Group Story: The Crisis Market

Hi! This is a group story a few of my friends are writing! If you have an idea for the name, please post in the comments below!! Also, other comments are much appreciated!!

Chapter 1

Skye's POV

I peered into the scope, it’s sight locked on the head. I could feel my palms sweating. I had to make this shot. My finger squeezed the trigger and it went off, a little bit of a recoil barely affecting me. Bull’s-eye! The bullet sliced through the head of the dummy, creating a clean shot.

"Nice shot, Skye!", the commander told me as she wrote my score down.

I was more than pleased. In fact, this was practically the first time in the last eight years that I was this happy. The last eight years had been horrible. I had been plagued with fatigue and sickness. Now, I was still poor but well fed and happy. The memory rushed back on how I had become who I am.


The words echoed out through the forest, creating a sense of betrayal and loss. I clutched my wounded hand and made my way through the forest, scared out of my mind. I was only twelve years old, and a naive girl at that. But I continued to run.

My parents I thought, disbelief hitting me like a hard blow.

I knew they were long gone now. The government had taken they, just like they had with all the rest of the smart ones. They had sold my parents off to a rich foreign country. And they would have sold me too if I had not escaped.

I remembered how strong my parents had been when the crisis had began. They had clutched each other’s hands and refused to leave America, saying how it was their true and only home. They didn’t expect anything terrible to happen here as long as they had each other and their little baby girl.

How wrong they’d been.

Now I was alone. It was unlikely that anyone would hire a twelve year old girl except for the factories, and I wanted to work in anything but the factories. They paid less then minimum wage, and the overseers were cruel, merciless people. Yet the factories held all the power in America, almost like the olden days. But these weren't the olden days, and this crisis was even worse then the Great Depression.

I trudged on through that bleak forest in the middle of the night. I couldn't cry, not now, when what I needed most was to be strong.

But no matter how many farms and towns I came across, no one would even look my way. The country was too poor to hire twelve year old girls without any skills. I considered buying my own land and starting a business. After all, land in America was being sold for only twelve dollars an acre and six for half. But I barely even had enough money for half and acre, let alone money for supplies and a house.

The next few months were hard ones. You could buy a full meal for twenty five cents, and I could make one meal last all day. Yet the time came when I had ran out of money completely. The days were getting colder, and I felt my fingers going numb as white snowflakes poured from the sky. I lived in a shelter I had made from broken logs, twigs, and large rocks. There was only enough room to sleep in it.

When I turned thirteen, I felt a sense of achievement. I had survived for one year on my own, eating scraps I could find and bundling up in a torn yet thick blanket I had found in a trash can. I spent my times dreaming and hoping. I had hopes for the future, that I would be discovered and get a magnificent job. I dreamed her parents would come back, rich and prosperous. But when I turned thirteen I knew that I was hoping for the impossible. I felt that I had to do something to make my life how I wanted it to be.

Then, as I turned fifteen, I found a place that had been reaching out to me, even though I knew nothing of it’s existence until the day I found it.

I had been carrying produce to the market when I saw a long path leading off the main road. I had followed the path for an hour. At the ending of the path there were 5 huge, metal buildings. And on an old, faded sign near the closest building read the words:

“National Recruitment and Training Camp: All Welcome.”

I dropped the produce and ran towards the building, feeling a sense of energy I hadn’t felt in years. I felt a deep yearning inside of me.

And in that moment, I knew where I belonged.

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