Chapter one - green beans

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The world is cruel, it's a blunt statement, but a true one none the less. Ever since they came into the world, however long ago it was, it's been like this. In all honesty, they solved all the problems we couldn't, pollution, world hunger, poverty, racism, of course, they didn't solve it for us. They only solves it for themselves. who are they? They're wolves.

Apparently, by what we learned in the short hours of school when we were kids, was that they'd overridden our society filled with human normality in a matter of days. The history books frame them as heros, they say that they saved us from... whatever. But they also say that we suppressed them, that we were cruel enough to hunt them down and make them hide. No one cares about the history anymore though, all that matters is the now. Humans at the bottom, werewolves at the top, and everything in between.

God the price of food is high

I think, 50 dollars for a can of peaches. That's just what it's like down here. You work for hours upon hours upon hours, sometimes with government enstated "office jobs"  working on a computer till your fingers cramp up and you can barely stay awake, or sometimes with a factory job wearing rags and sowing cloth till your hands are covered in needle pricks. Only to be rewarded with a minimum wage of 1.30$ an hour. Money is worth nothing, and we have so little of it. People walk around markets carrying money in barrels, only to walk out with a few cans of expired beans.

Putting things back on the shelves, I narrow my options down to a can of tomatoes, or a can of twenty year old green beans. Both priced over a hundred dollars, but they at least are edible. Some of the stuff on these shelves could kill you.

"Darlin! I gotta close up soon so hurry up. That big ball thing comin up has got them wolves all shaken up. Security measures on the HHS are tightened, we close at 7 now" the owner of the little corner store spoke up from her seat in the desk. She was an old woman, her hair white and receding, she never told her name, we aren't supposed to talk about our personal lives. Humans are "meant for work" they say.

"Okay. I'm finished anyway. If I may, why have the prices tripled? Last I checked these were worth twenty dollars at most?" I pointed to the cans, and her gaze followed sadly, she knows this isn't enough to feed me, my mom, and my brothers. She knows that I will probably go without food for the week, but she won't say anything. I know she won't. She cares, but not enough to put her own life on the line.

"I heard there were a few border issues, and the closest food shipment will be next month. Food is scarce dear, and expensive. You better eat all you can at that mating ball tommorow, probably will be the best meal you'll ever have"  she stared at my basket and plucked the can of green beans out, knowing it's what I would inevitably choose. We can't talk about ourselves, well, we shouldn't. But we can talk about mates, it's something "written into fate", supposedly a mate is someone you are fated to be with. And wolves go all crazy for them, cause it releases some chemical in their head. I didn't listen all that well in 8th grade biology before I dropped out, so that's all I really know.

But it's something that we're encouraged to talk about, having a high rank mate of any species other than human is all we're good for. That and working like slaves. Humans don't have the best track record for accepting mates, we were made defected, we weren't born by some ancient moon goddess like the wolves, or from the light of the suns tears like the fae or witches, so we don't feel the bond as strongly as we should. It's drilled in our heads from the day we're born that we have to accept our mate and love them, as in the past humans as a whole have failed to understand. Maybe that's why we're treated like this.

"As if they'll actually feed the humans. Anyway. Thank you, I'll see you next week after I get paid" I waved at her, and she gave me a tight lipped smile, which pulled at her skin and showed how sickly she looked. She knows I'm not supposed to talk about the poor treatment of humans here, it's against the rules, but she knows I'm right. Poor woman. I probably look the same, we all do down here.  I shut the door behind me, tucking the can into the brown paper bag she'd given me and beginning my journey home. I worked in a large factory, where we milled cotton and sewed large flabs of fabric that would later be turned into dresses. It was a mile or two away from the apartments where I lived, but it was right next to the old woman's store, so I could go get food right after I got paid.

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