Writing in Process

I’m a writer. I want to be a professional writer. You know where I’m not just doing my own cover. I get a good amount of ideas from life and have a bunch of half baked stories in different notebooks and on pieces of paper. This is one of my newest ideas that I put on my paper. The book would be called Battle Grounds. And it’s about two fifteen year old kids in a place based on either ancient Rome or ancient Greece. I haven’t really decided yet. The boy’s name is Callahan and the girl’s name is Nyx. But anyway. Here’s a sample of the second chapter.

 Nyx

I walked around the market with my cloak hood up. Being the city’s champion, I have a lot of names. My real name is Nyx. The one my family gave me. But various people know me differently. MJ, short for Mocking Jay, is the name I use on the street, Ameca is the name I use with the higher class, and my arena name is Athenyx. Part my name and part the Greek wisdom goddess’s. Athena was (is, I don’t know) the goddess of wisdom, battle strat, and war. And these things are my main strengths when it comes to the arena.

As I walked down the dirt road, I scanned the market, remembering the time I had first come here as a runaway. 

I looked down at my wrist and played with the gold band that the queen had given me as payment. I twisted it back and forth, watching it glint in the sunlight against my bronze skin. 

Another thing that made me different. My skin. I mean it’s not like there’s no one else with a dark skin tone on the streets or in the higher class. But my skin did a weird shifting thing. If I stand next to someone with darker skin, my skin looks lighter than it is. But, if I stand next to someone with lighter skin, then my skin looks darker than it was. This was a thing that I relied heavily on when I lived on the streets having to steal food. I still rely on it when I’m not in the arena, walking around. ‘Allways adapting,’ the Queen says.

“Hey!” I hear someone shout, making me stop twisting my bracelet,“ Get back here!”

I turned my head to the right to see three kids running away with bread and a jug of cider. Half consciously, I smiled and started moving towards them. Honestly I hope they get away. Our punishment system is very extreme. No one steals unless they have to. But before they even make it two stalls over, an officer stops them in their tracks. This makes me push through the crowd of people faster.

“Excuse me officer,” I said when I got over there and put my hood back,“ Is there a problem?”

The officer turned his head to look at me and I saw a wave of shock go over his face. Here’s the thing, no one interfered with officers. Ever. Especially not a girl. It was seen as ‘unladylike’. He cleared his throat.

“These kids stole bread and a jug of cider, ma’am,” he said. His voice wasn’t too deep but it wasn’t the voice of a boy’s weather. He looked to be about fifteen. That’s how old I am. He had greenish, hazelish eyes and light skin. His black hair was short and wavy. He was handsome but I didn’t pay attention to looks. There’s no place for looks in the arena. That only mattered if you were too bloodied up or bruised badly. 

“They will be arrested and then- ”, he said, but I cut him off.

“Let them go,” I said, putting power into my voice,“ I’m sure I can pay for whatever they stole.”

“Ma’am, my implore-.”

“Your implore won’t have to hear about this. Will they? Which do you think they’re more worried about? Some hungry kids or the war going on outside these walls?”

The guard moistened his lips in thought.

“Well the behavior can’t go tolerated,” he said turning to me.

“Of course not,” I said,“And it won’t. They’ll be given a warning. And if this happens again, you might not be as forgiving, will you?”

The guard’s gaze went to the children. Only now did I pay attention to their appearances.

There were three kids. One girl (she seemed to be the oldest and the leader) and two young boys. They all had the same freckled faces and blond hair. I assumed they were siblings.

The guard let out a sigh.

“Fine,” he said to me,“I’ll escort you to the shop.”

“Sure,” I said, as if he had asked a question.

“And you are all dismissed,” he said to the children.

The guard turned and the children slowly started to back away.

“Wait,” I called, softly to them. I crouched down in front of them, lowering myself to their height. I took off the golden band on my wrist.

“Here,” I said, whispering , giving it to them,“ This will get you at least another week’s worth of food if you’re wise with it.”

The girl looked at the younger boys and hesitantly took the band.

“Thank you,” she whispered,“ Miss…”

“Mocking Jay,” I said.

“Miss. Mocking Jay,” she said with a small smile on her lips. Then she and the younger boys ran of into the chaos.