The Separation

prolouge

For years, people have assumed their importance in the world based on the amount of land or money they had, and their appearances.

The camps were designed to seclude the rich from the poor. We called this, the separation.

The rules were simple:
1) You did not cause a rebellion.
2) You were to stay where you were placed.
and most importantly,
3) You were to never interact with the elites.

The founding fathers of the Experimental Poverty Lines, as they liked to call it, set these rules with consequences that only the courageous dared to discover.

The elites were the people who owned the fancy cars and mansions and the helicopters and private jets. The ones who ate out at the fanciest restaurants. The ones who dressed for show.

The camps were divided into random groups. There was no pattern to what the founding fathers did. My camp consisted of mainly teenagers and a handful of adults and children under the age of seven. Families were divided, along with friends. Mothers and fathers with an indefinite fate to never see their children. Husbands and wives to never hold one another.

We were forced to move on, start new lives. Whatever happened before the lines was to be forgotten. Erased from our memories, it was the most impossible task.

They told us it was supposed to be an experiment, a nation-wide involvement, a temporary thing. It would only be running for seven and a half weeks, "it will be over before you know it."

Or so we thought.