Reaping

A Chapter by LukeyBear

1
I nervously look around. I could be killing you in a few days. Oh you look nice and strong I bet you'd love to kill me. I look at every tense face I pass in the hall, and think about how I may have to kill them. I have a one in six chance of doing so, that is. Six grades in our school, seventh through twelfth. We're all headed to the gymnasium that the reaping is taking place in. No one says a word.

Friends cling to each others hands, couples hug and fear their fate. I pass Jenna Currier, who is small and blonde, but has remarkable speed. In soccer she whizzed through opponents while the ball stayed at her feet. She could probably outrun anyone in eighth grade. Next I catch a glimpse of Darius Baker, the head of the popular clique. He is thin and athletic, and his hair is spiked up with gel that shimmers in the dull hall lights. He is looking straight ahead, rigid with anticipation. I pass Hannah West, the other head of the popular clique. She is dating Darius at the time, but if Mrs.Rivers hand grasps our grade last, I'm sure they will split apart. Next I watch Alexis Martin and Lily Pacini huddle down the herd of students, hands intertwined and eyes full of fear. Alexis is short, with puffy, natural hair and suited in a jean jacket. She's extremely nice and polite, and I can't even consider she'd kill anyone. Lily is in the popular crowd, and I'm somewhat surprised she's not with Hannah. She has striking beauty, with a plain t-shirt on today. We have a history of friendship, but with time we've dissolved the bond. We don't speak to each other.

Sooner or later we're in the gym, and each grade has been ordered to a specific set of bleachers. It's hectic here, and people murmur as they take a seat. I plop down next to Becca House. She is probably the biggest threat in the whole grade. She's often silent and polite, but in elementary she could climb poles and trees at lightning fast speeds, she could probably brake an arm in two seconds, and she's just over all scary.

Finally Mrs.Rivers, the principle, taps the microphone once and gives us all a huge smile. The room goes silent. She retrieves the mic from the stand, and then goes on with her speech.

"Welcome students, staff, and others. Today we have gathered here for a special event, the reaping. What's a reaping? Well, let me explain. Due to increased amounts of bullying in the US, congress has decided to have america participate in; "The Bully Games." All 50 states must host an annual School reaping, where they select 5 schools. These schools are chosen at random. The schools will only have to offer up a grade once for four years, then new schools will be selected. Is that clear?" All the students mumble "yes" and then she proceeds: "Our school was chosen 1 year ago, so this is our second installment of the game. Last year the Seniorrs were selected, and our victor, John Hall, is here with us today". She points to him, sitting in a chair set aside for New York State government officials. His expression is stone cold. "Anyways, the Bully Games. What are they you ask? Well, one grade is selected from each school, and that grade will be put in a simulated environment, the arena, and will be forced to fight until only one lone student, a victor, is standing." She ends this sentence with a big smile. "Oh, and... we will all watch". I shake my head at this, but there's nothing I can do about it. Any chance of the grade selected making some sort of peace offering is fictional. Students will kill. And students will die. I think of last year, the Senior being thrown into the game. The arena was terrifying. The ground was some pitch black rock, and no plants grew in the place, except for hollow trees that rooted out everywhere. The sky was always a dark purple, and large rock formations peeked up in the horizon. The games lasted 10 d

ays, and finally, after John Hall had won, they were over. The seniors killed each other hesitantly, as one would expect. It was terrible.

"Okey. So students, here is what the reaping is. I will select a grade from this bowl, and that grade may leave the gymnasium. I will select another, and they will leave. I will do this until only one grade is left, and they will be the grade to compete. Let's begin, shall we?" She trots over to the bowl, setting on top of a podium. She fingers out the first slip of paper. Please be eighth grade. Please. She unfolds it and chirps out, "Twelfth grade. Seniors." They all stand, and file out until in the corner, one set of bleachers is deserted. Next Mrs.Rivers whips out tenth grade, who nearly evacuate the scene in a minute. Next seventh, who all seem so relived. They smile and exhale, and skip on out. Three left. Only three. My body is nearly stuck still, and my pulse rises until I almost pass out. She takes out the next slip. "Ninth grade." she chirps. Only two left. I can hear a sob from behind me, but I don't bother to look to see who it is. "Eighth and Eleventh Grade. Who will it be?" She takes out the last shred of white, unfolds it, and says; "Eleventh Grade." And then she looks right at our bleachers. "Well, well. Eighth graders. Congratulations." Screams pierce through the air like bells, but it's impossible not to hear Mrs.Rivers' voice ring out over the speakers: "And... May the odds ever in your favor".