How Far One Goes

Chapter 4

                                                    Rose's P.O.V.

I watched closely as Luke and Storm walked up to the mediumly sized arena; it was some kind of odd stadium floor. As soon as they stepped on top of the raised platform, a bird cage clattered on the floor, encasing them so that they couldn't escape. The people that had left us here really took this idea a bit far. They weren't really going to make us fight to the death...would they?

*sigh* Who was I kidding? They had made all of us appear in this hot, muggy room, they had made us stay in this hot, muggy room, and worst of all, whenever we needed to go to the restroom, we were forced to enter a tiny wooden bathroom. And the door didn't lock. (O_O) Fighting to the death was just the next thing on the list, I guess. But it was still despicable. If we ever made it out of here, I would personally give them a sweet kiss from my aching fist.

A voice that was everywhere and nowhere bellowed, "Begin!"

Luke immediately took a fighting stance, fists raised, feet quick on the draw. On the other hand, Storm didn't seem to know what to do. She fidgeted nervously, staying in the same place. I wanted to call out to her, tell her to do something, but I knew that if I partook in any kind of "rebellion," I'd be punished. Whether deprivation of food, or a screeching pain in my head while I tried to go to an unsettled slumber, (they were in my head...O_O) I really didn't need any more anxiety in my life.

Storm cried out in pain, breaking me from my thoughts. I immediately focused on Luke. He looked very uneasy and broken, instantly telling me that he had struck Storm. How could he?! Not after the promise he had made me...

My mind flashed back to a flashback, but as soon as I visited that haunted memory, I was anchored to reality, by the agonizing yell of Luke. This time, I looked toward at Storm. She was about to break into tears, a fact that told me she had hit Luke. How could she...?! A wave of deja vu hit me, and I fell to the floor.

Why was this happening? My best freiend Luke, and the friend I had quickly made here, Storm, were now fighting. What was this madness?

Luke, whose nose was bleeding from the single punch, was now angry but calm. This was when he was dangerous. I could tell by the way his eyes bulged out, and he had a tense expression.

"Don't do it, Luke!" I cried out to him, but even I, as hopeful as I was, knew that there was no inevitable way of escaping what was to happen.

He let loose a flurry of punches on Storm, each blow harder than the last. This had such an agonizing effect on her, that it made me wonder how Luke was bullied at school all these years.

Storm fell to the floor, screaming and holding her sides. Luke was breathing heavily, nostrils flared. He had calmed down, but I could tell that Storm was about to unleash her fury.

...Was she? It was eerily calm in the air, and I could tell that Luke might have indeed made a fatal, piercing blow.

"What the--"

Never mind, Storm had kicked at Luke's legs, making him fall to the floor. What followed was a strange and awkward fight taking place on the ground. She held him in a weird kind of head lock, while Luke was taking desperate measures to regain what had looked like his victory, spitting everywhere and scratching wildly.

I knew this wasn't right. I mean, obviously, it wasn't right. But this seemed deeper than jnust a moral decision. What kind of ethics did we have, that we suddenly went primal on this? They could have stayed still when the voice had echoed, refused to do anything? So the million dollar question was: Why didn't they?