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My head started to spin after I threw out the last bit of my lastly eaten meal I now can’t even recognize lying on the floor. My hand rested in my hair I have washed this morning, however now they seemed more oiled than ever. My body trembled in fear of losing my friends out there, but I was ready to end my life for theirs as it didn't seemed to matter any more. This wasn't my first battle, but somehow I felt it needed to become the last one.
I heard how others abetted out of their cells just to encourage the crowd to favour them, but I didn't see the need to show myself off or to be favoured. My only dream was to get out of this never ending circle, which went around as long as I remembered myself.
Fifteen years ago I managed to gather guts to disobey the rules as I went into the arena to save a random girl from a terrible death by her own family member, although I was just an usual spectator, a child really. But I have been remembering that terrifying moment as if it had happened just yesterday...
His face looked tired and skin too old for his actual age. I was glad that I got his light brown eyes and rippling hair, as now looking in the mirror I could still see him looking back at me. He wasn't my hero, he wasn't powerful, but he was the father I looked upon and for me he was the best he could have ever been.
Fight started without me realizing it and although I could understand from the crowd who were up against each other, I wouldn't dare to watch - at least not till the moment I heard some girly squeaks coming from there. My heart went wild and I didn't understood why. After my eyes saw her tiny body pressed under her mothers weight, hands started to shake. My nose caught up the smell of blood and my body in that instant just turned against me as if someone else was using it in my place.
I saw myself standing up and everyone next to me did the same as if I have wanted to start an applause avalanche, however then my feet started to move on its own and I ran to her as if my life depended on it. All the arena went silent. Soon enough my muscles started to ache as I wasn't much of a runner. I made myself already a fool by entering the arena, but then I saw my hands moving on as they shoved an elbow into little boys stomach and pushed him away.
I know now it was a terrible idea, but then it seemed right thing to do - as I gathered all the strength my little 10 year old hands managed to collect and pulled out the spear. Maybe someone helped me then, I don’t remember, however I remember how her mesmerizing eyes were starting to shut down, how pale was her skin while I was trying to lift her up and how much blood she spat into my face while trying to catch each new breath.
That day I disobeyed all the possible rules we had for the fights and as a punishment crowd got to see judges taking their turn one after the other to whip me. First one started off with a long leather skinny whip which hurt as hell, however later on from other judges I got introduced to other whip types - with metal fangs, triangle shaped blades and pointy blades, razor bladed... - and when the last one was pulling out those few muscles and skin previous ones didn't manage to rip off, I finally could turn away my gaze from the doors doctors took her away from me to black out.
I lost the thread of this memory I have been returning to once in a while, as my ears gathered new sound apart from the screaming – short cries! I knew instantly that over the wall must be a woman as men weren't allowed to cry at any cost or they paid for these tears with their fingers. I went closer and stepped on some old box to see through a little window near the ceiling, but cell on the other side of the wall seemed empty.
-Why are you crying, babe?- I heard my voice crack a little and echoing all over the space I had. I rolled my eyes and face-palmed myself for such a stupid phrase, but couldn't think of anything more appropriate for this situation. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything?!
But cries suddenly stopped and the only thing I could hear was her footsteps moving closer to the wall. We stood there still in silence as if nothing outside these walls didn't matter. I really hoped to see her, but instead she just scared me with her blade whacking the window right in front of my face.
-Look, ... Don't worry I won't kill you. I volunteered for this fight as I just don't see a point in moving on any more.- This time my voice didn't crack, but it resonated fear and luck of confidence, and this was the first time I really wasn't sure, weather I will be able to pull this off. But she still didn't said anything. We stood there for two lion roars already and I needed to get ready for the death sentence when she finally spoke.
-No one should die like this!- her voice was musky, distant and really quiet like a childes, and something trembled inside of me. I felt the urge to hug her and tell that everything will be fine, however we all knew that would be a terrible lie to hold on to.
The last lion roar opened our doors to the arena and with a short sword in my hand I went into this loud and smelly space faster than I was asked to, as I felt the urge to see this little girl next to me, however my heart almost stopped seeing HER coming out of the cell next to me - the Bloody Jibber. Everyone called her BJ, an assassin, who volunteered for these fights since she turned thirteen and in every fight she killed all the men in the arena in order to let women live.
Her eyes angry, stance still but ready to move at any time. I was surprised that this time she went for a short sword as well as she used small knifes in all her previous fights. And suddenly I somehow saw her different than all the years before - she looked dangerous, but at the same time beautiful and this crystal sadness in her eyes just blew me away!