The Trials of Panic

Chapter 1. Another boring December

Friday, December, 1st, 2031

The sun was shining bright today with no clouds in sight. It would have helped with the cold if it wasn't for the wind that felt like it blew right through you no matter how many layers you had on. There wasn't even any snow this year. A shame, snow always helped cover how gross the town looked in winter. Now we had to deal with not only feeling the cold but also looking at the muddy roads, trash, and bare trees. The few trees that are in town that is.

She was in the school library filling out a worksheet for history. The library was busier than usual like it always was in December. November was when students neglected their homework the most and December, the famous month of rest, was when most realized just how behind they were and started rushing to pick up the pace.

Might as well take their time. Everyone her age was always so bored in December. Now that the Trials of Panic were over for the year soon half of her classmates will like cult members without their God. Unknowing of what to do with themselves, sitting around like sad lost puppies on the side of the street. Oddly enough this is around the same time crime rates rise a little. She honestly didn't know why some of these kids didn't get side hobbies and it scared her a little that so many made these games the center of their lives. The other half of her classmates at least were doing things like hanging out, getting part time jobs, trying to find ways to get rich quick, or even training for next year's games.

The boredom of December had not kicked in yet though. The Trials did just ended yesterday and the buzz with this year's win was thick in the air. Thicker than usual as this year was one of the World Trials, it only takes place every four years. A man from Europe won in the adult factor. The first win Europe has taken in seven years. A boy from Asia won in the kids factor.

Getting up, a girl with pitch black hair and eyes so green they looked fake, picked up her gray school bag. She realized she forgot to sign her name on her work. She took up her pencil again and wrote "Ramona" at the top where it said "Name". She put both her work and her pencil into her bag and walked down the row of shelves. She liked to do her homework in the library, it was a much better place to do it then at home, but right now it was too loud.

It was the time to be catching up on homework, but for it to be this crowded on the day right after the Trials was odd. A lot of kids stay up all night long to watch the midnight after party on tv or have their own parties filled with dancing, making out, underage drinking, and cops trying and failing to get everyone to shut up and go home. The day after was usually a mass sleep-in day. It was not like they were all at risk of failing. The one thing she loved about this small crappy town was how laid back the teachers were. They didn't care if you had a few late assignments as long as it didn't turn into a recurring thing.

As she looked for the book she needed she could hear as many yawns as there were chit-chat. She pulled a book from the shelf, a short adventure book she had to write an essay on for English. She checked it out and the old lady behind the deck placed a piece of hard caramel on top of it before sliding it back to her. She always gave candies to people who checked out books. Ramona always took them home and put them in a small jar she kept in one of her desk drawers. She saved them for those dark, sad days and although it was something so little, sometimes those little pieces of candy really helped. That's why she tried to do nice things for others when she could. Little things for you can go miles for someone else. That is what the little old lady taught her with her candies. So even though she was so deaf that she most likely couldn't hear a word of the many conversations going on, she had Ramona's utmost respect.

She was unsure if she was ready to brave the cold so she started walking to the art room, her second go-to spot in the school. She was half way there when she remembered Mr. Rain the art teacher was sick right now and you weren't allowed in classrooms after school without a staff member in there as well. So feeling disappointed, she turned and walked the opposite way to the front of the school. The school didn't have lockers, but they had a small, dimly lit room used as a walk-in closet for students. She found the black trench coat with the clip on name tag that read "Ramona Strong". She took it down, unclipped the tag, and slipped it on over her favorite thick, white sweater.