The First Redemption Games (1-5) & The Writer Games | 6 - 7

Finals: Taylor Voltt

Tree, tree, tree, hey look! A tree!

Alice and I were walking  for what felt like hours now and my feet were killing me.  Alice and I  talked and laughed the whole time, forgetting it what kind of situation  we were in. I could say she was the only real friend I ever had.

Our laughter was  interrupted by a scream. We scanned the scenery around us frantically.  But found nothing. I breathed a sigh of relief and  I reached for  Alice's hand to ran away, but I found nothing. As I looked over my  shoulder, I saw no Alice. She was gone.

I stood there frozen for  a second, until I heard a scream again. Alice's scream. Breathing  heavily, I ran towards the sound. After hours of frantically searching,   I heard a cannon. The tears were no freely streaming over my face. My  one and only fried. Dead. Just when I almost considering giving up and  just lay on the ground, I saw something ahead of me. My pace quickened  and before I knew it, I was running at top speed (ouch) towards it. I  narrowed me eyes, and what I saw shocked me; it was a city. A ruined  city. There were buildings, collapsed of course, and a Godforsaken  street with nothing but a few brown leaves lying on the stone sidewalk. I  carefully walked on the street, my eyes scanning every inch of the  city. Just when I looked up, I tripped on something. Without looking on  what I tripped, I ran away. Only a few seconds later I dared to look  over my shoulder. It was a body. A body covered in blood; a body I  recognized. Alice.

A sob escaped my lips.

And I ran away.

Sick. The person who did this was sick. Mental, bonkers. No other words to describe it.

Crying hysterical  I  fell to the ground. I was going to die, just like Alice. Just like all  the other s who died in this sick game.

I was going to die alone.

What I said at the  interview, was a lie. My brother and grandmother aren't sick, hell, I  don't even have a brother or grandmother. In my district I was treated  as filth, because I was homeless. I stole to come around, I broke into  people's houses to sleep and would leave before dawn. That was a horrid  life, and being reaped for this game was the best thing that ever  happened to me. But now, it's the worst.

I looked up, my cheeks  wet from the tears. In the distant stood a girl. I looked at her, she  looked back. Then, she walked away.

Why?

Here I was, vulnerable  as ever, and she chose to walk away. She could've easily killed me. If  someone had to win this, I will pray it'll be her.

I forced myself to stand  up. With my feet I kicked open a door of a random building that was  still intact. It was a shop, with a desk on the right and an old wooden  chair in the middle of the room. And on the left wall hung a broken  mirror. As I looked in it, I couldn't be more miserable. My brown hair  was a birds nest, my face was covered in scars and blood and my hazel  eyes looked so sad I almost cried again.

I covered my face in my hands and lay down on the ground, forcing myself to sleep.

That night I had a dream. A dream that looked so damn real.

It was Alice. We were  both standing in my old home at District 3. And she was screaming at me.  Screaming for me not to give up, that I had to win.

When I woke up the next  morning, I felt strong. I got up, my knife in my right hand, and scanned  the street. Then I heard a sound behind me. Quickly I turned around and  saw a girl with short black hair, looking at me like all the other  people in District 3 did.

Without hesitation, I threw the knife at her. Right into her chest.  A loud BOOM broke the silence.