Losing My Last
- sparkofindent
- Feb 25
- 17 min read
By: Anonymous Submission
A Hunger Games inspired dystopian story about a girl who goes through the trials of a game. A very short story that doesn't have a happy ending. #shortstory #fiction #dystopian
The First Round
The rain patted on my hair, with tears prompting the coldest of my future. The television back at home showed me people taking part in the game, watching them suffer as they disappeared bit by bit. Day after day. It was my turn.
The engine roared, and it drove away as it reached the bus stop. A smile spread across my face. The thought of my father always there for me discarded my doubts. They invited us at the same time. But apparently, that meant leaving my mother, and possibly never returning.
“You can do this, Sonya. I believe in you. Just know that I might not be by your side for too long, and you’ll have to overcome every obstacle yourself.” My father nodded.
“We’re lucky that we’re here at the same time.” I grinned, but knowing it was only a matter of time before we would rest in peace with the other participants.
Only one can survive the game, the old saying spread from a memory.
“Here you go. Here’s your entry card.” My father gave me a green plastic card, carved with the information for participant entries.
“Thanks, Dad.” I waved to him and entered the automatic glass door.
The heavy duffle shook on my shoulder as I tried to balance the items in it that reminded me of home. Flashbacks from the past panicked as I remembered my cousins, uncle, aunt, grandparents, and the rest of my family died from the game. And there I stood, trying to follow in their footsteps and accomplish something not a single person had done in the family.
“Name?” an old lady wearing a gray wig spoke without releasing her sight from her screen.
“Um, Sonya Ledger. Fourteen. Taking part in the Dazik East Game. Here’s the card.” I put the green card on the black box. She took it and gestured for me to leave.
My feet guided me into the elevator, along with a man wearing a thick black coat and a young middle-aged woman wearing a red jacket. The floor shuttered, my breaths unsteady. Anxiety took over me faster than the moving elevator.
The doors flew apart, and I escaped from the lift. Wandering through the dark hallway, trying to find the room that I needed before the game began. A sigh left my mouth, a glance rested on the floor. Hands laid on the heavy metal door, then pushed it open. My heart pounded in what waited on the other side.
My eyes analyzed the meeting room, pondering the locations for myself. I settled down on a chair next to a dark-haired boy my age, his amber eyes staring at me with confusion.
“Sonya!” a voice whispered beside my right.
My head turned, and a curious glimpse flashed at the girl who sat beside me. She waved with a smile as if she found her long-lost friend. Her left hand clenched on her backpack, which I assumed she forgot to put on her shelf. Her familiar dirty blonde hair sat on her shoulder as a loose braid, eyes of blue glistened with happiness.
“Oh! June! We thought you moved out. I missed you.” I exclaimed. Both of us awkwardly hugged with slight joy.
“Why are you here?” June questioned.
“I was forced. Lots of people are.” I sighed.
“Well, I was too. But the prize money is lots, so I guess it’s worth it.” June glanced down at the back.
Someone from the front row shushed us, and the rest quieted down. I whisked notice of my surroundings as my hands fell numb from not moving.
The room lacked windows in sight, gray painted walls with signs of corrosion. I could hardly hear any rain from outside of the building. The abstract painting on the wall showed indications of warning for my potential death. I got more and more uptight.
After our brief meal of biscuits and drinks, a lady guided us into an empty room, where they gave us glasses for the contest to begin. Strangers from the other rooms came forward. Each age group had 6 people. Numbers spun in my brain and there were 24 participants in total. How was I supposed to win?
We all sat down in front of a white, dull table. Red switches and touchpads sat on the table in front of each contestant. More people arrived in the room and the walls lit up. They handed us each a poisoned bracelet, which we used for the task.
“You may begin.” A woman’s robotic voice echoed in the massive area.
All of us in the room placed the glasses on the smooth counter in front of our faces, and for a sudden moment, black surrounded me. My fingers set on the remote to control which options to choose, and I pressed the option to start the wheel for my fate.
My fingers crossed as I hoped to not get the curse, which meant killing everyone, or else dying myself in the end. And the tragedy of killing my father. I couldn’t bear to have the idea mixing in my mind. The mysterious poisoning switch sat in front of the countering force.
