"Staring at the ceiling isn't going to fix your problems." Joe calls from her desk.

Chloe Allen.

I'm dead.

Why can't anything go right? The world is just screwing with me. Playing a game that I don't remember signing up for. Please, please, please don't pair me up with Jackson. Gets the second worse option.

I'm dead.

Chloe always been looking for ways to hurt me. Whether that was physically or emotionally. Now she has the opportunity to do both. Since I never really gave her a reason to brawl, she's been sitting on the sideline waiting. Waiting for me to do the tiniest thing wrong by her. Waiting to be partnered in some combat training. Waiting for a rematch.

One of the very few rules at Westfield is no fighting without reason. Many have twisted this rule so really it doesn't apply.

Giving someone a dirty look.

Brawl.

Talking to someone without set permission.

Brawl.

Brushing someone's shoulder.

Brawl.

It's gotten so bad that there was an entire school stand off. Although registration three and me hid away from the action. Now they put a tighter hold on all brawls. Basically an authority figure must be present.

I roll over in my bed so I'm looking at Joe. She's scribbling some notes and then typing something in her computer. Scribbling notes then typing.
"You think if I hit my head hard enough against that wall, I'll die." I swing my legs over the bed pushing my hair out my face.
"Possibly but you'll never know until you try. Although poisoning yourself will be much more effective." Joe informs staring intently at her screen.
"Thank you Joe, I'll keep that in mind." I stand from my bed not really sure of my destination. Where do I even begin? Whether I like it or not I'm going to compete against Chloe next week. I have to step into an arena and battle her. Already I can feel my heart beating against my chest. My stomach churning. I let out a deep sigh.

Joe swirls in her chair leaning her elbows on her knees. "Chloe is your opponent, there's nothing you can do to change that." She states throwing her pen onto her desk.
"I know, I know." I hiss folding my arms over my chest.
"Great. Now what you going to do about it?" The room falls into a sharp silence. What am I going to do?
"Strategy." She answers bluntly. She makes it sound so easy. Although with a strategy like hers I can't lose. "What you have in mind?"
"You have a week to perfect a strategy, use the time."
"I don't know where to start." My mind wonders back to Chloe's other Trails. Her opponents broken bones and severed flesh. How can I even beat that?
"Step 1: know your opponent. Collect any data about them. Daily routines. Favoured weapon. Friends and foes." Joe announces gesturing for me to take a seat. "Step 2: predict and counter attack. This is the most important step. You get into the mind of your opponent, you predict and you attack. Exploit weaknesses or any disadvantages and use it to overwhelm them." I nod. Get into the mind of your opponent? Not only is this the most important step but the most challenging. Chloe is unpredictable. She's ruthless and she's out for revenge. The next step, devour. Make her kneel at my feet.
"Step 3: strengthen." I tilt my head to the side and purse my lips. Strengthen?
"You can have a perfect strategy but if you have twigs as weapons you're going to lose. Once you know their weaknesses and formulate a plan, you have to work to overcome your own disadvantages." My own disadvantages? But of course. You can't go all offensive and forget about the defence.

It's brilliant. No wonder Joe is Rank twenty- two. All that typing and note taking. She's getting to know Keira. Her weapon's disadvantages and advantages. Getting into her head. With the perfect strategy and Joe as my guide, I can't lose.
"You're welcome." Joe swirls back so she's facing her notebook.
"Joe you're a genius!" I marvel at her intelligence.
"I know." She continues to type and scribble.
"With you as my right hand man, I can surpass the wretched Chloe and prove my worth to everyone."
"No one said anything about surpassing Chloe."
"This is my chance Joe, this is the time for me to prove everyone wrong." I announce standing from my bed.
"Listen Megan, just stop. You can't w- ."
"Chloe will be kneeling at my overwhelming power, with this perfect strategy I'll - "

