The Games

Author's Note: I got my inspiration for this story from several places, including the book that I am reading and a story I read on a friend's blog. I am trying to add some semantic devices, like personification. In this story I bend the rules of grammar a little bit, by starting sentences with conjunctions. Using it gives the right feel to my story.

I need to get out of here. The dark storm clouds are yelling at me, telling me to find shelter. But I know I can't. I don't have time. I keep moving, churning my legs even though I'm not sure how long they will last. Up ahead I see exactly what I didn't want to see. Critters. I take a hard left turn, running for my life, not caring  about the building pain in my legs. As I'm running I see the ruins of a burnt building. The Rats probably did that. Seeing that building brings back the memories of the days before I was thrust into this nightmare.

I lived in a nice suburb in the middle of Idaho. Our family was a well oiled machine. My threes sisters and I went to school during the day, to get our mandatory education. Our mom stayed at home manning the house and keeping it clean in preparation for the disaster that would come when we all came home. My dad worked at an accounting firm and racked in a good sum of money. Don't get me wrong, we weren't rich, but we still had some money.

And then, when I was only 11 years old, the people of America elected Symeon Quick as their president. This was probably the biggest mistakes Americans made in their history. Quick started out doing things that made him a hero to the American public. He cut taxes and added millions of jobs around the nation. But it was not meant to be. He soon created the worst reality game imagined, although it was wildly popular with those not participating, called the Quick Games. The government walled of and evacuated a state, a different one every time, threw about 50-100 people ages 18-30 in the state, and made them fight to the death. Alliances were quickly made, although the better term would be gangs. The winners became wildly famous, and lived a life of luxury. The losers, of course, died. The one rule that was not constant was the amount of winners. Sometimes five people walked out victorious, sometimes it was only the last man standing. This sick tradition continued, never coming to our state. But then one day, when I was 21 the Committee showed up.

They said that everybody of the right age in our area were to be tested to see if they were good enough to enter the Games. I would've slacked so I wouldn't make it, but then I would've encountered serious punishments. So I gave it my all hoping that there were too many other people that were better than me so they wouldn't accept me. But they did. I had six months to prepare because there still was a season going on. I worked hard, knowing that since I had already been accepted, I might as well try to win.

The season started and the state chosen was Louisiana , which was bad because it was rainy season, and some of the cities were below sea level. The biggest, and the meanest, gang called themselves The Rats. Quick had added one more thing into recent Games, to make it a little more interesting, which he called Critters. They were hideous creatures that were part rat, part dog, and part spider. It had the snout of a rat, eight legs, could sniff you out like a dog, and was fast. You did not want to be caught by one of these creatures.

On March 23rd, my late mother's birthday, I was sent to Louisiana. The next day, The Games started. I survived the first few days, staying alone and finding a few packs scattered around the western border. The Game Masters left packs of food, water, and supplies around to help out the contestants, but they were always guarded by a few Critters. That's what had happened leading up to me getting in this wild chase with Critters.

Up ahead I see the perfect getaway -- a dense forest. I push even harder for it, which I am surprised I can do. Once I break through the tree line I slow up, but only a little. I weave my way through the woods, trying to lose the Critters. I am so focused on where I am running that I nearly smack into it. It's a log cabin. I quickly go in, hoping the wood walls could protect my scent from the Critters. Looking around I see the best thing possible for me right now. Another pack. I had already gotten away with the one that the last pack of Critters were guarding, and now I had this one. Inside was the one item I was hoping for, matches. I collected some wood from the forest and brought them to life with the matches. It made me feel like I was in heaven. But I had to be wary. Critters, or other contestants for that matter, could be lurking around any corner. Unfortunately for me, I drifted off to sleep and woke up to a nightmare.