Childish War A/N: So this is just something I scrapped together when I was bored. I plan for this to be very lax and short as far as chapters go, if I even bother continuing I leaned back into the wall, hugging my knees. I wished there was enough room to sprawl out my legs, but this was enough, as long as I remained hidden. I curved my neck so my head would fit underneath the hanging edge of the desk. I stayed there for a while, closing my eyes and pretending I didn't exist. I made sure to stay quiet, though I wished I could hum a tune or two, so I resorted to lightly tapping my feet against the carpeted floor. I had found this spot about a month ago, and had came here also every day since. It was my only sanctuary in the entire house. I sighed; I could hardly hear the constant gunshot from here, which was nice. It was also the only place that I felt safe enough to sleep in. I had tucked my assault rifle by my side and under the desk at an awkward tilted angle, so it would remain hidden if one of my siblings were to enter the dark room seeking refuge themselves. I would have held it in my arms, in case of a surprise attack, but the barrel would've stuck out into plain sight, giving away my position while I slept. It did not take long for me to fall asleep.
Chapter 2 When I awoke, the windows' filter has been changed from sun to moon. I tuned my ears into the silence. Nothing. By night, most of my siblings give up their Daylight brawl. Now was a time for the Night-Owls, such as myself. This time of day was much safer for Loners, again, like myself. I crept out of my hiding quarters slowly, making sure to avoid the creaky spot next to the wall. I grabbed my rifle and swiftly swung it around my back, tucking the strap under my shoulder. I hurried out of the room with haste. I stuck close to the walls, whose shadows served as protection. This strategy was best for a small-framed girl such as I. Even though it was Night, some of the more heartless of my Daylight siblings could have stayed up late to pick off loners. Even if there were none, my older brother, Pike, was a notorious Night-Owl that acted as a Daylight sibling would. Although a loner himself. I made my footsteps light and delicate now, as I approached the kitchen. I cursed myself for being so impatient and heading out before early morning, but my stomach reminded me that I've been out of food for five days by then. I was sure that if I fasted another minute, I'd starve. I peeked into the kitchen through the threshold. I smiled to myself as I found it not in use. "Hi, Mara," A whisper of a breathe crawled up my neck and I shivered. The voice was that of a pubescent boy, too low to be a girl's, but too flamboyant to be a man's. I turned my head to acknowledge Pike, who was stooped over my shoulder to reach my ear. The boy had decked himself out with very many shimmering bead necklaces, multicolored bandanas, and spiky hair; an odd look trademarked by him and only him. He must've seen the fear in my eyes. "Don't worry, I don't feel like war tonight."
Chapter 3 I sat on the high-top chair, with my hands folded into my lap. I looked down at them nervously, glancing at Pike every few seconds. Pike had invited me into the kitchen and began making preparations for our midnight meal. He pulled out a pot and filled it with water, placing it over the stove to boil. Every few minutes, a hand strayed to fiddle with one of the necklaces hung from his neck, or to straighten the bandanna tied around his forehead. He also smiled at me whenever he noticed me peeking. "So, what've you been up to, Pint?" He broke the ice. I winced at my nickname. "The usual," I replied coldly, eyeing the shotgun fastened to his back by an assortment of beads and torn leather. He gave a short chuckle before pouring a pack of pasta into the boiling water. "Hiding away? Good girl. A bit offense-lacking for my tastes, but a Pint like you should stay that way." I was going to reply, but decided on staying quiet. I tugged on the strap that held my rifle, to place it in a more accessible position. Any minute he would turn that shotgun on me and kill me on the spot. He may even have positioned my corpse humorously eating the meal he was cooking. The Daylight Siblings would get a kick out of that in the morning. I realized I had been daydreaming when Pike slid a bowl of pasta in my direction, nearly dropping into my lap. I looked up at him. He winked and carried on to find a bowl for himself. "Say," He started, "Have you seen that really big yellow bowl? I can't find it," He slammed the cabinet, to emphasize what he was looking for was not there. I blushed, knowing where it is. "My hiding place," I murmured, embarrassed to have stolen a household item. Five days ago I had stolen the bowl from the kitchen piled with food. I had then used it to trim my hair, which I found growing to long again. Pike simply sighed angrily and flung another cabinet door open.
