Survivors

Chapter 2: Jada

Chapter 2: Jada

        He’s looking at me, or towards me. I can't tell. I know he’s hurt about his friend, the one with the fiery hair, having to go into the arena. I think her name is Isabelle. She’s close to tears. I’ve never known her to be like that, she seems so fierce in the arena. One time I saw her take down three opponents without even ruffling her hair, why is she now crying?

          She and Xain exchange words for about 2 more minutes before they—Xain, the fiery haired girl, and her sister I guess—split in separate ways. The girls walk down the hall, but Xain is walking toward my direction.

          I press my body tighter against the wall, in hopes to conceal myself more. I don't think he saw me as he passed by. I let out a sigh of relief. I walk out from my hiding space and see it, a pink rose, lying on the ground about 6 feet from me. Did he drop it? Was it on purpose? Was it for me? I quickly pick it up and hide it in my jacket, careful not to smash it, and run to my room.

          It’s mostly quiet here with everyone either training, eating, or hanging out. My mentor excused me from the training center after the selections showed I wouldn't be in the arena. She said it was good because I’m not yet ready. It’s true. I’m not good with many weapons. I can throw a knife, but it doesn't stick most of the time. Swords aren’t all that deadly in my hands, either. The one weapon I’m mostly good at is a bow and arrow, depending on the bow. I can fire arrows, but not perfectly. The only things I do perfectly are snares, nets, camouflage, medicinal plants, and edible plants. What could I do in a one on one battle with someone wielding a weapon?

          I went to the common area to watch the battle—Xain's battle. I don't know what draws me to him. He’s just so...different from other fighters. Most of the fighters are arrogant, cocky, mean, or heartless. Not to mention the ones that are scared, schizophrenic, paranoid, or even deathly from drug use. But Xain, he’s none of that. He’s confident without arrogance. He’s aggressive and fierce, but at the same time is benevolent and kind hearted. He even takes time to collect the various flowers from the arena after each victory. He also never acknowledges any of the audience. He barely acknowledges the occasional interviewers. I have never seen anyone move like him, and he’s pretty much one of the only ones will hold back on a kill not because he’s scared or squeamish, but because of other reasons—rebellion, instilling fear, showing mercy, waste of his time...I couldn’t guess if I tried.

          Once in my room, I take out the pink rose. I examine it and search for something I could place it in. There’s a tall and slender container containing some kind of marbles—never seen it before, could be new—that I decide on. I dump half the marbles out, bite the bottom of the rose off, put the rose in, and replace the marbles before I fill the vase with water. It adds a nice touch to the otherwise dreary room.

          I decide to turn on my government issued television. There’s nothing on but the weather, a few sports game highlights, the news, and then, to no surprise, the recap of the battle between Xain and Brute. The announcers are talking about what a surprising match it was. Apparently, Xain was the underdog according to a national and capital poll. The nation voted 48% that he would win, the capital—I hate how cruel they are—voted him 23% likely to win. Either way, people around the country have lost money with this match. I laugh, thinking about the millions of dollars people lost on betting against the smaller warrior—even David defeated Goliath.

          There's something about Brute that is unnerving, though. Once Xain walked away, he attempted to get up. He was losing so much blood, but he was still trying to get up. It took 3 medics to hold him down so that a fourth could sedate him with some kind of syringe. Even while going under, he was still trying to break free of the medics. Knocked out, the medics began to cover his wounds and remove him from the field. Xain, however, just walked off with a bouquet of wild flowers, looking unconcerned about the whole thing.