Erin was the only girl in her launch. This might have bothered some girls,
but Erin didn't mind. Granted, it did give the other kids a convenient
scapegoat for their aggressions, but after Erin broke one boy's nose, they
pretty much left her alone. She remembered the waterfall of thick, red
blood and his anguished howls of pain with satisfaction. Andrews, the
launch mom, scolded her, but she managed to escape unscathed, perhaps
because the teachers noticed she was being targeted.
After the broken nose incident, life became relatively uneventful. The other launchies continued to pick on her, but as their primary objectives became to avoid injury, the tormenting turned subtle. Little things like trying to trip her in the barracks, or simple verbal abuse. Erin ignored them as best she could, but other incidents did occur, although few were as serious as the broken nose.
Erin threw herself wholeheartedly into her classes, delighted to find that posed of them actually posed something of an intellectual challenge. The Battle Room too was an object of great fascination to Erin. She took great pleasure at the feeling of weightlessness, and in the fact that there, it didn't matter that she was the smallest, scrawniest kid in the launch. Actually, her size gave her an agility that was a definite advantage. Although her aim was nothing spectacular, it was very solid, and her shots went home more consistently than those of her launchmates. In speed, she was slightly lacking, for she had not the leg muscle to push off hard enough to gain a speed much above average. But she worked hard in the Gym in all her spare time, running endless laps around the track. The younger children were not allowed to use the weight machines. She sat alone in the Mess Hall and ate as quickly as she could. When she was finished, she dumped her tray and fled to the track to make use of the spare time.
Erin still did not make any friends, as much through her own choices as from the ostracization of her peers. She embraced her isolation, and scorned the occasion advance of a launchmate who had drifted from the popular group and re-evaluated her worth as a friend. She was lonely sometimes, but her pride did not allow forgiveness, and so isolated she remained. She dug herself deeper into solitude, and clung to her grudges because she had nothing else to cling to.
Erin occupied any time not spent on homework, exercise, or the Battle Room playing the fantasy game. It was an object of much fascination to her, particularly the Giant's Drink. Again and again she found herself there, just to see in which new, innovative way she would die. Some were frustrated by the game, but Erin was ambivalent. She knew it was rigged, and therefore did not care. What did a silly game matter to her? The Battle Room was the key.
The older kids barely noticed her, and when they did, it was only to tell her to beat it or something equivalent. She only fought a soldier once --- a kid almost twice her size in a colorful jumpsuit very different from her own pale blue one --- and, naturally, lost. But she held out much longer than was expected of her, due to the darting her size and speed gave her, and to a dirty method of fighting she adopted and perfected. (blows to the groin, stomach, nose, and knees) After that, she seldom lost a fight.
Erin did not miss home as most of the other launchies did. She did not cry the first night, nor allow herself any outward sign of weakness in front of the others. In truth, she really did not miss her home all that much. She missed her sister and parents a little bit, but it was never acutely. She never had any friends in school to leave behind, and so Battle School seemed like as good or bad a prison as the one she had come from.
After the broken nose incident, life became relatively uneventful. The other launchies continued to pick on her, but as their primary objectives became to avoid injury, the tormenting turned subtle. Little things like trying to trip her in the barracks, or simple verbal abuse. Erin ignored them as best she could, but other incidents did occur, although few were as serious as the broken nose.
Erin threw herself wholeheartedly into her classes, delighted to find that posed of them actually posed something of an intellectual challenge. The Battle Room too was an object of great fascination to Erin. She took great pleasure at the feeling of weightlessness, and in the fact that there, it didn't matter that she was the smallest, scrawniest kid in the launch. Actually, her size gave her an agility that was a definite advantage. Although her aim was nothing spectacular, it was very solid, and her shots went home more consistently than those of her launchmates. In speed, she was slightly lacking, for she had not the leg muscle to push off hard enough to gain a speed much above average. But she worked hard in the Gym in all her spare time, running endless laps around the track. The younger children were not allowed to use the weight machines. She sat alone in the Mess Hall and ate as quickly as she could. When she was finished, she dumped her tray and fled to the track to make use of the spare time.
Erin still did not make any friends, as much through her own choices as from the ostracization of her peers. She embraced her isolation, and scorned the occasion advance of a launchmate who had drifted from the popular group and re-evaluated her worth as a friend. She was lonely sometimes, but her pride did not allow forgiveness, and so isolated she remained. She dug herself deeper into solitude, and clung to her grudges because she had nothing else to cling to.
Erin occupied any time not spent on homework, exercise, or the Battle Room playing the fantasy game. It was an object of much fascination to her, particularly the Giant's Drink. Again and again she found herself there, just to see in which new, innovative way she would die. Some were frustrated by the game, but Erin was ambivalent. She knew it was rigged, and therefore did not care. What did a silly game matter to her? The Battle Room was the key.
The older kids barely noticed her, and when they did, it was only to tell her to beat it or something equivalent. She only fought a soldier once --- a kid almost twice her size in a colorful jumpsuit very different from her own pale blue one --- and, naturally, lost. But she held out much longer than was expected of her, due to the darting her size and speed gave her, and to a dirty method of fighting she adopted and perfected. (blows to the groin, stomach, nose, and knees) After that, she seldom lost a fight.
Erin did not miss home as most of the other launchies did. She did not cry the first night, nor allow herself any outward sign of weakness in front of the others. In truth, she really did not miss her home all that much. She missed her sister and parents a little bit, but it was never acutely. She never had any friends in school to leave behind, and so Battle School seemed like as good or bad a prison as the one she had come from.