Future Gladiator

Seventeen year old Burnet is brutally taken from her home to become the face of the Government Gladitorial Division. Her story will unravel both her past and her future and force her to make decisions with both consequences and rewards. Friends will become enemies and enemies may be the exact opposite of what they appear.


2. A Streak of Silver

“Mum!” I yell up the stairs.

Honestly, I’ve never known anyone to sleep in so late in the morning! Even the girls at school don’t sleep in this late, and they’re generally out until the early morning.

“Mum!” I yell once more.

Still no sound from upstairs and if she doesn’t get up soon she’s going to be late for work. As it is, I have to go the market to buy food. I look once more at the clock on the windowsill, sigh and launch myself up the stairs two at a time.

I barrel into her room without knocking and trip straight over a pile of clothes in the doorway of her room. I skid across the room and hit the wall opposite, banging my head and knocking the wind out of me in one fell swoop. I groan and sit myself up to look back at the pile of clothes.

It’s not a pile of clothes.

“Mum?” I whisper.

She lies on her side, her mouth agape and her eyes shut. Even from where I sit I can see where her dirty blonde hair matted with blood at the side of her face.

“Mum!” I shriek.

I launch myself up and away from the wall to kneel beside her. My head spins as I touch the wound at the side of her head and my stomach flips as I catch sight of the blood running down her face. I’ve never been good with blood but now is most definitely not the time to get nauseous.

She groans as I roll her over onto her back and it takes all my self-control not to cry out in relief or begin to sob. Here eyelids flutter open ever so slowly and I greet with her a smile, gently stroking any stray hairs away from her face.

At least she’s still conscious.

Eventually I manage to drag her over to the corner and prop her up in it. I settle her down and run back downstairs to run a rag under the kitchen sink. My eyes alight on a towel hidden under the sink as well and so I quickly fill it with ice before taking both back upstairs.

“Mum,” I say as I enter the room again, “I’ve got some ice for your head.”

I wander into the room and kneel down by her side, pressing the ice compress onto her head as her eyes begin to focus. I only catch a glimpse of horror in them before a voice speaks from the unlit corners of her attic room.

“She’s going to need a bit more than ice, girl.”

I watch as a streak of silver flies from the shadows towards us.

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