Only now do I see the resemblance to Battle Royale But this is fun to write, so I shall continue no matter how cliche'd it's become Chapter 4 Pike eventually settled for a smaller bowl I usually used for cereal and sat next to me. He drowned into his own thoughts and eventually I felt as if I were the only one in the room. I thought about leaving, as my journey back to the desk would take a while, but company was so rare. Especially with someone like Pike. An hour flew by in semi-silence and the clicking of forks onto porcelain. "It's amazing," Pike eventually sighed, only now noticing that he ran out of pasta a good half-hour ago. "What," My voice cracked. "They are always shooting at each other, creating so much ruckus and waking me up half the time, and yet they never manage to shoot each other off. Have you noticed nobody has died in a month?" He began, scratching his teeth with his fork. I didn't respond immediately, but rathered to ponder the fact. I settled on a shy shrug. Pike resorted to snickering at his remark, regarding the Daylight Siblings as less than blind, unintelligible shots in the dark. We both knew that this was not true. It was mere defense keeping everyone, including themselves, alive. One successful bullet could end any of us and put the rest of us on a quicker path to ending this whole thing. The last of us children will be the heir to Father and thrust into a life of wealth, fame and security. Not that many of us cared about much more than the security factor at this point. A soft rustling sound behind me broke my daze. I turned around in time to catch a blur of blonde hair and denim fabric disappear behind the doorway. Pike noticed it too. "Want some pasta, Ailis?" He offered, as if he wasn't the most infamous of us Night-Owls. We both knew he could be trapping us. Ailis, an older sister of mine, wasn't one to fall for Pike's traps. "What if I do?" She managed, her tone lower than the average girl's, but full. "Then here," Pike slid the bowl of sickly plain noodles across the floor toward her. It reached halfway, then stopped. Ailis stepped out from her hiding place, probably because my presence calmed her suspicions. She made her way across the vinyl floor of the kitchen and picked up the food many other Night-Owls were missing that night. I could never get over Ailis's appearance. She was the eldest living daughter of Marissa, one of Father's four wives. Therefor, Ailis inherited her silky blonde hair and stunningly sharp eyes. She was tall and regal to boot. Everything I could ever wish to be physically.
Battle royal is what inspired the writer of hunger games it is a Chinese movie in which high school students have to kill each other because it's the law and there class was selected that year. The writer of hunger games admitted to it being inspiration and watching the two movies you can see there pretty close however battle royal is just a kill people movie while hunger games ends up having more of a story that wing said battle royal came first and infact ends about the same way with a boy and a girl living because they refuse to kill one another.
Chapter 5 Like a coyote, Ailis froze after retrieving her food; unable to decide whether to stay for the company or leave for the security. Her eyes timidly spanned across the room to me and Pike. She stayed crouched and small, weary to even stand up. "Come on, Ailis, join us," Pike cooed. I couldn't decide whether he was flattered or offended by her fear of him, so I figured it was a mixture of both. "Yeah, it's scary here with just Pike," I croaked, a dry attempt to be humorous. Pike merely gave a discouraged laugh. Ailis gave no reaction, not to even mention no signs of restored confidence. Pike raised his empty bowl toward her to lighten the mood. Ailis, giving in, sighed and took a seat next to me. She shot an uncomfortable grin at me before digging in. I smiled back, fearing that it seemed forced. I distracted myself by flattening out the skirt of my dress. Lately, the velvet black skirt of mine had acquired many stains and a wretched stench of sweat. I considered taking the risk to the laundry room, but dismissed it for another night. "So, what have you been up to lately," Pike inquired Ailis, breaking the silence. He leaned over the counter as if he were genuinely interested in her response and would hold into her every word. "Nothing special," She concluded between mouthfuls. Ailis's strategy was of the generic Night Owl. Instead of joining one of the Day Siblings' Armies, she settled for stalking around the house at night alone. More than likely, she also had a hiding spot for the daytime. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her since the last banquet that Father threw. She, like many of the Night Owls, was a master of fading into the background. I laughed at the sudden thought. I supposed that was what I was as well in the grand scheme of things.