20 Luke
My left arm was on the table. My right arm hung by my side, a knife in my hand. I take the knife, and stab it into my leg. I scream. A needle is put into my left arm. My screams get louder. The injection starts. A green mixture is pumped into my arm. I try not to look. I take the knife and twist it in my leg. The pain so overwhelming, I pass out.
When I wake up, the needle was still in my arm, the knife in my thigh, and my throat hurt from screaming so much. I take out the knife, trying not to think about the pain. Then, I slowly take out the needle. Drinking a glass of water, I look around. It was no longer daytime.
“Hello?” Someone says as they walk in. “Anyone here?”
“Yes.” I say, and they jump back.
“You scared me!” The girl sees my equipment: a rusty knife, an old needle, a now empty bottle. She screams. I bet I didn't look too good either. I hadn't cut my black hair in moths. I am sure that I have marks under my green eyes from not sleeping. Than there was my scars. Cuts all over my pale body. Some open, others healing. I am covered in blood. I sigh.
“I guess this looks bad. I guess I look bad.” I say and she nods.
“Umm, you, uh, you live here?” She says.
“No. My sister did, before she died.” I say.
“So, now you, umm, kill people in here?”
“What? No! No, I do not kill people. God, sorry. I see how you could think that. No, I, uh, work here.” I say.
“What kind of work do you do? Kill people?” She says.
“No! Ugh. I-I don't know. I mean, I know. I just can't tell you.”
“Right, umm, names? What's your name?” I thought for a moment. It has been so long, I couldn't remember my name.
“It's-it's Luke. My name is Luke.”
“I'm Alice.” She moved closer to me, slowly. Alice put out her hand to shake mine. My hand was bloody, and shaking, but I shook her hand.
“Umm, why are you here?” I ask.
“Oh, I was, uh, looking for you.” I laughed, then I relies that she was telling the truth.
“Really? You're kindling, right?” She shook her head.
“Luke, 329. Rightful ruler of the contest.” She says.
“I'm not the rightful ruler of anything.” I say.
“Your sister dead, you are next in line.”
“Yeah, well, I don't want to be in, or near the contest again. Let alone, rule it.” I say.
“Luke, your friends need you.” She says.
“What friends? I don't have any.”
“What about Clare.” I freeze.
“I-I don't know who you're talking about. I have never met a Clare.” I turn away from Alice.
“Oh, well, she said she misses Luke. She must have been thinking of some other Luke.” I tighten up. If she has found Clare…
“If you touch her, I will kill you,” I say gripping my knife. Alice puts her hand on my shoulder. I grab it, and twist her arm. I put my rusty knife to her neck.
“And don't touch me either.”
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