Night Flower

Ever since I turned twelve, I could feel the change—nothing like superpowers, but small things like scent, vision, and stamina, all of which were heightened. It was like waking up one day in a different body. I looked the same, but as the weeks and months passed by, my body adapted.

On the morning of my twelve birthday, there was no cake, no pink dress, no present. I just jumped out of bed, had breakfast, and went to school. No one said anything; no one approached me or said anything out of the ordinary. It was like any other day; I failed my arithmetic test, played jump rope on break, and got into an argument with Sally.

Like I said, totally normal.

You might ask what my argument was about. It was a heated discussion about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said I was invisible, and Sally mocked me.

"That's silly, how can anyone be invisible?"

"I can!" I screamed, a tone often used to make myself heard.

"No, you can't! Is stupid!" She screamed back at me. At this point, we were almost hitting heads.

"You're stupid." I pushed. I shouldn't have pushed; I knew better, but that was the hot blood in me.

And then we threw some punches; I got my braids pulled and a bloody nose, and she got a fat lip and a ripped shirt. We also hugged it out, promised to be the best of friends, and parted ways outside the school lawn. Our people would call ours a good relationship; we held no grudges, even when blood was spilled. It wasn't like we wouldn't heal with time. One time she gave me a black eye. For two days, I paraded the town with a blue-black bruise, and no one batted an eye, at least in our community. Like I said before, it is the hot blood in us. And being hot-blooded was better than the other option.

"Finish up; the drill is coming up."

"Yes, mama!" 

Every night at six pm, we gathered in groups of ten on the outskirts of town to train. Training. We have been training for as long as I can remember. Training for what? I have no idea. I hated this year. My group was the baby group. This means that anyone who turns twelve will be switched up, which also means NO SALLY.

Our parents dropped us off on an unmarked trail; dressed up with warm clothes and running shoes, I strolled, dreading what tonight might bring. Sometimes it was only following the path up the hill, sometimes strength training, and the worst one, combat. My brother once let it slip that they were testing our abilities. I had zero. But tonight, it would tell if the change had started, if what I felt this morning was true. Mama didn't say anything, and I was too afraid to ask her.

The clearing held about a few dozen kids of all sizes. Some faces I knew were new to me since this training ground was shared between the five small communities in the area. No one was talking. There was something in the air that felt electrified. Maybe it was me, or perhaps it was the man walking towards us. He looked massive, taller than Dad. His piercing eyes seemed to be looking right through me, like he knew who I was and my deepest secrets. I even stepped back.

"Welcome." His voice was rough and deep. "I'm Jason, and I will be your testing master tonight."

Testing Master. Whatever that meant, I had no idea.

"As you may know, all of you here have turned twelve in the last month, and tonight will be just like any other day. We are going to see how you go through the different courses we have prepared." I look around and notice a few dark figures spread across the clearing. The light of the flickering torches is not enough to see their features. "We'll divide you into small groups; you will go through the three stages and then sit back and relax. Give your best. Now, being!"

The hooded figures moved towards us. They were older kids, most likely in training. It was a simple course. Starting with following a trail, running at full speed, hide and seek, and finally combat. The last one terrified me the most. Sparring with friends had been easy. Taking a few blows and then laughing it out had been fun, but not when I knew we were being evaluated for something I still hadn't figured out. I'm not a fast runner or a fighter, but I can hide. Very well.

"Run, pigtails." 

Damn it. 

Right, I can't curse.

I'm panting hard, my calves are burning, and I have tripped so many times that my big left toe is starting to hurt. The bus kept snickering, bumping onto the slower ones, and calling us names. So many have run past me that I'm beginning to think that I will end up being the last one. My chest hurts.

"Keep up; it's almost over." I hear a familiar voice behind me. Kyle, my big brother, is jogging beside me. How I didn't recognize him must have been his clothing, black over black, plus the darkness; it wasn't like I could see in the dark yet.

"I'm tired." I said to him. "My legs are tired."

"Don't let Jason hear you whine; you will wish you were dead." He said the last part with force before disappearing up ahead.

I don't care what Jason thinks. We had to be running for almost an hour now. The lights up ahead finally announced the end of the trail was near. I had to push myself the last few miles to get through the finish line. No one cheered or said encouraging words. It was primarily groans and pants. A few smirks for the ones that had taken the lead, a few sad faces from the ones that had arrived last, like me.

My hand trembled as I dropped to my knees on the cool grass. Air barely filled my lungs before I felt it rush out. The burn and the pain were too much. My shirt stuck to my back, and I could tell one of my ponytails had dropped.

"Five minutes," a booming voice said up ahead. "Take a look around. We have reserved a few spaces for the next course. Combat, two people, ten minutes. Try to avoid eyes."

Avoid eyes. 

He wasn't serious. That was the only rule—well, more like a suggestion. I was going to get pummeled, beaten to a pulp in front of Kyle—talk about humiliation.

"Hi." 

A small voice beside me made me look up.

"Hello." A tall girl stood next to me; her breathing was just as irregular as mine, her chest going up and down, trying to catch air. "Wanna do the next one together?" Don't blame me for hesitating. This was my first time meeting Rachel. She said something about not knowing anyone and proceeded to introduce herself. "I promise I won't hit you in the face."

"We can choose?" She shrugged, probably knowing as much as I didn't, which was nothing, of course.

"I don't want to be with a boy."

"Me neither." She grinned and crouched low beside me. At the same level, I watched how the sweat ran down her neck, disappearing under her collar.

It pretty much went as I expected. She kicked my ass and then some. I was able to land some blows, but she was pretty good and fast too. Her kicks bruised my ribs. I had a bloody lip, but that was because I fell hard on my face. I dare to say that she went easy on me. She stopped once or twice to let me have the chance to hit her, making me seem cooler than I was.

Soon we lay on our backs, watching as the boys put on a show, showing off their new abilities: fast movements and agility. The same boy that had pushed me was able to do backflips and high kicks without breaking rhythm. He made his opponent work his ass off. Yeah, I didn't like this kid one bit.

Next was the last part: hide and seek.

Finally, something I was very good at