bryson graff | district one | fin

"On your mark, get set, go!"

Careers burst forth like lightning, some bathed is the color blue, others in red, weapons all bronze and gold and silver, shining perfect against the mid-day sunlight. They were crowded together according to the color they wore, waging war against the other side. They called the game battle ground. The rules were simple, attack, don't be the first to fall or you are out, be the last side standing, move on to the next round. Once there is only one team left, it was everyone for themselves in an epic finale, only one person getting to claim the right as winner. After all, in the games, there was no such thing as multiple winners.

Bryson's hair shined golden as she ran and the blue shirt she wore made her eyes stand out. There were ten people on the other team, and ten on her's, perfectly even. She must have played this a thousand times in her lifetime, tried to impress the coaches that sat off to the side of the wooded area in lawn chairs and gossiped while they watched, a huge trophy at their feet for the winner, but she had never gotten a true victory. More than once, her team had been the last standing, but when it was her against everyone, she had never gotten past the top five remaining players.

She ducked and rammed her shoulder into a girl with pretty red hair, and watched as she sailed through the air and landed on her back, struggling to breathe. The res of her team was making quick work of this one too, which had unluckily been built by mostly thirteen and fourteen year olds, and before too long, a whistle blew, and blue uniforms began cheering and grouping together for a proud embrace.

Round Two wasn't much more difficult, and in Round Three, she had been one of the first people out, but luckily her team still rang victorious, and then she found herself in the finale. All of her siblings claimed she was the golden child of the Graff family, that she was better than her older sister, and better than all the younger siblings as well. She had buckets of friends, and knew she was easy on the eyes with long legs, pouty full lips, frail shoulders and a fit body, but in truth she knew the only reason people said all of that was her looks. If it came down to it, her sister would have beaten her senseless in Training. Bryce loved it, but Cole had always worshiped it.

Her father was a surgeon and her mother was a bitch, and they both expected her to succeed. She had to do this and win for real, there was no other option. Her team stood in a huge circle, just as if they were in some mini-bloodbath, and as soon as the whistle blew, they all attacked. Bryce had a different strategy than the others, though, immediately turning and climbing a tree, then waiting as the others deflected each other's attacks and jabbed at air and kicked each other down until there were only two left, both fighting on an expert level, both with pride pouring from their pores, since they both just knew they were going to be the next winner.

She sprinted for them, kicking one boy's feet out from under him and then using his chest as a spring board to fly at her only other opponent. She brought the hilt of her sword down on the top of his head, he punched her in the stomach, she slapped him in the face, he bear hugged her, she brought both of her fists down on his back as hard as she could. Back and forth they fought, the others all standing by to see who the winner would be. He turn sideway and sent a foot straight across her face, and she stumbled back, blood already pouring from her nose. She swung her sword at him and felt the sickening feeling of it entering his body, this time on his left thigh. Twisting in a circle, she swung again, his left arm sliced open, though not much with the dulled blades they were using, and then she planted her foot square in his chest and pushed.

He stumbled back and she watched, hoping, praying she had done enough, and he finally fell. The crowd erupted in cheers and encircled her, telling her things like "Good job, Bryce!" and "you were sick!" But they all became silent as the trainers walked over, one of them hefting the trophy into the panting girl's arms. "You won, congratulations." Then they all turned to leave. "Is something wrong?" She asked, and one of them turned. "You won, so no. But if you had lost, you very well might have been expelled from our program. Climbing up a tree and doing nothing- that's the coward's way out." She thought it was smart. "We don't commemorate cowardice, Graff. But you won, so count your blessings."

She watched, suddenly feeling just as badly as if she had been the first one out of the stupid game, as they all disappeared. Apparently, after the trainers brought it up, the other players agreed, because none of them said anything anymore, and they all disappeared as well, leaving her standing there, biting her lip to keep the tears away. She won. It shouldn't have mattered how.

When she walked in her father, who she hadn't seen in almost three days (most nights he just slept at the hospital since people in One usually had no sense) wrapped his arms around her. "You won?" he asked, and her little brothers and sisters all crowded around her. "I sure did. Where is Mom? And Colby?" She asked, and her father nodded upstairs. "She's getting her ready for the dance. Oh, do you know where she put that pearl necklace her mother gave her? She needs it." "Yeah, I'll bring it to them." She went and found the necklace, then went to her sister's room, where the girl Bryce had grown up with had disappeared, and some beautiful woman had taken her place. "These belonged to my mother," her mom started, and she didn't even bother to notice the trophy in her other hand. She was supposed to be the golden child, everyone claimed. Wasn't that a joke.

"You look... amazing, Cole." She said, then she left before either of them could see her struggling to swallow back her tears. She had the looks and the friends and the brains. She had lived her entire life trying to make her mother happy by being a lady. Now, that was all going o change. After tonight, she was going to be whoever the hell she wanted to be.

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why am i so emotional?
no, it's not a good look
gain some self-control
deep down i know this never works

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table by zoe