assassins in District 1 (open)

My vision is blurred with tears of pain and fear. A man stands above me, rage clear on his face. He raises his fist and brings it down on me, hard. The side of my face explodes in pain and I try to crawl away, but the man delivers another blow to my back, sending me sprawling. I hear a woman, my mother, crying somewhere nearby. "This is what you get!" the man bellows. "You have to do better, you worthless piece of filth!" Another hit, this time on the back of my head, knocks me unconscious.

I shake my head to clear it. Just another flashback of the days when my father was alive, just another beating. I need to do something to get these thoughts out of my head. I quickly leave my room, walk out the back door of my big house, and go out into our extensive backyard. Trees are scattered all over, leaving every training spot shady with thin streams of afternoon light poking through the leaves of the trees. At the end of our backyard there's a small iron fence, and beyond that thick forest. I pick up a falchion and begin to rip apart a dummy. This is how I clear my head. I just come out here and train, practice, do anything I can to better myself. I'm just losing myself in the rhythm of hacking, slashing, and spinning as I reduce the dummy to shredded bits of fluff when the arrow flies out of the trees beyond the fence. I hear the whistle of the arrow as it soars through the air in my direction. I jump away and it thuds into the tree I was standing next to a moment before. Terrified, I roll out of the way when another arrow flies at me. What the hell is this? Who's doing this? I spring away from my spot, but in my panic I misjudge my location and hit a tree. I slide to the ground in a daze, looking this way and that but seeing nothing but the arrow flying at me. I open my mouth in a startled shout when the arrow catches my arm. It leaves a deep gash, probably down to the bone. Blood pours out of my arm as another arrow comes at me, but I lie flat and hear it soar over me and thud into a tree. I drag myself to the shelter of a small pile of rocks and stare down at the wound. I immediately look away, horrified at the sight. I need medical attention, fast. Arrow after arrow sing through the air above and around me, and when I get my chance I run as fast as I can out of the shelter of the rocks. Another arrow catches my leg, and I fall to my knees. By the way it feels, it's probably just as bad as the one on my arm. My falchion is gone, but it wouldn't help me here. I stagger out of the backyard and into the street. My mother is away at work, deep in the heart of the city. I need help, but I no one's around. I manage a weak cry for help before I black out.