Separated By Status

-Chapter 1-

-Chapter 1-

Harry twists the tap of the water close with a squeak and lift the heavy water can off the ground. Huffing out a breath, I use both hands and carry the rusty blue metal towards my little strawberry plants that just never seem to grow. 

None of these plants actually end up growing, the ones that do only stay ripe for a couple days then rot away, covering our little garden with fruit flies that buzz in your ear and make you shiver. 

His other crops were barley and eggplant- his family has grown them for generations and they have all the knowledge and tips passed down from dads to sons, or moms to daughters, though the moms were typically the ones who worked in our little petite home, sewing us warm clothes and cooking some food that were rarely ever found. The tips that his father had told him when he was eleven, never seemed to work though. It was like whatever he did never really had these damn plants growing. 

"The best fertilizer," Harry's father had begun to say, looking at him with his similar green eyes, "has got to be cow poop." Harry scrunches his nose in distaste. 

"Cow poop?! Ewww." 

Ever since that day, it was Harry's job to go to the neighbours and shovel up some of their cows' poop, tossing it in a bag and trying hard not to throw up. Harry was definitely not very fond of the job but he had no choice but to do it. 

He slowly tip the bucket over and watch as the murky water pitters down onto the dry soil, sinking into it deadly fast. From the right, he could hear the neighbours' children running up and down the colony, screaming random sentences he couldn't understand. Other than that, the sky was actually shining for once, the warm sunlight was shining down onto my pale arms. If he didn't have any work to do today, Harry would definitely be sitting in the sun with my best bud, Zayn, trying to work up a tan. Though Zayn's parents were already tan, Zayn was more of the opposite. He was very pale and from the lackage of sleep and the deep circles under his eyes clearly evident, he seemed even more white. 

In his head, Harry silently starts counting the days until the king's men would come around and hand us our money for the crops we had grown. Three days. I small smile flutters across my face as I remember that only three more days of starving and relying on murky water and strawberries, and then would we have an actual meal, like a boiled potato. 

You may think that even in all these circumstances Harry was fed up with life and just wanted to leave- but Harry was far from that, he was grateful for what he had. He had an amazing mother who loved him to bits, a sister whom he could talk to about anything and banter with, but at the end of the day were still the bestest of friends. He had a house- though it was small- but Harry kept reminding himself everyday, "Better than nothing" He had to constantly remind himself that there were people out in the world who didn't have a place to stay, or even have a mother for god's sake. So yes, after every evening, Harry would get on his knees and thank whoever was out there for the food, for this life, for a wonderful family. 

People in his colony thought he was crazy, but Harry liked to refer to them as "Negative assholes," since they never did anything but complain and whine. 

"Oi! Harold!" 

Harry snap his head towards the direction of the voice and watch as Zayn trots his way over to him, his hair spiked up into a slight quiff and a ripped tshirt pulled on top of his toned torso, tattoos peeking out. He smirks when he sees him pouring little amounts of water onto his shitty strawberries.

"Workin' hard, I see." Zayn smiles at him teasingly and Harry hip-bones him making him yelp. 

"Without hard work, you won't survive," he state as a matter of factly, moving over to his barley plants. Zayn tsk's and shakes his head.