Luckily, fate went to my side.
A few minutes passed, and we traveled around the screen like we normally do at home. I entered the account and found a picture of my family. My heart warmed, hoping for my father’s survival in the first round.
“You may take off the contacts.” A bell chimed.
Collective groups of gasps spread through the room as I took off the black lens. My teeth bit my bottom lips and looked around the white walls. Untouched marks splattered on most people’s switches. But someone touched theirs.
A blonde lady across from me laid lifelessly on her chair, blood painted on her white t-shirt. I shared a look with June, who stopped breathing. The screen showed the ones who rested in peace without a noise of death.
The fainting spell nearly overtook me.
A large X marked on my stepfather’s photo.
The crowd left the room and placed the contacts back on the table. The tears in my eyes grew larger at the sight of my father’s dead body covered in poison and blood, resting on the carrier in the cell compartment. My lips trembled, teeth closed, legs almost collapsed.
“Who do you think it was?” June wasn’t one to talk, but I kept quiet from sobbing. We all walked back to our meeting room, still staring down at the ground.
“I don’t know.” The boy who sat next to me mumbled. “You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” I wept a little, crossing my arms on the cold table.
“Hey, what’s your name?” June asked.
“Devon Sanders. You?” the boy affirmed.
“Uh, June Collins. This is my friend, Sonya Ledger.” They shook hands.
I couldn’t help but share a smile.
The Second Round
The first day passed quicker than time could ever, and I wished the second day to get better somehow. The morning meeting stretched to breakfast.
“Who do you think has the curse?” I glanced between them.
“I think it’s that weird guy that acts all creepy.” June whispered.
“You guys are just guessing. It can’t be that obvious.” Devon hesitated.
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” June replied, “But seriously, this is about life or death. Yesterday, no one voted anyone out because it was just the first round. Today’s the second. It’s best to guess who it is.”
“Sure, but the ones who get voted out will get poisoned as well if they have the curse. No matter what, they’re still counted as innocent.” I grieved about my stepfather, but to this generation, we could do nothing to stop them from forcing us to go to the game.
“By the way, how many people have the virtual curse again?” Devon wondered.
“The contract said four. I think one of them is in this room.” June swallowed, showing nervousness.
“Might be in the other age groups.” I reassured her.
I studied my sandwich that I picked from the food tray, wondering if the impossible could ever happen. I finally took the sandwich off the plate, preserving my energy for the next round as the lady who organized the teenage group told us.
“What’s this whole Dazik East Game for, anyway? All I know is that it’s a murder mystery thing, and we’re just like walking into our death.” Devon mumbled to himself.
“My dad said that it’s the way for the government to reduce the populations of the town people. I mean like, sure, it works, but it’s all bloody and just…no thank you.” I put down the sandwich again.
“Wait, I thought your parents divorced a long, long time ago.” June gave me a blank expression.
“No, my mom remarried another guy, who’s my stepdad.” I looked down, remembering the sorrows that overtook my mother after my real father left, now facing yet another departure.
“What? What’s wrong?” Devon lifted an eyebrow.
“Um, are you sure you want to listen to this?” I sighed with my eyes burning.
June shrugged, while Devon didn’t say a word.
I shivered. “So, my dad also took part in the game with me.”
“Wait really? Oh, where is he?” June placed her hand under her chin.
“He…” I swallowed. “You guys remember those two people who died yesterday?”
“Oh No!” June gasped, “I’m so sorry, Sonya.”
The sounds of bells rang, and the time for the second round came.
About five years ago, before June moved to another foster home. She told me she only wished for a family. No one stood by her side when terrible things came, but only luck stood by during the time at the game.
It was only a matter of time before I got poisoned or got called upon, along with the others in the game. I wanted to win and avenge my father, but teenage girls like me never stood chances. Only the last champion could survive the rounds.
I had to help my father find out who killed him. I had to find out who held the curse to poison him. To take one of the few things that matter to me out of my reach. Sadness covered my brain as my family could never complete back together, but helping my father seemed like the last thing to improve.
I shifted the tainted bracelet off my left wrist, but it didn’t budge. The rubber tightened on my hand even more than I fiddled with it. I couldn’t see anything outside the screened glasses, but I couldn’t believe when a small wristband around my hand could become the key to murder. Even though the poisoned bracelet looked as delicate as glass, like the switch.
