The Tournament

It's been over 20 years since the end of World War 3, which has left a devastating impact on the world. Nations have had to amalgamate together into "continental republics" in order to solve the worldwide economical crisis and as for the crisis in the education systems, it was agreed that a fight to the death tournament would take place.

But this year's tournament is like no other. What will happen? Who will win?

(Inspired by Battle Royale, The Hunger Games and The Condemned. Not intending to plagiarise)


2. Escape (Maya's POV)

Name: Maya Wilson                          Age: 13                State: British                      Republic: European


My life's one big mess. Every day is a constant struggle for me. At high school, I get bullied for who I am and for not "being like them". I'm the one who doesn't listen to pop music and instead prefers alternative rock. I'm the one who doesn't buy expensive things and instead looks for cheaper alternatives. I'm basically the one who doesn't follow trends and instead I be myself.

Life at home isn't good either. My mum, who is an alcoholic and drug addict, doesn't pay me any attention. Neither does any of my family. Dad abandoned the family when I was 3 to be with another woman, so I've always felt unwanted. I've had to look after myself in a judgemental world.

So maybe there's a way out of this. Maybe there's a way to end this horrible life of mine.

That's when my thoughts turn to the Tournament. The show where people from around the globe fight for survival until 1 person remains. Last year's Tournament was held in the African Republic, and 16 year old Yuka Koubasaki of the Japanese State won. Her victory allowed the Asian Republic to host this year's Tournament.

Most people would be terrified of the Tournament. Me? I'm about as excited for it as a poor man is for the lottery. This could be the escape I was yearning for.

All of a sudden, a hoarse voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Hey Wilson, getting off the bus today would be nice." The derogatory voice of Miranda James, one of the well-known local bus drivers.

Having an argument with Miranda can turn out deadly so I grabbed my backpack and got off the bus, avoiding any trouble with her.

During my usual walk home, I began to observe my neighbourhood like always. Hoodlums on stolen bikes, putting out cigarettes and tagging walls. Then there's always the woman who's had the illegitimate child to a man that's not her boyfriend. It's how things are here, unfortunately. Everything illegal, everywhere abandoned.

Soon enough, I reach the council house that I've been forced to call "home" for 13 years. Black bags near the bins which regularly attract flies, cigarette butts found all around me and our cat Pukey (my younger sister named it that after she accidentally puked on it once) roaming around the filthy yard.

Cigarette smoke and the smell of strong Russian vodka linger in the air. So that meant it was no surprise to see vodka bottles scattered all over her and a stack of cigarette butts in the ashtray. Mum, like always, was lying at the dining room table, obviously suffering from a hangover that she "couldn't be bothered" to cure. It takes five seconds for her to finally look at me.

"And you're still wearing that unwashed eyesore. If you actually had the time to wash it, it would be a normal green dress again." I tell her, secretly trying to help her out a little.

"Shut it, you. Oh and there's an letter for you on the coffee table." She slurs before putting her head on the table again.

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