Author's note: This is a story, sort of based on The Hunger Games but not. I shall just say it is 'similar'. The idea/sense of it sounds stupid at the moment but throughout the story it all pieces together. Would be great if you can tell me what you think/what needs to be done:P The next part will be up next week or so. Merry Christmas!

Chapter One-
The Safe House

I climb the steps to the grand hotel. Its monstrous gold decor towering over me as I stand in awe. Carefully, I look around me, feeling the cool breeze creep down my neck, reminding me that I really shouldn't be doing this. Inside, the air is much warmer and I can feel myself relaxing as the lobby is completely empty. The room is ginormous and the walls are painted an almost sparkling gold colour. Gold silk had been weaved into the rugs that were randomly placed around the white laminated wood flooring. Every piece of furniture is coated in a fine, smooth golden paint. I breathe in the fresh smell of fruit and just clean air. At the far end of the golden lobby, a large man dressed in yellow awaits for me to check in. I stroll over to the desk as casually as I can, making it sure that the guy at the desk doesn't take any notice to my dirty clothing.
"Can I help you?" He asks, a slight touch of a northern accent (possibly from The Green City) creeping into his voice.
I glance back at the door as I wonder if I should have even set foot in the area let alone the building. I could have stayed with my family and risked getting killed. But every day included that risk anyway.

I climb three flights of stairs until I reach my room, there's no number but the large, obnoxious guy at the lobby told me it's the only room on the third floor without a fresh coat of paint. I reach the door and slide the golden card into the slot, he was right; the door definitely needed some more paint. The yellow was chipping off and you could see faint pieces of the black undercoat. Inside, everything is so bright and golden, it almost blinds me. I groan, trying to find the light switch to dim everything down. Golden curtains, walls, flooring, bed sheets, fridge, cupboards, everything. Ever since I had stepped foot into The Golden City, I was taken back by the fact that everything is in fact golden. Especially compared to back home in The Dark City. I sigh; thinking about my hometown sends evil shivers down my spine.
We live in the Dark Ages, we used to have rights, before it was taken away from us: The amount of food each household had, work times, our freedom of speech and later, everything. England, was once a brilliant, inspiring country before turning to a chilling communist-crazy country. Apparently, back in 2020 (98 years ago), the world wasn't far off from the state of it now. Except for America, Russia and half of Europe. Fifty years ago, President Marshall ordered his secret team to wipe out the countries who had morphed into a LEDC (Less Economically Developed Country). America and Europe had traded most of their coins for food. It was discovered thirteen days before that India had been proven to have most of the food in the world with its great technology and smart minds to grow man-made food. The result of this, America and most of Europe ended up being in the 'Fewer than 30%' category, created by the Skilliens. When the leaders of the Skilliens heard this, they terminated the entire lot. Including Russia who protested against the idea. Every single adult was slaughtered and every child between the ages of five and 12 were spared and made to train for any countries that rebelled against the Skillien's rules. Under fives were also terminated.

I shiver again, realizing that if I was in one of the trading countries, I too would have been killed prematurely. Age sixteen, otherwise known as 'The Deathly Age'. If you do not separate from your families and go into hiding, you will be found and relocated into a Slave Home. The thought of this sends horrifying images through my brain and I begin to feel an agonizing headache. I place my rucksack on the floor, kick off my boots and curl up onto the bed. Soft, golden silk engulfs me and I close my eyes in amazement, feeling warmth and relaxation seep into me. I feel for my phone in my pocket and check for texts: 0
Feeling a little low, I flip over onto my back and I imagine what my family would be doing right now. I smile slightly as I imagine my mother and father comforting my twin sisters and brother. I sigh, feeling a wave of regret rush over me as I realize that leaving was going to have a much bigger impact on me than I thought. The thought of my younger brother, Ryan brings warm tears to my eyes. I haven't cried since I was young. Not even when I left home. But the thought of possibly never seeing my little Ryan again brings the pain crashing through me. Even though I love my little sisters also, my brother had always relied on me for things, and I was always the one to look after him. This grew on me and I began to think of him as a close friend as well as a beautiful brother. Shaking my head as if it would make the images fall away, I began picturing my family as I left them instead. The last glimpse of my mother, father, sisters, brother and dogs before I jogged down the road, hoping that the Skillien's slaves wouldn't be on walk about. I remember my mother's thin, ragged mousy brown hair tied up behind her with a frail ribbon as tears crawled down her pale, heart-shaped face. She cradled the four-year-old twins, Amelia and Sophia in her arms. Amelia's body was shaking with tears whilst Sophia's face stayed simply cold and paralyzed by the travesty. Beside them was my father, teary-eyed but smiling slightly, waving me off whilst clutching the dog's leads.