"You're not going to win Megan!" Joe bellows out slamming her pen on her desk. The volume breaks my train of thoughts. Her words reach my ears at full throttle, my words disappearing from my mouth. "W- what?" My words are all stuttered and sound weak in the thickness of the room. Joe rubs at her eyes turning to face me. "Just concentrate on staying in one piece, okay."
"What you mean I can't win?" I wish I didn't sound so timid. My voice so weak, a reflection of myself. Joe pauses collecting the right words to say. "The gap between you both is too large Megan. You have a week to not only bridge the gap but surpass someone of rank fourteen." She's right. I'm more than three times below Chloe. She's experienced and I'm not. I know I'm well below her, I'm fully aware of my pathetic rank but I can't just lie down and let her walk all over me.
"You can't win with twigs." Joe whispers turning to meet her screen swallowing the rising lump in her throat. Now I see. You really are a good friend Joe. She cares about me. Although she won't attempt it, I think she's stressing about my Trial more than I am. Facing Chloe will be dangerous and Joe fully understands the odds of me making it out alive.

"Well, say this twig had a really sharp end and it's best friend was a mighty sword. How are my odds then?" I smile placing my hands on my hips. Joe turns to look at me the edges of her mouth threatening to smile along. "I'd say a pretty pathetic one."
"Great. Then we have a chance." The room drops in tension. Heat returning to the dry environment. "I know the chances of winning is slim but the probability of it becoming zero can only happen if we give up." I start making my out the dormitory.
"Where are you going?" Joe questions her eyebrows scrunched. "Don't tell me you're approaching Chloe."
"I'm going to get my weapon to practice. We can think of a strategy when I get back." You can't win. Just another person to prove wrong. You can't win with twigs. Joe will feel like such an idiot after the Trails.

The gym is more crowded than usually which is to be expected but this is especially cramped. Everyone is either doing strength training or practicing with their weapon. To someone like me this is walking into the nest of wasps. They're all sharpening their claws, stretching their legs. Preparing themselves for the hunt ahead and guess what, I'm their prey. Me and all the other lower ranks in the registration. Everyone from twenty down should be worried. Although here they all are, sweat drenched and fighting. Practicing their heart out. It's terrifying to watch. Their stabbing in thin air, it could be me. Their hungry glares and thirsty cries, it could be directed at me.

I take a quick scan around the room making sure Chloe wasn't around. She wasn't. Score for Megan. I step into the gym many students dropping what they're doing to look my way. I felt the need to tip toe or crawl maybe turn myself into a tight nit ball and roll on out but I didn't. Besides if I start running now it will just prove them right. Stand tall. Stand proud. Walk. This was easier said than done. I probably looked as bony and cold as chicken feet. Well I certainly felt like it. I get to the other end of the gym Mr Edwards standing at the storage door. Just get my weapon and leave. In and out. No drama. No fuss. Mr Edwards turns and immediately his face drops at the sight of me. "Weapon." He demands. Not even going to try and pretend to like me.
"Bowie knife." I turn my attention to a group of girls laughing and pointing in my direction. Is this what it is? A lets point out how pathetic Megan is session.
"Bowie knife." He repeats his hand outstretched. I hold out my hand to receive the plastic replica but Mr Edwards drops the knife before I can grab it. He looks me straight in the eyes and drops it. I doubt that was the slip of the fingers. A demonstration of how pathetic Megan is. I'm done. They're going to laugh and point as usually. Mr Edward will give me an empty apology and send me on my way, back into the nest. You can't win. I can. I'm sick of you treating me like I'm nothing. Like I'm worthless. A burden. I might be inexperienced and weak looking but  there is nothing I enjoy more than proving you wrong. All of you are wrong. I'm fast to act bending to reach for the knife. I'm not going to let you fall. I'm not going to prove them right. This utter disrespect will be met with the strength of my determination. Time, my best friend, slows. Frame by frame. All sound drowns out. It's just me, gravity and this knife. Im not going to let you fall. I'm focussed on the handle of the knife, nothing can distract me. Pure concentration. My breathing is hushed and body alert. It's a race against gravity. Although, I'm sure I'll win. I reach down and effortlessly grab the knife. I scoop it up inches before it hits the ground the handle fitting snug in my palm. Time speeds up and sound returns. The sensation of pure control subsides. I stand from my squatting position holding the knife over my shoulder.

