Princess Isa.

Chapter One

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE IN TIME CHARACTERS SETS ETC ETC.

It's been a whole month since I had my run in with the minute men and nothing had come of it. Luckily on the day another timekeeper was sent searching for the timekeeper who was killed by the minutemen. The timekeeper, Timekeeper R. Leon, an old friend, had recognised me and helped me too the nearest hospital to patch me up. I had thanked Timekeeper Leon and paid him a month or two, much to his dismay. But then if he and Fortis never gave me the time or help I wouldn't be standing in my large studio apartment in the ghetto today.

I was a bit disappointed in the first week that I hadn't seen Fortis, which was odd. Why would a woman of my status, living in the ghetto, be disappointed that a minuteman hadn't visited her like he said? But then again many people of my status thought of me mad, wanting to run away from New Greenwich and off to the ghetto to love a normal life. But is that something so hard to ask for? A simple life with no luxuries and just calm.

I took a seat on my sofa in my apartment, I looked around it wasn't something special... Well special to me. It was just a simple apartment in one of the better parts of town. But then again this apartment is most likely the largest property in a hundred miles radius. I watch as the sun awakes from under my blinds making the room look brighter and larger then it did in the night. I sigh. I've had fifty years of waking up to the sun rise, I've had twenty-five twenty-fifth birthdays. Sometimes it gets kind of boring really, I couldn't be able to live like those in New Greenwich for hundreds of years a time. I get out of my arm chair checking my clock.

0000:00:1:00:59:00

One day and fifty-nine minutes, it's not enough. I needed to pay a few bills today and I didn't know when Fortis will be about to collect his payment. I walk towards my kitchen area in my apartment and kneel on the floor. I put my arm underneath the fridge, grasping hold of one if the many time collectors I had placed under there for safe keeping. I took it out to see it had a whole year on it, in the ghetto people would kill for this whereas I see it as nothing. I had well over five hundred years hidden in this apartment alone, and that's not including the time in the bank. I put the time collector against my wrist and take the time, my clock starts ticking up quickly to display the extra year I had just gained.

0001:00:1:00:56:00

I chuck the collector back under the fridge, I'll re-fill it with time next time I withdraw some from the bank. I turn the lights off and grab my coat off the hanger from the back of my door. Quickly slipping it over my black tube skirt and black vest, my work uniform, glance at the mirror next to my door. My natural black hair cut to just under my chin was wavy and wild, my strong but yet soft jaw line complemented my pale features. Also my deep green eyes which just finished off my look without needing make up. I smile and open the front door up to walk through the streets of the ghetto of Dayton.

As I walk down one of the main streets of Dayton I walk past the time loaners or what really should be the bank if anyone had any money around here. Weis. The owner of most of the banks around the world, or mostly the ghetto time zones, was owned by a man named Philippe Weis. I knew Philippe from New Greenwich, I didn't like him then nor do I like him now. On each and every loan he gave out to the poor people living out in the ghetto he'd put a large amount of interest onto it, just to rub salt into the wound that the poor must stay poor for the rich to live forever. As I walk down the street I see a body laying limp on the ground, I glance at the persons wrist. 13 zeros.

0000:00:0:00:00:00

The poor woman must've timed out before they could've got more time. This was a day to day thing in the ghetto to find a dead body on the floor from timing out, whereas back in New Greenwich if someone had timed out it was seen as a scandal no matter what had happened. Sickening. I glance up to look around at anyone's faces which I would recognise. Then I see a good friend of mine who first helped me out when I moved to the ghetto, I'll always be grateful to her.