Wall Maria
Wall Rosa
Wall Sina
Three slabs of stone that kept the rest of the human race from being erased from existence. The tall white stone towered on every horizon, caging humanity inside.
For a century, there was peace, and the walls were indestructible.
But if there's something I always found unsettling, it was that no one knew anything about them.
And perhaps, that's for the best.
In the central market, I quickly latched onto a Small wallet, taking the money inside it, and giving it back to its owner; a fat woman with a large mole on her cheek, and curly, bright yellow hair.
The bills fell into my pocket, and I straightened my back, swiftly stepping into an alleyway.
I made my way up an old set of rickety stairs, that were covered in ivy and dark orange rust, a creak resounding with each of my careful steps. My feet landed on the windowsill of an abandoned third-floor attic.
My stolen boots made curved marks on the windowsill, and I hoisted myself up, soundlessly jumping into my small living-space.
Inside, there was a broken chair, the floral pattern busted open along each arm, white fluff pouring out of the seams. The only other contents of the room were a medium-sized cabinet, a jar full of bills identical to the ones in my pocket, and a pillow and blanket folded in one of the corners.
A few books were stacked near the pillow.
Moby Dick
A study of mathematics
Organisms of Earth
All books from before the walls were outlawed.
But then again, I don't really play by the rules, do I?
I sat in the chair, dust particles swarming in the small ray of light that came in from the musty window.
I looked (mostly) like your average inner-most-wall citizen.
Grey slacks fell from my waist, and a white shirt hung around my shoulders, accompanied with a black trench jacket I had gotten from the back of a chair a few weeks ago.
Medium-length white, slightly grey stained hair fell in loose waves from my scalp, and dull blue, icy eyes that were almost white, smirked from thier places in my eye sockets.
I had four dark freckles on my face; one on my forehead, one on my chin, and one on either cheek, making a cross.
How ironic.
Any other citizen from inside Sina would see me as one of THEM.
But the underground citizens of Sina knew me better.
The sun began to set, and I pulled my civilian clothes off, placing a white dress shirt on my shoulders, and pushing my hair up into a hooded cloak.
As the last rays of light disappeared behind the walls, I caught hold of the window ledge with one hand, flipping myself up onto the roof, the shingles still warm to the touch.
My foot-falls were almost unheard, and I calmly ran for one rooftop to another, hands in my pockets.
There was a doorway into the underground, and I silently swung inside, my feet falling on the damp cement.
My hood fell down, un sheathing my hair, and my appearance. I traced my fingers along one of the side sofa dark tunnel, making my way in the pitch-black of the tunnels.
Along a path that I knew so well.
In the center-most level of the underground city, a bright light escaped from around a corner, and the sound of jeering, bargaining and the clatter of coins intensified. I pulled a few bills from my pocket, and quickly put them into my pant pocket, away from the other thieves there, much like myself.
In the black market, honour amongst thieves didn't exist.
----------------------------
Please remember that in this story, Levi is 19.
