Roma

We are the lucky ones. We can live our lives safe and worry-free; hiding behind fake smiles, elaborate homes with chandeliers, and rows of family history that stare glumly at you when you walk past to go to bed every night. We are limitless. We are the Uppers; we are fortunate; we are superior.

I questioned that now, as I stared across the dark, cherry wood dining table at mother and father. It looked like we were all strangers set on our own goals, leading separate lives. The food tasted sad. The table had a silence that was empty, since it was devoid of any embarrassing or angry feelings. I had more conversation when I was ten and having tea with my stuffed bears who could not even talk back. I stared at my parents who refused to look at each other and simply ate their Greenland shark with impeccable table manners: a little slice there, a napkin dab there, a graceful scoop there. Nothing spilled. Nothing unusual. It was always the same motions. Father's shining blonde hair, mother's shining blonde hair, my own shining blonde hair together glittered from the lights of the chandelier. A beautiful family of dolls.

"Helena if you do not wish to eat please have Miss Lisa take your plate," mother said softly between bites of her risotto di Bruscandoli without even looking at me.

I nodded and waved Miss Lisa over to take my plate. She was a rounder woman with pock scars and gentle brown eyes probably in her forties; I only knew I wasn't supposed to talk to her. She made delicious lingonberry jam. "Excuse me, mother, father." I bowed to my parents and left the table, sweeping, graceful, always the same motion.

While my parents continued to eat their silent dinner I would always sneak out the back door newly dressed in old, tattered clothing. It was a routine my friends and I started last month while coming home from extra lessons.

Every Wednesday at seven we would venture into the Lower section and have dinner there. Although it was dangerous and I could get into a lot of trouble, I wanted to go. It was better to eat with friends than with dolls after all. Although I respected my parents, I felt no real love for them since they stopped being parents long ago. Now they were just a presence in a big, empty house.

I took the back way to the Lower town since going through the main Upper city looking like I did would definitely alert the street watchmen. I still remember the time when I was seven and accidentally ran into one of the store watchmen. They tilted their head down at me and I could see their wide, blank eyes through their helmet. They smiled like they would eat me for dinner and I ran to grab onto mother's skirt. She reprimanded me for being uncivil on the main street where anyone could see and I had to study Latin for an extra hour that day. I always had extra lessons, since I was always uncivil, and not a good, proper, and diligent child.

The way riots were starting nowadays, I didn't want to be part of it. Eleven Uppers in my class died in a few of the riots within the month, so I wasn't going to take any chances on the main street. I tucked a strand of my golden hair back into the hat I was wearing and walked faster to the meeting spot.

I saw that my two friends were already there waiting in our usual spot in front of Old Man Caesar's Bookstore. True to the name, it actually was an old man who ran the bookstore. He was neutral ground, bookstores like his were always a place that Uppers and Lowers both went. We always met there because it was safe, and we could regroup without fear of being found out. I waved to my friends and we walked into the Lower section together.

We tried to never make eye contact with the residents in the Lower section and never strayed too far from a quick sprint back to the Upper side. We were paranoid, but it was reasonable since the Lowers have killed us before. The more time we spent on the street we became increasingly more nervous. The clothes were only a slight illusion. Our speech, our walk, even our presence was different from the Lowers and it would not be difficult to see through.