Childish War

Chapter 1

I leaned back into the wall, hugging my knees. I wished there was enough room to sprawl out my legs, but this was enough, as long as I remained hidden. I curved my neck so my head would fit underneath the hanging edge of the desk. I stayed there for a while, closing my eyes and pretending I didn't exist. I made sure to stay quiet, though I wished I could hum a tune or two, so I resorted to lightly tapping my feet against the carpeted floor.

I had found this spot about a month ago, and had came here almost every day since. It was my only sanctuary in the entire house.

I sighed; I could hardly hear the constant gunshot from here, which was nice. It was also the only place that I felt safe enough to sleep in.

I had tucked my assault rifle by my side and under the desk at an awkward tilted angle, so it would remain hidden if one of my siblings were to enter the dark room seeking refuge themselves. I would have held it in my arms, in case of a surprise attack, but the barrel would've stuck out into plain sight, giving away my position while I slept.

It did not take long for me to fall asleep.

-<>-

When I awoke, the windows' filter had been changed from sun to moon. I tuned my ears into the silence. Nothing.

By night, most of my siblings give up their Daylight brawl. Now was a time for the Night-Owls, such as myself. This time of day was much safer for Loners, again, like myself.

I crept out of my hiding quarters slowly, making sure to avoid the creaky spot next to the wall. I grabbed my rifle and swiftly swung it around my back, tucking the strap under my shoulder. I hurried out of the room with haste.

I stuck close to the walls, whose shadows served as protection. This strategy was best for a small-framed girl such as I. Even though it was Night, some of the more heartless of my Daylight siblings could have stayed up late to pick off loners. Even if there were none, my older brother, Pike, was a notorious Night-Owl that acted as a Daylight sibling would, although he was a loner himself.

I made my footsteps light and delicate now, as I approached the kitchen. I cursed myself for being so impatient and heading out before early morning, but my stomach reminded me that I've been out of food for five days by then. I was sure that if I fasted another minute, I'd starve.

I peeked into the kitchen through the threshold. I smiled to myself as I found it not in use.

"Hi, Mara," A whisper of a breathe crawled up my neck and I shivered. The voice was that of a pubescent boy, too low to be a girl's, but too flamboyant to be a man's.

I turned my head to acknowledge Pike, who was stooped over my shoulder to reach my ear. The boy had decked himself out with very many shimmering bead necklaces, multicolored bandanas, and spiky hair; an odd look trademarked by him and only him.

He must've seen the fear in my eyes. "Don't worry, I don't feel like War tonight."

I sat on the high-top chair, with my hands folded into my lap. I looked down at them nervously, glancing at Pike every few seconds.

Pike had invited me into the kitchen and began making preparations for our midnight meal. He pulled out a pot and filled it with water, placing it over the stove to boil. Every few minutes, a hand strayed to fiddle with one of the necklaces hung from his neck, or to straighten the bandanna tied around his forehead. He also smiled at me whenever he noticed me peeking.

"So, what've you been up to, Pint?" He broke the ice. I winced at my nickname.

"The usual," I replied coldly, eyeing the oddly-shaped long gun fastened to his back by an assortment of beads and torn leather. He gave a short chuckle before pouring a pack of pasta into the boiling water.