Nothing could transform back to how it started. It hurts for it to never heal.
Chills patted on my back, I sensed the circle we sat around, all trying to figure out who hid the obscure curse. The betrayals of deaths spread to my ears. People tapping on touchpads, but somehow more clicking on the poison button.
“You may take off the contacts.” The alarming computerized voice boomed from an unknown speaker.
“End of round two.” June’s lips trembled.
I drew my stare to the victims on the screen: a black-haired and white streaked woman, a middle-aged man with a goatee, and a blonde teenage boy from our group.
We all followed the guiding lady back to the spot where we discussed our suspicions. The door creaked open, and we poured inside like something troubling trailed behind. The front line sank first in their seats, and a quiet cry from a ginger-haired girl sitting ahead of me reached my ears.
“I can’t believe it…I can’t believe that…that Ryder is…gone…forever.” the girl buried her face into her crossed arms on the wooden table.
In the silent front row, an empty seat sat there. Five more left of us in the age group, and nineteen of us left in the game. I pulled on my hair, my face descending to the table.
“What are you looking at?” the girl glared at Devon, whose body trembled like the sight of a ghost. And through time, the colors on his face flow out.
“You think he’s guilty, Adley?” the black-haired boy sitting next to her grimaced.
“Hey, stop it! How can you accuse him? How do you know?” I ranted.
“Yeah! Just stop! We can’t just jump to conclusions!” June frowned.
“Oh, so you two are also in on this thing. Are you the murderer?” Adley pointed her finger at her. June looked taken aback anxiously, backing away in jerky steps.
The guiding lady sounded the bell to shush us, then gestured us to go up the front and put the papers in the glass bowl.
My head turned to Devon. He sat back down in his chair, squirming. I passed him a suspecting look, which he shrugged off without hesitation. My doubts got the best of me, and thoughts stirred in my mind. What if Adley was right? What if he was the murderer?
Everyone went back to the main room, and I stayed behind to talk to Devon. Whose face paled white as time went on.
“You okay?” I asked. “What’s wrong? You’re shaking! Is something wrong? Do I need to call someone or something?”
“You’re gonna accuse me, too, Sonya? Seriously?” Devon suddenly gave me a hatred scowl.
“What? Of course not. Look, I’m nervous too! I’m worried I'll lose everything forever, like my father got poisoned. And I don’t know what to do, Devon! No one knows!” As the words escaped my mouth, I caught a glance at him and he flinched.
Devon’s silent face gave it all out, and my suspicions rose. My eyes widened as I stared at him in shock, my brain stirred, mistrusting Devon to the thought of him poisoning my father. Anger swelled, but as slow as it could take me.
“No! I didn’t! Why does everyone keep accusing me! All my life, people think I’m a traitor! But I’m not! I didn’t kill your dad!” Devon’s voice cracked.
How did he know what I wanted to say?
The Third Round
I voted skip because I thought he didn’t show any guilty signs, but the next day, after an entire night, that kept me awake. Accusing my friend who went through so much seemed wrong, but if he poisoned my stepfather, I needed more answers.
I walked up front to get cookies and milk for the after snack and sat between June and Devon. He turned to look at the gray wall and not face us. June looked around the room, not taking even a bite out of the cookie. She held back something to say, her mouth trembling again.
Soon, the third round ended and my eyes grew wider in surprise in myself that I went so far from home, and so far from where I came. Before long, Adley got herself poisoned and my doubts if Devon’s truth hid more sprinkled in my mentality. Killing Adley made sense because she accused him the day before, but the right choice fogged.
“Devon! Look, if you have anything, just say it! I’m your friend, and if you keep doing this, it’ll just give chances to be dubious!” I cautioned, but his lips closed in a scowl.
“Please write your vote on the paper in front, like yesterday. And you can only vote skip two times. So if you had voted to skip yesterday and the day before, you may not skip.”
“What? Where did that rule come from?” I whispered.
“I told you so! We just got to vote for someone to kick out.” June quavered.
