Prologue
In my village of Mali-Tolio, when a person reaches the age of 19, they get a weapon to match their personality. With no training or mentor, they are then supposed to figure out their weapon for themselves. No two people had the same weapon, well until I got my weapon.
We don’t get any training. No help. How do they (meaning the Locker) expect us to understand our weapon in only the year we are given before we are sent to war? No idea. All I know is it’s almost my turn. My test won’t be nice. How do I know? They’ve been nicer to me than other people. I hope it all turns out okay.
Until next time, EVAD.
My life has never been easy. The easiest part was my toddler years. No duties. No responsibilities. No worrying about the Locker and what test they would give me. Now, I’m on the run. A runaway. They’ll ask my friends and family in years to come “Describe Evelyn in one word” and they will say “runaway”. I’m not. I only am now because of the Locker. They jinxed me. I will hate them forever.
Why me? Why is it always me who gets picked on? First, the kids in school. Then, the Locker. I don’t know what kind of trick they are playing. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. I wouldn’t be on the run if it wasn’t for her.
If there is a next time, until then, AXCU.
My life was an easy one. I have never been a bad person. Just maybe different. I was the first dagger they ever had had. I’m only on the run because of Adara. Maybe next time the Locker will think before they play games like this again. The Locker thinks they can control everything. I already figured out that they already know who gets what weapon based on how they react in the holding cells. Adara must have been like me. Or the Locker just needed something new. A chase.
