I'm thrown into a room with metal floors, beds,and toilets. I feel like I am in a jail cell. Are they now throwing people in the woods into jail? I try to talk but no words come out, I am literally unable to talk. I try to open the cell doors, but I notice my hands are tied together. I keep mouthing the words "help!" but they won't project to where anyone could hear them. I'm stuck in this cage, alone, frightened, and hungry. I keep struggling to break free, but that only makes me tired. Instead of more fighting, I just give up, let my head lay on the cell bars, as I fall asleep.
"Get up punk! and get dressed in this." a man says as he throws clothing in my face. I put on the white tank top, with a black leather jacket, and black pants, with some black high heels. Jail people don't wear these clothing, then why am- oh sh•t, I'm in the Èuphone. After I put on the new clothing, I walk with the guards, to the dictator, for a rate of my chances of survival.
I line up in a line with 29 other people, I'm 3rd for the interview. I decide to take my hair out if it's ponytail, and let it fly loose in its long big puff of hair. As I walk on, roars of cheers erupt as I walk in as model like as possible. I sit down in the interview seat next to the dictator. Dictator Reveille flashes me a perverted grin, and I punch his arm. Then his expression changes to stern.
"So, what is your name, group, and age?" Dictator Reveille asks "Genevieve, four, and I am 16." I answer. he nods his head and continues "so what are your hobbies?" he asks "art, singing, hunting,-" he cuts me off "What type of hunting do you do? guns, knifes, etc.?" I answer with "Bow and arrow." and smile smugly "well then, I guess since you can sing, would you sing me-uh us, a song?" He asks, since I would be punished for rejecting, I sang a soft song, full of meaning and delicacy and the crowd roars with claps and cheers. He smiles. "well that was wonderful, but time for serious talk." I nod and gulp scared-ly. I know now it's time for out rate on chance of survival. "You seem delicate, out of 30, I'd say you'd be one of the first 10... Dead, that is, first 10 dead." he says. my eyes go wide, and it feels like and anchor has dropped in my chest. Top ten dead? "you are dismissed Genevieve." he says waving his hands away to the exit. I put on a calm face and strut off. As a guard takes me back to my cell, I burst into tears. His expression seems caring and he pats my back. Then he whispers "I'm sorry" as he literally throws me into my cell. I slowly crawl over to my metal bed and cry with my head up against the cell. Then I hear a voice in the cell next to me say "it's gonna be okay miss, just wait, you'll be the winner."and that makes me smile. "Thank you sir, what's your name?" I ask "Devin." he replies with. "you?" he asks "I'm Genevieve." and he replies astonished with "really? my god you're amazing, it's an honor to be the cell next to you!" he yells as I picture him fake bow.
"Well I'm going to sleep." Devin says. I think of Granny. Oh Sh•t, Granny. She's probably freaking out right now, knowing I'm missing. unless she saw me on tv tonight, but the only time we are able to get tv, is when the Èuphone comes on every 4 years, and the capitol area turns our tv on by itself, so she must have seen me. I start to yawn as feel like going to sleep, but I first want to see what I'll be living in and around.
I look in the cell in front of me and see a boy sleeping, he has blonde- no dirt blonde hair, and a deeply defined jawline. Then I fall into a deep sleep.