My vision landed on the boy called Noah, who also accused Devon yesterday. But my mind still shifted if voting for him could help us discover the cursed one. The people in the other age groups mixed in my mind, but I hardly associated with them to suspect their actions.
I glanced at Devon, whose eyes rested on the gray surface. His face spun to confront me. Bulging red eyes and amber irises that grew dimmer than night. My lips pursed, frightened by what words he wanted to spit at me. But the only choice rose in front of me like a tall tree, deciding if chopping it could help.
Devon Sanders, Participant 4
My feet reached towards the front stage. My throat swallowed a sigh. The white sheet of paper folded in half and landed in the glass bowl. As if time froze when the piece of paper landed inside.
I returned to my seat, looking at Devon with guilt. His eyes darted arrows. My body shrank back in my seat. Why did Devon have to kill my father? Why did things collapse in the middle, as if descending into the end could benefit the problem? What had the game done to me?
The lady called for us to follow her to the voting cubicle, where they eliminated the ones who had the most votes. I grabbed my other hand to not shake too much. My eyes went down to the ground, where footsteps cautioned.
Workers dumped white pieces of paper into the machine where they analyzed our results and then conducted who would get eliminated. My heart throbbed, feelings mixed up in my head. The ground moved up and down as if an earthquake came, but no one said anything.
I sat down beside June, who glanced at the agitated Devon, shivering. She looked at me with confusion, then mouthed to ask if I voted for him.
My eyes settled on the concrete floor, and that was all I had to do.
The screen shined, and the workers gathered our attention to concentrate on disqualifying the ones having the most votes. My fingers clashed together, praying to not eliminate Devon. But luck never listens.
“The most votes are Devon Sanders and Tanya Bray.” the identical automatic voice said.
My eyes followed June’s and onto the screen. Devon's and Tanya’s names and photos appeared above for us to look at.
“Tanya Bray, Participant 15 is not the murderer.” Sighs and reliefs circulated the room, but others pressed their lips tight, disappointed they didn’t eliminate the real one with the curse.
I smiled to myself, my doubts resting. They wouldn’t poison Devon if he wasn’t the one with the virtual curse.
“Devon Sander, Participant 4 is the murderer.”
“Wait, what?” I whispered to June, who bit her lips.
“He has the curse!” Noah choked. “I thought Adley was just kidding!”
Devon covered his head with his hand, his eyes in tears. My stomach dropped, my mouth fell open. That implied the truth. He poisoned my stepfather.
They took him away. He tried to kick himself out of grasp, but failed with desperate misery. Devon screamed, but like warnings to me, the truth heaved even more.
Eyes landed on the screen, but all that showed was Ryder Jones, who died in Round 2. The workers pressed the button to the tab where all that Devon poisoned showed, but Ryder was the only one.
“He’s the killer.” I stared. But he didn’t kill my stepfather. Someone else did.
June’s whole body shook, white knuckles gripping on the chair, skin shivering like all of us ghosting her.
“You okay?” I put a hand on her shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m just nervous for the next round tomorrow.”
“Me too.”
“Do you think you’ll win?” June shuddered.
“Definitely not.” I breathed a small laugh. “I’m worried about Devon, though. What’re they going to do to him?”
We passed the cell compartment, and my eyes ached from not trying to cry. A piercing scream pricked my ears, and sounded as if the beginning of the poison process had started. My eyes welled up with small drops of tears.
“Did you vote for him?”
I sighed. “I thought he was the one who killed my stepfather.”
“Listen, Sonya, we’re all tired. I really want to stop this, because I want to live. But I’m already in ruins, and winning is the only thing that can help my life.” She mumbled.
“By losing everything? Everyone you love?” I cried.
“No! There’s no one left for me to care about! Every day, I wish for a loving family, but no one comes. My life was never once great.” June swore.
“Look, I’m sorry. We didn’t understand how much you’ve been through.” I shifted my feet.
“I can’t believe that you would do such a thing to Devon, even though he’s been by our side since we met! He didn’t kill your dad! He never knew him! I never knew him! You can’t expect everyone to think you are so important!” The red in June's face spread.
“I’m sorry, June. I-I didn’t understand. My dad told me this whole game was worth it, but it isn’t at all.” I sniffled.
