It’s late July and it’s the kind of exhausting heat that even 3 am doesn’t conquer. It’s not dark, nor is it light. The moon is still glowing full, and the sun is slowly waking from its slumber. I’ve saddled up my horse, Eleven and spent the majority of yesterday scoping out and setting up targets. I need more of a challenge. I need small , hidden, stationary targets whilst I’m moving. I’ve decided the best way to do this is to mount my horse and gallop at full speed while drawing the bow and shooting predetermined targets. My targets; cans I’ve set up strategically and just barely in sight along the roadside, but far enough away from the poorly maintained road to be a challenge. But of-course, its illegal to draw a bow any where near the town centre, hence the 3 am start, and the motivation for Eleven and I to run as fast as we can. I work best under pressure. I’m ready. I have 10 arrows. 10 cans anticipating their demise. The road is arrow straight and goes directly through my District. I start at one end and I give myself enough space so as to make sure I’m at top speed before drawing my first arrow. As I draw closer to the first target I pull back with as much concentration as I can and let go. Success. The hit reverberates through my ears and it’s the sound of expertise. I am an expert and I am driven to prove it. I’m ready to draw the last arrow when I hear the piercing siren of not being a law abiding citizen. I can’t back down now, I only have one left. I shoot, and mixed with the sound of the siren is the ‘clink’ of the can. Even though I know there are repercussions , I can’t help but smile. If I really wanted too, I know Eleven and I could escape this scene. However, I also know that this particular Town Guard knows who I am, and in fact has already given me a warning. I trot up to the Guard, dismount, and happily with arms stretched out, receive the cold metal cuffs while dawning an empowering smile.
Written by: Mary Forwell; Diamond Rose