Betrayal | A Colorguard Story

Introduction

Hey.

       Everything is dark but so noisy. The sound is making my head pound. The sound of rusty metal grinding against each other. My body feels like its levitating but grounded. I do not know how that is possible but that is all I can sense.

Hello?

       What happened? Why am I here? The last thing I remember is being driven to colorguard practice, sitting in the front seat, and not saying a word to my mother. It was raining and the headlights only reached so far up the road. And then what? I can't recall.

You're almost there.

        Am I dead? Or am I in a coma?

       Hey. I'm not kidding around. Get up. I know you are conscious.

        A sudden blow strikes me in the side of my stomach. My face cringes as my hands go to meet wherever I was hit. I curl into a ball. A light grows brighter as my eyes slowing open, exposed to my surroundings. A pair of legs in black dress pants stand in front of my vision. I glance up at who they belong to. A man. Someone I didn't recognize though. His thick, brown eyebrows furrow.

"What are you? Dumb? Get up, it's almost time," he hisses while crossing his arms. I push myself off the metal floor. Gravity felt different.

"What do you mean?" I groggily mumble, as I've just gotten up from a deep slumber. He rolls his eyes and lowers himself to meet me eye-to-eye. Shivers run down my spine as something in this guy's eyes seemed off... like unreal. The pupils of the man did not reflect any of the lights in this metal room.

"I guess you must've forgot. I guess you'll know when we get there," he chuckles and straightens himself out back to his normal height. I raise an eyebrow, looking around.

"What's this room for?" I ask, the man sighing in annoyance.

"This isn't a room, it's an elevator. It's heading up into a dome where you will be fighting people to the death," he explains bluntly. My body twitches to the word 'death'. Is this man really being serious? I don't understand what has happened between going to practice, blacking out, and then waking up here.

"You are kidding, right? There's no way I've been put into something like this without my consent. I don't know who you are or where I am, but you need to explain more than that for me to believe you," I argue, poking my finger into his chest a couple of times. After giving me a surprised expression, he squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You have been chosen to be put in this survival game for an experiment," he begins, "you gave consent so now you are here. After this elevator stops, a hole will open at the top and you will climb out. There will be a countdown and you will be free to grab things at the cornucopia and run. Be the last one standing."

I blink a few times before shaking my head. I still can't believe this, and he barely answered my question and now I am more confused. I open my mouth to speak but his sudden words shut me up.

"I can't tell you anything else. So please, just wait. Once you are in the game, let your instincts guide you."

Moments pass and I'm stuck staring at myself in the reflection of the wall. My confusion overpowers the fear in my mind, filling my thoughts with so many repeating questions. The deep brown eyes stare back, but then again, not reflecting the lights in this metal elevator. The elevator holts to a stop and I stumble a bit while the man stare at the opening at the top. I glance up, seeing nothing but a blue sky.

"I guess you aren't tall enough to crawl out without anyone's help," the man claims, getting on one knee and holding his hands down like cheerleaders do before they perform a stunt. I step onto his hand as my own hands place themselves onto his shoulders.

"Hey," I began as he lifts me up to the hole in the ceiling, "what's your name? We can be friends." The man chuckles and I pull myself onto a platform big enough for one person.

"I don't have one."

Those were the last words I hear from him before the hole closes and leaves me alone on this small, brown, circular platform. I furrow my eyebrows and sigh, standing up to see what I'm dealing with.

There are other girls, like me, standing on similar platforms. We are all dressed in black tank tops and spandex. Some with their hair pulled up and some with their hair down. Our platforms were placed in a spread-out circle with a somewhat small, metal hut in the middle. It had multiple bags, assuming that there are supplies in each one. A forest surrounds this whole area. No other building in sight.

But that is not what I'm worried about.

Each girl I'm about to fight looks familiar. Too familiar, like I see these girls almost every day. From afar, their body types, hair styles, and the way they casual stand are all familiar.

And that is when it hits me.

These girls aren't just strangers. They are fellow colorguard members. My friends whom I call my family, and I'm about to fight them to the death. This can't be real. Not at all. Who decided this was okay? I love them up, this isn't fair. I'm sure none of us will actually kill each other... right?

Tears creep up onto my bottom eyelid, but knuckle dismisses them as I wipe them away. The pit of my stomach grows deeper the more I stand here, but at least my head stopped pounding from the elevator.

On the platform next to me stands Zoe, someone who I'm fairly close to. She's a junior who is apart of the flagline, never interested in the weapons. Unlike me, she seems fine. Her greenish eyes were stuck to the hut, which is also called the cornucopia. I can't tell what she's feeling, but I'm sure she'll breakdown soon.

To my left is Emily. I'm not that close to her because of how quiet she is but she seems nice and kind-hearted. She holds her arms close to her chest as her body trembles in fear. Her dark eyes look over at me and I give her a small grin. Emily returns it, as usual.

After a few minutes of standing and staring at each other, a countdown starts. A booming noise is hear for each number counting down from ten. After every boom, I whisper the number in my head.

10

9

From the corner of my eye, someone moves. That person is Courtney, one of our guard instructors but is also young. She seems off, even seeing from a distance.

8

7

We all stare at her, counting down. She swayed with the breeze under the beating sun. Her eyes stuck to her ground.

6

5

Maybe she is feeling nauseous. What is wrong with her?

4

Her leg subconsciously lifts itself and hovers over the edge of her platform. Is she trying to go before the time is up? Is she really that eager to get the supplies before her own team, a team that she leads? This can't be right. This isn't the Courtney I know.

3

The wind gives her a slight push, sending her tipping off the platform as she just lets it happen. She hits the ground.

2

"NO!!"

1

She explodes and the starting horn sounds, sending everyone running in all directions. The explosion deafens me, leaving only a ringing as I sprint towards the cornucopia.