“I’m sorry too, Sonya. But I have to leave. I’m sorry. You’ll only make this worse for me.” June left for her bedroom, leaving me standing in front of the cell all alone.
What should I do?
The Last Round
I fidgeted my poisoned bracelet around my wrist, in awe of my long survival of the game. Who knows how long we got to stay. But I survived day three, and for the first time, the heavy weight on my shoulders softened.
Reminders still echoed in my brain. June said she came to do it for a cause. And I felt guilty that I hadn't considered how much pain she endured. And she ignored me like Devon did when I betrayed both of them.
“You may begin.”
I sat there in silence, not knowing what to do with that round. No one moved any of the switches in front of them, only the clicks to the touchpad. I moved my contacts so that I could see clearly inside the screen.
The silence continued, and I blinked to stare at a photo of myself and my mother about 7 years ago, before she met my stepdad. Suddenly, a noise from nearby approached, and the sound of someone laying on their seat echoed.
This wasn’t worth it, it was only for entertainment. Why would people want to die so that we can help our planet to be in a better environment? Sure, it works, but it isn’t the way.
Tears left my eyes, soaking the screened glasses. The people I loved were all going to perish along with me. They line everything up in order. After killing us, they were heading towards the rest .
They blamed us for it. And look at what the truth revealed.
Memories traveled back and forth, over and over, what June said the day before.
“I have to leave. I’m sorry. You’ll only make this worse for me.” The reminders swept up.
June always wanted to win the Dazik East Game. In a building where people go in and never come out ever again. She wanted the prize money; she wanted to have the life of her dreams. June didn’t want me to become the obstacle, because I blocked her way every time.
She came to this world as the person who endured the most. Her name was June Collins, who survived her childhood without an actual family. No one could comprehend her, so she moved from a foster home to another.
The game destroyed my family that I once loved so much. I regret my choices every day, but nothing could compare to hers.
Then it hit me hard. And I stared at myself, not believing myself to think like that, because the truth stood in front of me all this time. June killed my stepfather. She bore the curse, and she sought to win the game.
That explained why she became so guilty when I told them about my stepfather. It explained why she looked so taken aback when Adley accused her and Devon that they poisoned Ryder.
The ones who have the curse always know the others who do too. She knew all along that Devon hid the curse as well.
But if she had to kill almost everyone, she had to poison me with the switch.
It was hard to feel anything during the game, watching people dying and suffering. Always worried if exhaustion could ever reach me. Worried if it’ll ever end, because I just wanted it to finish once and for all.
“We’re all tired. I really want to stop this, because I want to live. But I’m already in ruins, and winning is the only thing that can help my life.” The words vibrated in my heart.
I didn’t want to feel the same way when it ended, but I didn’t have the power to experience the edge because poison could sweep up at any moment. Seeing my life wasted in a silly game.
The bracelet on my left wrist tightened, then the slight click of the crimson switch stabbed me. I didn't associate red with poison. But the scarlet bracelet stabbed my veins, blood dripping to the floor.
I wasn’t sure if the others in the room could hear me, and I screamed on the inside. My breath paced, heartbeats pounded, but slowed down instantly as the poison reached my consciousness. My stomach dropped to earth, but back up again to space.
I took off the contacts to see the light for the last time, even though it meant getting disqualified. I didn’t care. My head throbbed, hands trembling in pain, eyes blinking longer than usual. My mouth remained closed even though I wanted to wail. The poison was eating me alive.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and colors drifted out of my face. The white walls in the vast room turned deep green. A wave of nauseous drifted to my mentality, and my consciousness almost left my soul completely. I laid on the back of my chair without a move, my final life force falling down into a hole.
“You may take off your contacts.” the same robotic female voice spoke, but as though through a fog.
My last breath slipped away, whispering goodbyes to my mother, who wondered every day if her daughter survived the game. My whole life flashed before my eyes. Colors drifted across, but I didn't have the energy to reach them for the first time. The place blurred, and my eyes closed. I rested my hands on the chair.
Wishes of safety drowned my mind, and the lingering guilt descended at the thought of June Collins, who killed me. I reassured myself that everything was going to be fine.
I only survived till Round 4, but I, kept smiling to remain strong, losing my last.
Fin
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