Arena 1 (The Survival Trilogy, #1)

by Morgan Rice

Bree tells me it’s December. She likes to count down the days to Christmas, scratching off the numbers each day on an old calendar she found. She does it with such enthusiasm, I can’t bring myself to tell her we’re nowhere near December. I won’t tell her that her calendar is three years old, or that we’ll never get a new one, because they stopped making them the day the world ended. I won’t deny her her fantasy. That’s what big sisters are for.

thats such a nice thing to do for a younger sibling

It’s funny how you can hate things so much as a kid that you end up appreciating as an adult.

That’s a pretty sums up how I felt when I was growing up

Over the last hundred years, he said, America had been drifting into a land of two nations: those on the far right, and those on the far left. Over time, positions hardened so deeply, it became a nation of opposing ideologies.

“You killed him,” he says. I can barely hear him over the roar of the engine, and I wonder if I just imagined it, or if it was my conscience speaking. But Ben turns to me and repeats it: “You killed that man,” he says louder, as if amazed such a thing could happen. I’m not sure how to respond. “Yes I did,” I say finally, annoyed. I don’t need him reminding me of it. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Ben,” I say. “If you think you can survive, if you can see yourself surviving, then you will. It’s about what you force yourself to imagine in your head. About what you tell yourself.” “That’s just lying to yourself,” Ben says. “No it’s not,” I answer. “It’s training yourself. There’s a difference. It’s seeing your own future, the way you want it to be, and creating it in your head, and then making it happen. If you can’t see it, then you can’t create it.” “You sound like you actually believe you can survive,” Ben says, sounding amazed. “I don’t believe it,” I snap. “I know it. I am going to survive. I will survive,” I hear myself saying, with growing confidence. I have always had an ability to psych myself up, to get myself so into a head that there’s no turning back. Despite everything, I find myself swelling with a newfound confidence, a new optimism. And suddenly, at that moment, I make a decision: I am determined to survive. Not for me. But for Bree. After all, I don’t know that she is dead yet. She might be alive. And the only chance I have of saving her is if I can stay alive. If I survive this arena. And if that’s what it takes, then that is what I will do. I will survive.

Do it, Brooke! Save your sister! You have a responsibility! DO IT! I lean forward and launch it with all my might. And that is the moment that changes everything.

“Please, Ben,” I plead. “Come with me. We’ll get Bree and make it out of this. We’ll survive together.” “I can say the same thing,” he says. “I can ask you to come with me. Why is your sister more important than my brother?” It is a good point. He loves his brother as much as I love my sister. And I understand. There’s nothing I can say to that. The reality hits me that we will part ways at dawn. And I will probably never see him again.

no one is more important then another

“This might cheer you up,” suddenly comes a voice. I turn and see Ben standing there. To my surprise, there is a slight smile on his face. I look down and see that he is holding something. Something small, wrapped in a blanket. He’s holding it out towards Bree. Suddenly, a small dog pops its head out from the blanket. I can’t believe it. It is a small Chihuahua, missing one eye. It shakes and trembles, looking terrified. “OH MY GOD!” Bree and Rose both scream out at once, eyes open wide in surprise.

omg cutie petotie