Born to die, Chloe Brown [beach read .txt] 📗

It was always meant to be. It was my destiny, my fate. Why is it that I, of all people was born to die?
“Miss Scarlet, sorry but you've been assigned to move to unit 52,”The officer told me. She was tall, with brown hair and a stern look on her face. She was a high ranked 5th Junior officer, as I could see from her badge.
“May I ask why I am to move?” I asked. I already knew the answer.
“You were designated to Unit 52 because Unit 38 is thought to be targeted by the enemy, which means you are no longer safe,” She told me, she didn't look me in the eyes, she just held a tight grasp of my arm, as we walked down an empty corridor.
“Here is your Unit, Miss Scarlet,” She gave me a gentle shove and pushed me into a bleak grey room.
“Thank you, much appreciated.” I said bowing my head to them, as they shut the door. I do not appreciate being locked up I thought as they I heard the bolt on my door slam.
You see I am a tool. A weapon. I was born to kill. I was born to die. That day is soon to come. The foretold prophecy of our tribe is that when the 1st daughter of Isobel and Jacob is born, on her 16th birthday she is to defeat the opposing tribe and then to be sacrificed by her own tribe.
I tied my hair up in a scarlet ribbon. My mom gave me the ribbon when I was 6. She told me ten years from now I would be fighting to save my tribe, as it is foretold in the Book Of Ridlen. My father told me I should be proud. He told me I would be a legend.
2 weeks later...
“Scarlet, happy birthday,” My father said to me. I was stood up straight in the corner staring straight past him at my mom. Her eyes were red and sore. She’d obviously been crying for days, no matter how much I wanted to tell her it’s ok and comfort her, I didn’t. I stared at her cold heartedly, because to show emotion is a weakness, and I have been told having a weakness is a sin.
“Come, Scarlet, your battle clothes have been prepared for you.”
I walked in the dressing quarters and swallowed as I stared at the clothes they had made for me. I had to wear a short black top showing off my dark skin and black shorts. After I had been helped change they escorted me out to the main gates. Everyone was gathered there cheering. I was handed my weapon, a gold knife, nothing more and walked out to battle.
Blood, everywhere I could looked, I saw scarlet. I stabbed people, slicing away, showing no mercy. Officers dropped down beside me, dying. I bet you think I don’t feel guilty. Well trust me I feel guilt. I’ve always felt it. During training I feel guilt knowing I going to be brutally murdering many innocent people who are trying to protect their tribe.
The fight was over extremely quick. I don’t see why I was much more talented than them. Yes I had fought bears and killed wild animals, but they've been fighting all their lives yet they can’t kill like I can. I guess its god. I guess he really did want me to kill the opposing tribe and then want me to die.
While I was changing into my ball gown, I felt nervous. We were going to have a banquet and I was going to dance with the prince of other tribe who were fighting alongside us. Then I was going to be burnt- alive. I’m guessing the pain is excruciating, as I have seen so many people being executed like this while screaming as they slowly burn to death.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I had my long dark brown hair resting over my shoulders. My dress was long green with emerald gems, contrasting against my dark skin.
“Hello, Miss Scarlet? May I assist you to the ballroom?” A young man with chocolate coloured hair and light tanned skin stood by the door. He was dressed in a black suit, with a green tie that matched my dress.
“Yes, that would be much appreciated.” And this time, I was appreciative, no sarcastic comments made. He linked his arm through mine and we walked down the corridor. Suddenly he stopped and looked at me, smiling.
“What?!” I asked.
“You’re not the only one born to die,” He told me. My heart skipped a beat and my palms started to sweat.
“You mean… you? You have to die too?” I murmured.
“I never knew about you today until my father told me,” He said smiling at me.
“So may I ask why you are smiling at me?” I asked. Does he like the idea of dying?
“Well I have an idea. Waltz with me, towards the door, and run,” He said smiling.
“What run as in run away?” I asked gasping. I had never thought of that.
“Yes,” He unlinked our arms and held my hand instead. My heart started beating, fast, as we entered the room.
Everyone gasped and clapped and we danced our first dances and got ready. To waltz. To run.
“We’re getting near the door. When I say run, make sure you run, ok?” He told me. I nodded.
“Run!” he shouted. Suddenly rifles started firing and we ran. Ran, for our lives. Literally. We ran through the fields, branches snagging out clothes and pulling our hair. When we finally lost sight of everyone we stopped and smiled at each other.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Kye.” And with that he lent in and kissed me.

Publication Date: 11-14-2012

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