Cells Beneath the Arena

A scrap of writing found in prison cells on Reshin. The writer appears to have been a young man.

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My name is (word illegible), I am fifteen years old, and I am in the cells beneath the arena. My family and I are from (word illegible). Less than ten years ago, a fleet of ships attacked our village and took the survivors as slaves.
I do not know where my parents went. I had two sisters, one older and one younger. I do not know where they are either. I hope they are dead. Death is better than my fate.
I have been a house servant since I was enslaved, serving the nobles and the wealthy of the people who destroyed my home. Only a few years ago, maybe three, the fleet discovered an empire ruled by aliens and attacked them. The Rhyhendra they attacked were peaceful and easily defeated. Now the survivors have become their slaves as well.
Three weeks ago, I angered my masters enough for them to send me to the most dreaded place on this planet: the arena. It is where slaves and prisoners are sent to die. We are thrown into impossible matches, forced to fight each other for their entertainment, and killed for their amusement.
I have been in eight battles and killed seven people. One of my fights was against a wolf. One of my fights was against a Rhyhendra child, no more than ten years old, with eyes that were once bright violet. I will never forget how dark they looked when we fought. I will never forget how relieved he looked when I slit his throat.
My ninth fight is tonight. My opponent is on the other side of the wall, in the cell beside mine.
She is speaking.
I am in the cells below the arena. I can hear the afternoon battles. The screams of the crowd are deafening. The screams of the gladiators even more so.
I am in the cells beneath the arena, waiting for nightfall to come. There is a girl in the cell beside me.
there is a girl in the cell beside me and she thinks she is a monster because she has killed. I tell her she is not. She is only trying to survive. They are the monsters, for making her do this. One of us dies tonight, and it is not our fault.
I do not want to die.
But neither does she.