5. The Wait

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   I pursed my lips as I stood in front of my closet, trying to choose what to wear. I mean, you gotta look good for the pictures, right? It's not like I had a lot of choices, anyways. I shrugged and took one of the only fancy shirts I had, along with a pair of worn out pants. Oh well, I thought, taking off my clothes and replacing them with the clothes I picked out.

   "It looks... decent," I said, cocking my head as I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at my hair and cringed, immediately grabbing a comb and combing through my tangled hair. After that, I put my hair into a side braid (if you have short hair, leave it down) and examined myself in the mirror again. I actually looked kind of pretty. I went to my drawer and took out lipgloss, the only makeup I owned, and put it on, tempted to lick it off.

   I smiled and smoothed my shirt, walking out my room and to the front door, putting on a pair of flats. I walked out and sighed, making my journey towards the Services Office, my already-filled form in my hand. The Services Office was only a few blocks away.

   The walk was pretty boring. It was normal. The sky was blue, the grass was green, the cement was gray... nothing exciting. When I got to the Services Office, there were a lot of people. And I mean a lot. I bit my lip as I walked to the line, going to the end.

   I looked around and saw many people in higher castes. Twos, Threes, and Fours all lining up with their clown faces and goofy gowns. I rolled my eyes at the sight and looked at the girl in front of me, dramatically fanning herself.

   "Ugh, it's so hot! Why couldn't they put the line, like, inside? This is no place for a Two," she said in her annoying voice. 

   The girl beside her nodded. "I know, right? Twos should be inside. We have a higher status than these poor people," she said, in her equally annoying voice.

   I glared at her and rolled my eyes. "At least poor people don't go walking around in public looking like clowns," I mumbled.

   Both the girls turned around to look at me. "Excuse me?" one said, stepping close to me. "What did you just say?" 

   I merely looked at her. "I said, 'At least poor people don't go walking around in public looking like clowns,'" I repeated.

   The other girl gasped. "You little brat!" she said, raising her hand to strike me.

   "That would be assault," I said.

   She froze and glared at me. "And? What will you do about it?"

   I smiled. "It's not about what I will do about it. It's what they will do about it," I said, pointing to the security guards.

   Both the girls looked over at the guards then back at me. They both rolled their eyes and turned around like nothing happened.

   I sighed and slowly looked to the front of the line, which was probably boy a hundred meters away. I huffed and looked behind me, spotting a group of girls coming towards the line. I bit my lip and wiped the sweat off my forehead, my hand getting soaked with sweat in the process. Well, I thought, this is going to be a long day...

Time Skip~

   I was finally at the front, smiling brightly as the girl in front of me took her picture. The photographer motioned for me, and I walked to him, smiling brightly. I handed him my form.

   "Good afternoon," I said softly.

   He looked at my form and smiled, putting it on top of the giant stack of forms. "Good afternoon. Now, I would like you to stand in front of that green screen and put your feet on the arrows, alright?"

   I nodded and did what I was told, standing in front of the huge camera. "Like this?" I said.

   The photographer smiled and looked into the camera. "Perfect. Now look into the lens and give me your brightest smile," he said.

   I smiled widely and looked into the camera, almost blinking because of the bright flash. I closed my eyes for a second after the picture, letting my eyes recover from the flash.

   "Perfect! Thank you," the photographer said, smiling at me.

   I smiled back and nodded, mumbling a quick 'thank you' to him as he motioned for the next girl. I walked out of the building, the pebbles crunching beneath my shoes. I walked towards the market, cocking my head when I saw a magazine with a girl on it. She had dark hair and a very... professional look.

   "'Celeste Newsome'," I read on the title. I picked the magazine up slowly, examining the cover. The shopkeeper looked at me, and I immediately put the magazine back, not wanting him to yell at me.

   I walked further into the market, gasping as I saw a little boy about seven years old getting hit by a man. The little boy had some bread in his hand, and his shirt was gone, his back red and bloodied. I watched as people started to crowd around him, mumbling and whispering.

   "Stupid Sixes," a person beside me whispered. "They don't have to steal food. They could just work, like us Fours."

   I closed my eyes. This was our world. Discriminated and judged by our ranks. Our numbers. By money.

   If only money didn't exist, I thought, walking away from the whispering crowd. I stopped in my tracks as looked behind me. Tears brimmed  my eyes as I heard the little boy scream in pain. I clenched my fists and dug my nails into my palms as people started to whisper about the boy again.

   "That poor little boy," a woman said to a man beside her, probably her husband.

   "Yeah. He is a poor boy," her husband replied.

   "Now, George, he's just a boy. They should've let him off the hook."

   "And let him steal again? The guards did the right thing, punishing the kid. If they didn't, he would've just stolen more bread! These lower castes need to be taught!" the husband growled.

   The woman ushered her husband away as some people from the lower castes yelled at him.

   I, however, walked away slowly, away from the crowd and the boy, my palms bloody because of my nails.

1081 words! Yay! I am SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry for not updating in such a long time! I've been REALLY busy with homework and other school work teachers give us. Anyways, I will try to update more! Have a wonderful day!


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