I smile again, remembering Bertha and Millie, the young Yorkshire Terriers that belongs to my six-year-old brother. Oh Ryan, I remember his sweet little face all red with tears, his bottom lip quivering as he pressed his head into my shoulder and I carried him outside to where the family stood, waiting to wave me off.
"Don't go Evelyn." He whispered into my ear as I placed him down next to our father.
"I'm afraid I have to." I admitted, kissing every one of them on the cheek or forehead before turning away and making my way down the street.
My phone buzzes, startling me from my reverie. It's the text, telling me that the blackout will begin in thirty minutes. The blackout is where the deaths begin rising. The Skilliens begin to patrol every street until the sixteen-year-olds are hunted out. My friend Aylah told me that I wouldn't have trouble escaping because I was such a fast runner and a brilliant hider. For a moment, I begin to drift off into another memory...
The last time I had cried. I had only just found out about the Slave Homes, the Skilliens and The Deathly Age.
"Evelyn Summers, you will be the last person I see in a Slave Home. You're brilliant at hiding and their legs are no match for yours!" Aylah insisted.
"But in seven years time we'll be sixteen; we'll have to run away from our homes." I sobbed.
Aylah comforted me, unable to say another word as she processed this information; she too, knew it was going to happen.

I wipe a lonely tear with my left thumb as I wonder how Aylah is getting on. Has she been caught already? Is she hiding underground or in a Safe House like me? Although she knew that I was good at things, Aylah had good strategies too. One time three years ago, she escaped the Skillien slaves who were heading down her street, searching for poor sixteen-year-olds. They had caught her roaming the street by herself and they threatened to keep her but she escaped. Barely.
I keep repeating names in my head. Ryan Summers. Amelia and Sophia Summers. Aylah Truman.
A loud knock at the golden door startles me and I jump up, half expecting the Skilliens to barge in and take me prisoner. The reverberation of the knocking begins to irritate me as the knocker continues to make their presence known.
"Alright, alright!" I groan, wiping remaining tears and scrubbing myself down, making myself look more presentable.
I open the door to reveal a handsome but scrubby young man wearing ripped, dirty, worn out clothes that make my entire body fill up with lethargy just by laying eyes on them. I try my best to give my winning smile but I'm frightened that it appears to be a meaningless grimace.
"Um, hey there. I was just passing by this hotel when I saw you coming in, are you hiding too?" The boy asks, his light brown hair sways beside his face as he looks behind his shoulders as if expecting an unwanted guest.
I nod whilst I gather up my options on what to say to this stranger.
"The Deathly Age." I manage, barely hearing it myself.
The boy nods in response and says quietly, "Is it safe here? It's just... I don't have any experience and I don't think I can survive much longer. Every room is taken here and I don't know if there is another Safe House for miles."

I pause, weighing out options. Do I let him die? Do I let him stay with me? I shift my weight, impatient with my own train of thought.
"I don't trust strangers." I say finally.
The boy's lips turn up at one corner slightly, "Do I look like a Skillien?"
He was right. It's frightfully easy to spot a Skillien with their scales and dark red skin. Despite this, their features are still similar to humans. I widen the door enough for the boy to step in.
"Thank you." He smiles, rushing past me. I breathe in a wave of his scent. Shower is in the room on the left, I want to say.
I close the door and return to my bag to place it on a golden shelf in the corner of the room.
"What's your name?" I ask.
The boy makes a noise of amusement, "Actually, it's a nickname but, it's Bud."
"Bud." I repeat slowly, "Well, Bud. I'm Evelyn Summers. What's your real name, for future references?"
Bud pauses, hesitates, and then shakes his head. I raise my eyebrows at him before turning away as he unexpectedly takes off his grubby shirt.
"I have nothing to hide. Turn back." Bud chuckles.
As I do, I regret it. Bud's muscles are exposed, his broad shoulders so dirty but tan. His hair is so greasy but I can tell that it looks so beautiful when it's groomed. I cross the room and open the bathroom door to inspect its contents. The gold blinds me again as expected but I try my best not to show the pain.
"You can take a shower if you wish." I call out to Bud.
"Thank you." He shouts back before joining me in the bathroom, "Do you mind if I take the offer now?"
I stare at him blankly, unable to process his last words, stunned by his natural beauty underneath his ash covered face.
My eyes blink shut before I focus completely on reality, "Uh, yeah, sorry. Go ahead."
I pass him swiftly to exit but as I do, Bud's soft voice speaks to me quietly.
"Blake." He says, "Blake Regan."
I smile softly to myself as I close the door behind me, placing his name with his face.