• It all began with the white room.
    It was a typical, plain space where I was smashed into with about thirty other girls, all different ages and sizes. At first, I didn't know the point to the Games that they made us play, but you really don't question things in dreams. Either way, their was only one male in the room, a boy with silky black hair, who was referred to as The Host.
    If I new these people in the room were real, and not just random people I had created subconsiously, I would've never fought them. I wouldn't shed so much blood, or win so many challenges that sent the other girls into the dark room- which later turned out to be death chambers. But I didn't, I thought that in dreams you couldn't get hurt, that you'd wake up when you were about to die.
    Problem is, my dreams aren't typical. Their very vivid, with lots of details that hide in the back of my mind when I'm awake. They seem so real, and the only times I know I'm dreaming is when I'm in a room- like this Game Areana. Because things like this can't really be happening- right? Wrong, things like this go on everywhere. I'm just obvilvous to these matters.
    As well, I'm a pawn to helping them and their deaths rest on my unconcious shoulders.
    So whats wrong with serving the dark world so much? The fact that I'm not allowed there, that I'm mortal which is forbidden. I thought The Host was my friend, I figured that The Game wasn't real, and it was just entertainment for my sleepy brain. But I was wrong, The Games are real and as deadly as ever. And The Host? The one that makes my heart beat quickly when hes near? He's even worse than The Games, because hes mortal as well-- and his next job is too kill the winner. Me.