Optimistic coincidence

Section 1 part 3

"ah Lanke!" he said it wrong again. "2099 if I'm not mistaken, right?" i gave a swift nod as he sorted through the lists of numbers on his sheets. In the canteen it was harder to call people out by their numbers, especially because of the big echoing room and the amount of noise the other three sections who were still left in the canteen made.

"can i step through." i said solemnly, not making eye contact with him but instead peering over my shoulder to find Erick. he had gone. i frowned slightly and looked to my side. he hadn't gone, he was in the scanner beside mine. i inwardly sighed with relief and took a step forward "be my guest. I'm watching you." i shot him a glare as i watched the grin plaster upon his lips. no i told myself that's what he wants.

i stepped through the machine waiting for the all clear, and as soon as i got it i caught up with Erick. "seems the other two kids left you?" he told me, itching his bare chest.
"yeah, seems like it." i replied with a nod, swallowing, although we were all in seperate classes so it didn't matter all that much. "so," i started, my eyes still flicking around as we made our way to the work rooms "what happened next?" the boy sighed once again and i looked down at him. his rib cage looked as if it would tare out of his skin at any moment. "i think you could probably guess that part.." he spoke reluctantly, starting to pick up his pace. "how'd you get the bruises?" he flinched as soon as the words slipped out of my mouth. had i said something wrong? it was hard to tell, but it had effected him in some way as he didn't reply, and i was not going to force it out of him.

the work rooms. they were only called that for section 1 and section 5 because that's where they worked and learnt. the work rooms were divided into 6 different segments. there were around 300 of us so half of us were workers and the other half creators. they then were split into 3 different groups of around 50 and we were all given work to do. sometimes the work load would be hard and sometimes not, but the money we were paid depended on how much effort you put into it.

On a good day i would bargain about £50 for the 7 hours i worked a day. and on bad days, well, less than half. it was a good amount to live on and it wasn't as if i had to care for family or anything. family. it felt strange to say it. i vaguely remembered my dads. i mean they must have left before my second birthday. so young. but then everyone's family was so young. after that they were all put into section X to become elders, hardly any elders were elected president here, our section was strongly against them.

and that was another thing. elections. each section had their own constituency. a lot of the time the individual sections were the constituency, but now and again they'd get the odd person who didn't agree with their own section. most of the people who stood up for what they believed in got shunned, and in extreme cases were lashed. the president, along with the council, were the ones who designed the home guard section. so of course all of them would vote for the same council and president again. a lot of us wanted change but we wouldn't get it without violence and riots, so we stepped down and decided to let others make the decisions for us. i just hoped one day an elder would actually stand a chance and win the votes, because with a council of young people who legalised drugs and allowed the looking down rule, our generation would be a bunch of fools.

Me and Erick went our seperate ways to attend our different classes. i was a creator, which was a much more challenging task than being a worker. a lot of the time all they had to do was clean and serve in the canteen, so their wages were much lower than the average creator.

walking into my class of around 50, i noticed Carl straight away, chatting up some young lads who seemed to be flirting back with him. i rolled my eyes avoiding him as i made my way to the changing rooms at the back.

"d'you hear about that guy who got flogged for standing up for hetro rights?" a man said in a low tone as i walked over to my locker. "yeah, apparently he's shunned by work colleagues and shit, and everyone spits on him." i remained quiet as i grabbed my t-shirt, dirty orange dungarees and dark laced boots from the locker and started to change. "i think he should be chucked out with the F's." a deep voice spoke up. it was then i twisted my head slightly to watch the two men gossiping.