Chapter One
“Hannah Adrianne Steele, you are going to be late for your first day of work!” my mother screamed that first morning.
I groaned, setting some brown hair behind my ear and sitting up in bed. The sunlight streamed from my window, blinding my still half closed eyes. Stepping my feet onto the cold floor was the same as it always was.
Painful.
The floor sent shivers up and down my spine, flushing my skin from the shock. I stepped gingerly through the small house, and to the bathroom. Washing my face, I gasped at how cold the water was.
“At least it's waking me up," I mumbled, turning off the water and looking up to my reflection in the mirror. My green eyes were wide, my lips a light pink, and my skin tanned. My hair was partly in my face and partly everywhere else. Brushing my hair, I started walking over to my room again, my brown nightgown billowing around my knees in the light summer wind that welcomed itself into the house every day.
I changed into some jean shorts, a green tank top, a pair of brown construction boots, and the brown and green construction vest given to me at orientation. I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail, loving how it was so dark at the top but gradually became lighter, my tips a darker shade of blonde, and left my side bangs out and covering my eye. I quickly put on some eyeliner, grabbed an apple and my lunch, and ran out the door. I half-walked half-ran to the bus stop, the sun beating on my head and my feet almost sinking into the sand sidewalk. The bus was just about to leave when I got there. Walking up the steps, I noticed that I was not the only one going to work. About 5 other kids my age, 15, were on the bus and were wearing the vest. I sighed, sitting down next to a boy around a year or so older than me, wearing the uniform vest.
“Hi,” I smiled.
“Hey,” He grinned back at me, "is today your first day?"
I nodded.
"I've been one for two years... That stupid law... You know that 40 years ago, kids our age were still in school?"
“Yeah, it just doesn't seem fair. But still, our government seems to be working this way."
The boy nodded thoughtfully.
“Well, my name's Hannah."
“I'm Landon." I smiled and shook his hand gingerly.
He was tan, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.
Handsome.
The bus squealed to a stop in front of the 20 story building. It towered above all the rest of the houses, standing out against the brown and beige wood houses. The building was gray and punctured the clouds like a mountain, releasing black smog into the air. The kids on the bus piled out, Landon and I leading them.
We all continued to walk down the cobblestone walkway, stepping through the door and into the massive building. We were welcomed by a tall, stern looking woman, with blonde hair and abnormally pale skin. Her tight lips were painted a burgundy, her stone cold blue eyes enhanced with black eye liner. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, making her look older than she already looked. The only thing standing out in her gray outfit was her green badge.
“Good day, men and women. My name is Elena Whinthrope. You will call me either boss, ma'am, or Mrs. Whinthrope."
The group of kids murmured, stirring.
“You kids will be working here for the rest of your adolescence. Here, there are no sick days. There are no breaks."
She sauntered around us, sizing us up.
I looked to Landon. What I was expecting to see was a confident 17 year old with no fear, but what I saw instead was unnerving. Landon had a look of nervousness that came when you were about to break the law or do something that would probably end your life right then and there, like jump off a building. He looked more like a scared kid than a brave teen.
Needless to say, that didn't help me at all.
“You will have lunch while you work, and you will be on time or early to work, every day."
She stopped in front of me, staring me straight in the eyes.
“If you are even a minute late to work, you will be fired and your families will be forced to fend for themselves. Your entire family's fate lies on your shoulders." I stood with my head high, unmoving.
“Welcome to your first day as a tinker."