My prize. The reason I enjoy what I do. It's the face of utter astonishment. His mouth is hanging open and his arms limp by his side. For a brief second this expression holds but a second is all I need. His face returns to its original grim position but his eyes can't lie. Anger, resentment but deep within a hint of surprise. Maybe he's even impressed. The group of girls laughs fall silent. They talk about me but for once it feels good. "How'd she even do that?" They're amazed. "I didn't even see her move." That's right peasants. Bow down to thy ruler. Should teach you to think so low of me. Mr Edwards ticks my weapon on his clipboard like what he just witnessed didn't happen. Soon the girls will also brush the incident aside and again label me as the pathetic Megan, rank sixty-two. No matter, I got what I came for.

"Anything else you wanted?" Blunt. Anger, resentment, disgust. Yeah maybe I want you to be a decent human being and maybe just stop glaring at me from time to time. Maybe if you weren't being such an asshole I'll probably enjoy your pathetic excuse of a class. Saying this isn't going to help anything. Although it would be nice to let him know but my body isn't equipped to handle 10km runs every second of everyday. The only way to deal with these people is to attack them with the one thing that irritates them most. The one weapon I have that is effective enough in keeping the hyenas at bay.

Kindness.

Kindness, the poison in the darkness. Instead of being intimidating and throwing harsh words, kindness has the same effect only I don't end up looking like a mouldy bashed up apple. It's like pouring salt on a snail, first it's confused then burns and then dies in agony. Well that's the idea anyway. "No, that will be all, Thank you Sir. See you tomorrow." I beam smiling as I make my way to the exit. He grits his teeth trying hard to contain his resentment towards me. Salt on a snail. Killing them slowly.

"You think he seen her yet?" Someone whispers behind me. Everyone turns either whispering, laughing or pointing. This is why I hate outside. "You saw what happened -" I slow down, tuning my ears into their conversation. "I swear he was going to snap, break her spine in two." The cafeteria. I turn to the left Jackson in the corner practicing his attacking knife skills. I almost forgot about the whole incident. How could I forget? The mousse. His shirt. Why am I even still alive? I didn't even apologise. I should've offered to clean his shirt at least. I stop in my tracks about to make the worst decision in my life. I turn and shimmy my way through the crowd. I'm stupid. He let me go unharmed once, twice is begging for a miracle. I'm an idiot. Why am I even approaching him? He probably forgot about the whole thing and now I'm giving him a reminder. Although it wasn't right for to just walk away. I just stood there all frozen. I should at least apologise for his ruined shirt. Apologise and leave. He can't hurt me now. The incident passed and Mr Edwards is too busy to supervise the brawl. It's going to fine. A quick in and out. People shuffle out my way, some moving in for the action. Sorry to disappoint fellow classmates but unless you find interest in sincere apologies this next conversation is going to be a bit of a bore.

He was even more terrifying up close. His mere presence reeked of danger. Everything about him screamed death. Apologise. I step in closer so my presence was known. Into the den of the beast. He turns and in one swift motion slips his knife in the back of his pants. Apologise. Everyone was looking on, waiting for something to happen. I clasp my knife in both hands, holding it close to my chest. Like this will protect me. He grabs his white polo shirt wiping the sweat off his face. A few girls whispered excitedly at the glimpse of rippling muscles and velvety skin. A quick in and out. Just say it and leave. "Um, I'm s- sorry." Great start Megan. He pulls his shirt down his face scrunched in confusion. Oh. He actually forgot about the whole incident. Such an insignificant moment in his life.
"What?" Even though I'm at a safe distance I'm still far to close. In and out. Explain yourself and leave. "About earlier, I just came to say sorry. I don't remember apologising before." I hated how my voice sounded so timid and soft but if anything it sounded sincere. "Hopefully your shirt hasn't stained." I try to smile but my face isn't responding. Okay, now accept it so I can leave. The silence hangs between us for far too long. He just looks at me with a neutral expression. His eyes are dead and cold.
"What she doing?" Someone whispers but we all could here him. "Shut up. I think she's apologising." His friend hisses back. These people can't even mind their own business. Jackson head spins around scanning the entire room. He silences them all with just a look. Everyone scrambles to what they were doing knowing Jackson didn't like them listening in.

