“Let the games begin!”

            Cheers rang as the enthusiastic hostess’ arm rose, signaling the start of said games. Flags waved and names were chanted. Faces blended with each other, colours became one, all movements were fluid. The contestants stood in a line, staring straight ahead of them. None of the nine stirred. No one blinked, no one ran, no one even breathed. The cheering died out abruptly as they realized no one was scrambling for the woods. All nine contestants remained on their original platforms as if glued to the blue metal from the soles of their bare feet. The stoic expressions remained as people began screaming for someone to move. The hostess repeated her announcement, her voice slightly panicked, her arm flourish less fluid and more frantic.

        Slowly, one child stepped off her platform. Her legs seemed to be weighed down by lead and no one doubted they were. Times were cruel and the things done for entertainment were cruel. She continued to stare straight ahead towards the woods with each step, ignoring any taunts and jeering from the audience.

            She was tired. More tired than any six year old should ever be. Her veins had been filled with liquid metal. She wasn’t exactly sure what type, but she honestly didn’t want to know. She just wanted her blood back. She wanted to feel a normal temperature and not an ungodly heat course through her body. She wanted nothing more than to just give up. That was the only reason why she gave up the game within a game. She thought this whole thing was unfair and she didn’t understand. She was six. She was tired. She just wanted nothing more than to sleep and give up.

            Slowly, oh so slowly, she got to the edge of the woods, leaning against a tree. She let her stoic expression dropped and she knew everyone could see the tears pooling and the pain across her face. She knew they could see her giving up. She wanted to hide. She was so tired. Her legs, her limbs, wouldn’t allow her to go one. She was sliding now. Sliding down the tree. The bark was smooth. Birch, maybe? She didn’t get the chance to study it though, because she let out a final sob and she was suddenly—finally—silenced.