The streets were packed. More so than she'd had ever seen them. A long line of teenage girls stretched down the dirty roads so far it was seemingly endless.
She rolled eyes at the pointlessness of it all.
It was a new Selection. A Selection for prince Calin, who was turning 19 soon. A Selection Marci definitely wanted nothing to do with.
Then again, even if her only wish in the world was to participate, its not like she would be able to. That's what life is like as an eight. The lowest of the low, so far down you wouldn't even be considered someone who could stand a chance to win a competition like The Selection.
She sat and watched from the dank and musty alleyways with the other eights as the pretty girl in pretty clothes waited their turn for a chance of riches and ballgowns.
She heard a snort from behind and felt a slight shove on her shoulder. Marci turned and grinned at Kline. "I thought you were out pickin' some of those fancy two's parading around. Not sitting and staring at this sorry line of clones." He said glancing at a trio of three blondes all bouncing around and raking fingers through their luscious curls.
She leaned against the dirty brick, "Just thinkin' is all." She glanced back at Kline's lanky figure again. They had been friends since childhood.
Two eights born into a shitty world in a shitty place during shitty times. Kline started living with her and her mother only 7 months after we'd found a proper living space. Her mom had found him on the steps of the abandoned church covered in a thin blanket, abandoned by his family for his twisted ankle.
They fought, they cried, they laughed, they were partners in crime. Together til the end. Family.
"Oh you better not tell them Uppers about an eight thinkin', we're just supposed to use our brains to think about our uselessness all day." He replied with a smirk.
She turned back to the awaiting girls. "I was just wondering... What do you think it's like?"
His head cocked to the side as he stared, "What do I think what's like?"
"Ya know. Bein' able to hope things'll get better. Bein' able to dream." The pretty girls muttered and gossiped, whispering to one another about the little things Marceline couldn't begin to imagine. Things she would never understand, things she would never be able to experience.
Even the life of a seven was heaven compared that of an eights. Sickness spread like wildfire through the cramped streets. And any real job was rarer to come by than diamond. Any form of cleaning had to be done at the lakes 15 miles north making bathing a yearly activity.
The Illian government provided nothing for them, as unnoticeable as a speck of dust brushed into the corner.
"I guess it's what freedom is. Not having to worry about dying of a cold or your stomach caving in on itself. Bein' able to focus on the little things."
They both gazed at the smiling girls, wearing clean clothes in the sunlight of our Kent summers while hiding in the deep alleyway shadows. It only took one look to know not one of them would ever know what its like to live like they did.
If you could even consider is living.
She turned and stared up at his dirt-covered face and he stared at hers, "Even though there are cockroaches with better lives then ours, i'm not sad."
"What do you mean?" He said quieter than expected.
"I've got nothin' to hope for. Because I know there's nothin' waiting for us over that horizon and I know you're all I've got, and I'm all you've got. And even though I know we're far from happy, we definitely ain't sad either." She grinned.
YOU ARE READING
Eight
Fanfiction~•~ A Selection Novel ~•~ Marceline Price had been an Eight for as long as she could remember. Living in the basement of an old Five couple who were too old to take care of themselves. She'd become so accustomed to the a live coated in dirt that w...
