A/N- I will be using first POV for now since I'm trying to experiment and see which POV is the best for my story
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Hearing that I would have to go through this every week. My sanity seems to have a crack. I go back with tears in my eyes and remember everything I did and that I killed someone.
I killed someone. I killed someone.
I killed someone. I killed someone.
I killed someone. I killed someone.
I kept on repeating that but the pain I'm suffering doesn't seem to get any easier. While walking to my room or cell which I should have been calling it, I look at the thing in my hands that I've been clenching the whole time.
The tag. I look at the name that is on the tag.
Angel
My lips quivered and my eyes begin to moisten once more. Remembering that I killed someone once more. I find myself standing in front of my cell. "Go." The soldier says.
I go in my cell and go to my corner. I never used the bed. Why, because it is not better than the floor so why should I use the bed when the floor is right here with a corner. I put the tag that I'm holding and put it under the rock bed. I find myself staring at the ceiling while sitting in the corner.
I think about what to do. Will I be able to kill more people? For the sake of going home, will I have to become a murderer? I could never imagine this would become my life. 2 weeks ago.
I stand up while patting away my used clothes I've had on for a week already and that already has blood. I look at the small window and let out a breath of filthy air. To make it back home I will do it. I must.
I try to convince myself that even though what I was doing wasn't right I was needed. I start to work out. Push-ups, sit ups, squats, burpees along with other stuff. You name it.
I do that and push myself far but not far enough that I would collapse.
A week has passed.
I kept on doing my workouts and try to pick myself up since I knew that you can't survive here without a calm mind. A 7-year-old should be playing around with friends and making spoiled request to their parents but not me. I'm just trying to survive and not die. This is a not die game.
I have still been eating the disgusting food for a week, but I just need to survive. My second battle has arrived. I am at the same place as before with weapons in the room and I pick a knife. I'm still too weak to wield those weapons. I've been working out for just a week. That is not enough for me to hold those weapons.
I walk out and look at my opponent. and see a kid with a knife. We walk to each other and then jog, then run and while I slash, I still left space for me to dodge. I still don't know how to use the knife. I'm just swinging it and trying to find places for me to stab.
My opponent is trying to do the same and then I swing a knife I cut his left arm, but he was holding the knife in his right just like me, so it was enough but for a someone who wasn't used to that much pain it was enough for me to get a chance.
I swing my foot and kick him and while he is trying to fall, I try to punch to add more strength while he is falling but then my opponent swung his knife while I was trying to get close and then I close my eyes, and while he couldn't quite stab me, he managed to cut me on right eye, and I got a cut right down from my forehead to my cheek.
Before the cut happened, I manage to scrunch up my eyes, so my eyebrow protected my eye from getting hit. I fall back and while my eye didn't get hit, I was also not used to the pain of getting cut so I cried and covered my right eye like a chunni would but in pain.
I got up and looked at my opponent with my left eye and ran to him and swung my knife and managed to cut his through but before he managed to cry out in pain, I stabbed his heart. I looked around at the audience cheering and look at the spot the looks most rich. Even as 7 years old, I know quite a lot of stuff.
So, I did what any sane person would do.
I looked straight at the rich guy with my left eye and raise my left hand that was free and stuck up the middle finger and smile.
The guy that I pointed to laughed and shouted "Hahahah! That kid got guts. I like him. I will continue watching his battles and I will hope that kid doesn't die."
While I didn't manage to get what he said I could see he was laughing but I couldn't care about that at the moment as I had something more important to do. I look at the body and while the kid is a kid, he still looks older than me. I reach for the tag around his neck and looked at the name.
Jake
I grabbed the tag and clench it and walked out of the stage. Of course, not before sticking the middle finger at everyone in the audience and I could hear some people shout but I can care less.
I go back to my cell and went to my corner and cried. I'm still a kid and while I looked a bit confident like that earlier. I still killed someone. Another person.
My eye hurts. It hurts really bad. While my adrenaline was on the high, I could still feel pain however it didn't hurt as much as it did right now.
Later on, that day A soldier came out and threw a rag and bucket of water in the cell.
"Clean yourself up. The bosses want you in better condition than you are in right now and they said if you entertain us more you can get a better lifestyle than this."
My eyes opened wide and was about to speak but I decided not too since taking stuff from scums like these people would be disgusting but pride isn't what I need to survive. I nodded at the soldier and got the rag and put it in the bucket getting it wet and gently putting it on my face.
Arghh! It burns. It hurts. I cry.
I kept on doing that until blood stopped coming out. I kept the rag on my wound and rested a bit. A couple hours I went to go out and can see that there are less kids here than yesterday. I can see many kids still crying. Kids with blood on their hands but I do not see any younger than me. Only older.
I ate and then when the time came to go back to my cell I did. I kept working out. and didn't stop. Time passed and then next week "Pigpen Culling" came again. However,
I wasn't chosen this time.