomach.
Tomorrow I will have to catch the publics eye again, drawing attention, so once again I can disappear. Only showing them that I am still alive.
I turned into a storage facility that the years have not been to kind to. Lifting up the door to my temporary living quarters, the sinking feeling of loneliness began to sink in. The room war dark and damp. The only light illuminating it was a small lamp sitting on a warn down coffee table. The orange light was flickering, getting ready to go out.
Taking off the dirty rags I wore as clothes, I went to stand in front of a dirty mirror. The shirt I was wearing hung off my frail, undernourished body. My skin was a ghastly pale. My short brown hair fell into my face as a tangled mess. The only normal thing about my appearance was my eyes. Dark, thick lashes surrounded my stormy grey eyes.
I lie down on my bed and look through the gaping hole in my ceiling. Rain drops start to tickle my nose as tears run down my cheeks. As I look at the sky, all I can seem to notice is the stars all surrounding each other.
My brother taught me that everyone who dies becomes a star to look over the ones they love. He said if I ever lost him, to look to the sky for guidance, because he would always be watching over me. But, the same day he told me that he said he would never leave my side. And since that wasn't true, I don't know if I should believe what he told me or not.
I still look to the spy every night, thinking if anyone is looking down on me, trying to show me the way out of the never end labyrinth. But, when I wake up the next morning I realize I am the only one.
It seems I can never swim out of this ocean of loneliness the world has created for me.
