Divided. (Harry Styles)

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A/N: Thanks for opening this story:).

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-Felicity Green- 

There was a shivering chill that travelled throughout my body when my feet came into contact with the hard wooden floor beneath my bed; a bed that unfortunately only consisted of a thin mattress and a blanket. The cold frost in the London air was heavy and awfully noticable this morning and as a reasult took it's toll on the temperature of my small home.

Having arisen from what seemed a poor excuse for a bed, I made my way to the corner of my room where a small pile of clothes sat. Little else took up the small space as belongings were scarce, the thought of even a cupboard in the room seemed to be a distant, luxurious dream . My shaking hands collected a black t-shirt before pulling it over my head and hauling some plain trousers up my legs. The blonde waves of my hair had become knotted and as a result caused my eyes to water as I ran a comb through the strands, gathering the hair and collecting it into a ponytail.

Having dressed, I sighed. The completion of such a small task was only a reminder of the dreaded day that was today. My feet dragged me towards the small kitchen at our home and I was instantly greeted by my mother and Zac, my nine year old brother.

"Happy Birthday sweetie," my mother exclaimed. She was standing near the stove, cooking breakfast and Zac having noticed my presence, ran up to me and threw his arms around my waist in a warming hug. My mother's well meant words of wishing me a happy birthday were not taken like they would to most. For me, turning 18 had been dreaded for as long as I could remember.

"You say as if it is something that should be celebrated," I answered to my mother.

"I know you have to start in the Halfway Point today but it's still your birthday, every birthday should be celebrated," she replied. Sometimes I wondered how she managed to see the positive in every situation, no matter how negative. I gave her a weak smile in response before she handed me a steaming cup of tea and a bowl of soup as I sat down at the small wooden table.

The Halfway Point; the centre of London. There was so much ambiguity regarding the city, but what I did know had caused me nothing but worry. What I had been told was little more than that the city had been divided into two after a spate of riots. The government had seen the riots as the utmost betrayal and as a result split the city into two; rich and poor. The rich were left with a life of normality and the best luxury in what was known as the Upper Half where as the poor, the likes of me, were left in the Lower Half with not a penny to our name and barely a belonging in sight. 

There was no denying that inflicted upon the Lower Half residents was terror; for physical punishments were almost second nature. As well as that, was the Halfway Point, the only place rich and poor were ever to meet. Every child was sent to work there as soon as they turned 18, which for me, was today. I had no idea what was to happen and possibly, it was this that scared me the most. Not to mention, the horrifying stories that would be heard around here of the treatment that Halfway Point workers had to face.

"I wish you didn't have to go today," a small voice said from my side, diverting my attention. I turned to face Zac who was looking at me sadly.

"I don't want to go either," I replied truthfuly. "But I have to. I should be back at the end of every day though," I said reassuringly.

"Promise?" he asked.

"I promise," I muttered. He gave me a quick nod before leaving the room.

He was only nine and being his older sister I had always felt close to him and protective, even more so due to the fact he was only 3 when we were divided ad had lost our belongings. We'd also lost our father but I wasn't convinced that what I had been told regarding his wherabouts was the truth. He'd supposedly been killed in the riots, and I had never been told how, only that he died.