"An apology." He laughs a humourless laugh. "I don't want your apology nor do I need it." He snaps. He wasn't that much taller than me but he made me feel so small. The way he looked down on me. On everyone. What do you even say to a comment like that. Oh sorry, I won't apologise anymore.
"Now are you going to tell me the real reason you're here?"
"The real reason?" I start rocking on my feet, I was like a cat on hot bricks. He takes a step closer his long stride reaching me easily. I resist the urge to step back. He places his hands in his pocket and leans down to look me directly in my eyes. I'm already sweating and my nerves are frayed.
"Maybe I should just beat it out of you." He doesn't hesitate. He swings his fist towards my face at full speed. I jump back barely dodging the attack. They weren't kidding about his short temper and radical behaviour.

"You are pathetic." He says with finality. I almost didn't recognise his voice. It's laced with coldness and hate. "You're a leech. A worthless parasite that feeds on those that are strong." His words pierce my heart. Clawing at it. Ripping into it like a savage dog would a steak. My chest pains. Ever since I came here I've been thrown with insults but never have they hurt as much as they did right now. He says it with such conviction and resentment. The sort of hate that only murderers receive. He steps forward swinging his arm with hate fuelled power. I step to the side missing the attack by inches. I drop my knife the weapon sliding metres away. He doesn't give me time to recover. He kicks aiming for my knees, his muscles tensing as he does. I dance around the attack, already I'm at my limit. So pitiful. My muscles hurt and chest strained with every breath. I look over at Mr Edwards. He needs to break this up. It's against the rules. I didn't do anything wrong.

He just stares on like the rest of them. He even occasionally laughs with them when I nearly trip trying to dodge for my life. He's not going to help me. Like usual I'm on my own. Jackson gets faster as I get slower. The punches are more aggressive and he doesn't give me a chance to fight back. There is no chance to fight back or even win. Left, right, left. Every attack is a close call. Sweat has accumulated on my forehead and my muscles prayed for a rest.
"What's wrong Megan, tired already." So arrogant and egotistical. Public shaming, this is all it is. It's my fault for thinking I could approach him and have a civil conversation. He punches again and I stumble back dancing around the floor. He leans for the next attack but it's far too forward. This is my chance. He's off balance. I put all my effort into this one step. I lunge forward squeezing my fist so tight my nails are digging into my skin. I aim for the jaw my entire body focussed for this one attack. He's too swift for it, though. He gains his balance effortlessly, seeming to be moving even faster. He rocks back like a boxer and let's my arm slide in front of him. Simultaneously my insides contracts. My one shot. I ruined it. He twists his hips preparing for a counter attack. I can't get out of this one. A sonic punch to the face. He twists his torso his fist making its way to my face. I'm falling into it. It can't be helped. Can't believe I even thought I could come out of this unharmed. It's pathetic. I can't even defend myself. You can't win. I know I can't and yet every single time I try and try again. I keep lying to myself. I'm weak and I hate it. You can't win with twigs. His fist was only inches away, about to collide. Everyone in the room has silenced to a whisper. Public humiliation. In this punch lies my shame. My dignity and proof of my weakness. Public execution. Having to carry myself out the gym in the chorus of mockery, being soaked in blood from a broken nose.

You think you're worth something? No.

I'm just fooling myself.

You think they're wrong about you? No.

They're right.

To my surprise he doesn't beat me to a pulp. At the very last second he lowers his fist and grabs my shirt pulling me in close. He's so close in fact I can see the dust particles on his eyelashes. Everyone observing is holding their breath myself included. "It seems you do have some form of skill." He congratulated me. Praising me? It's surprising to say the least. People grumble and hiss at fact they couldn't hear what we were talking about. Was this a test? My insides still aches and chest still screamed in pain from his destructive words but the compliment was true. Although his voice was cold, his eyes has soften and there was no hint of sarcasm or deceit. He pushes me out of his hold letting go of my shirt. My eyes grow wide and legs freeze. He drops to the floor picking up my training knife.

"You think you're worth somethin'?" He extends the knife towards me and waits for me to grab the handle.

"Prove it."

Hey people, thanks for sticking around. I know I didn't update for awhile so this chapter is extra long. Let me know what you think so far and if you enjoy it don't forget to punch that vote button in the face.

Unicorn out.