Young Writers Society

Life. It can last a mere few seconds or years. Death. It can come at any second. It does not care whether you are sad or happy, whether you are young or old, and stopping it is impossible. You can put it off, but never forever. It strikes as disease, starvation, others, and it is there every day. It is your life. Yet, it might seem pointless we fight. We make cures, capture criminals and try to prevent the inevitable.

Now it is the end. Generation after generation put the problems off celebrating at the small achievements, but it was never enough. Some say our escape is space some say else.

The environment has been crushed, the population has peaked. The planet is either flooded or burnt. People murder and steal.

Hope has become a thing of the past.

Now it's your turn.

Have fun.

These were the words we heard every morning until we have them memorized and knew their meaning without question. We lived in a broken world and no one tried to hide it from us. But no one had ever tried to fix it either, and we weren't encouraged to. We were told to accept our fate and move on.

So that’s what I’d always done. My parents disappeared as soon as I turned thirteen, tired of taking care of me and my three younger siblings. There used to be a time when the government would have stopped it. But now it was just a common occurrence.

Most girls fell to prostitution, many sold, but I guess my parents cared enough to not do that to me. I could appreciate that. Although, it seemed more likely they needed someone to drop the responsibility of caring for my siblings on.

I saw them only once after that, two years later. They didn’t give my sister the same courtesy as me. They found us, took her, and traded her for money that they wasted quickly. Their names were among those on the death pages a few weeks later.

Sometimes, a lot of the time, I had been tempted to move on too, but something deep down held me back. Maybe it was some semblance of being a good person, something society no longer cared for. But I didn’t leave my two leftover brothers.

I could tell Braden wouldn’t be sticking around for much longer. He’d joined a gang around the same time our parents left. I was still surprised that they’d let him stay with me for four years. Most likely they wanted every advantage in numbers. I guess his gang was decent though. I’d met a few members over the years and found them ok although they tended to only hit on me. But what else would I expect, society was definitely sexist, I had no chance of gaining respect from any man or boy.

Braden would take Liam with him and I knew it’d happen as soon as Liam turned ten. They wouldn’t accept those younger, a gang rule.

Without them I would be free of any worries except keeping myself alive. I’d be able to attend school more often, having to spend less time stealing with only one mouth to feed. Few bothered with school at all, except the rich, but I’d always gone. Another trait I blamed on being ‘good’. Another thing that I’d survive better without, but I couldn’t seem to completely drop it.

After the announcement ended security let us in, not bothering to turn on the metal detectors or let the drug dog out of its cage. Some mornings I’d wondered if it was still alive, but it always barked at Braden and my question would be answered.

Braden rarely entered any classroom, unless there was a gang client inside. The majority of the time he spent by the back, waiting around with his buds until someone came along for them to pick on.

He quickly patted my back, only meeting my dark eyes with his for a second before stalking off. He was tall, strong, good-looking, and compared to the majority of people he passed he was dressed exceptionally. His all-black attire matched his hair, and his attitude not that he needed it. His reputation within the gang was bad enough to make everyone take a few steps back.

They stayed away from me too and I knew it was because of him. Along with his daily pat on my back it was how he showed his appreciation for me. But it wasn’t love, just a small acknowledgement that I wasn’t the worst sister he could’ve had.

Still, I soon found myself jumping with uncomfortability when a guy’s hand brushed against my ass. Where Braden was handsome and it earned him respect I was beautiful and it was a curse. Even my brother’s threats couldn’t stop all of the daily advances.

I didn’t risk turning and telling the boy off, it wouldn’t do anything except make it worse. I could fight him off, even any friends he had, but even his enemies would join in. Nothing like putting a girl in her place could hype up the people at our school in such a way.

So I slipped further into the crowds until I found my classroom. It was dark, and only one other person was there. I took my place in the back corner and began my daily ritual of watching him.

He was one of the largest mysteries in the entire school. Everything from his perfectly styled blond hair to his freshly pressed suit made him stick out. He was a rich kid in one of the worst pieces of trash that someone had decided to call a school. He’d arrived at the beginning of the year and at first everyone had tried to get a piece of him, but two large men always would appear, blocking the fists and teeth.

No one else had entered the classroom, but the bell rang and the room lit up with light coming from the cracked screen at the front. The teacher’s voice came through the only working speaker just above my head as they began class. It was automated and stiff, cracking every few words. I ignored the pointless math lesson continuing to watch the boy.

He had pulled out a notebook from his perfect bag and scribbled away, actually doing the problems. I bet he was the only person in the school who knew how to actually do them. I’d missed too much school to keep up and then honestly who cared?

There were only two classes I ever listened in; current events and history. Both were hella depressing, but for some reason I forced myself to them every day.

The bell rang again an hour later and the boy moved swiftly, packing his stuff back up and leaving his seat. He didn’t acknowledge me as he left the room and I was glad. My only encounters with people like him had always ended in me turning away their propositions and money.

I’d wondered why the boy didn’t go to the nearby private school. It had real security so he wouldn’t need his own following his every move and it even had real teachers instead of computers, at least that’s what I’d heard.

I followed the boy out of the room, quickly losing him in the crowd, not that I really cared. When I got close to my English class I heard shouts louder than normal, with only one possible meaning, a good fight. I kept my distance not caring to see the blood being spilt, or my brother’s face which would inevitably be close by it.

The English room was filled with more people than normal, those that like me wished to escape the violence. The screen was already lit, the morning announcement on it with a small prompt telling us to analyse it. It only meant one thing to me, still no word from the government that month. That was the only time this screen ever changed, giving us a couple new paragraphs, but always just as hopeless.

Tired, I left through the door I’d just entered and followed the noise from earlier. As I walked I ensured to tuck any valuables further into my bag, not that I really had many anyway. These fights gave me a perfect opportunity to pick a few pockets.

Most people were smart like me, knowing to tuck away anything of value, but there was always the inexperienced, or on a good day the fight would be interesting enough to make even the smartest forgetful. I could tell that this fight was one of those days.

I made sure to keep my eyes down more diligently than normal, avoiding the extra gore that would be at the center of the mass of people. From the whispers of the people I stole from I could tell a guy had been stabbed, but he was still alive. A hand full of money later he wasn’t. I worked quickly, knowing that people would soon be losing interest.

As I reached into the bag that I had planned to be my last I felt eyes on me. Immediately I withdrew my hand, slipping behind a few guys while cursing my long legs for making it so difficult to hide myself. The feeling of being watched didn’t stop. After moving further into the crowd I risked turning around to find my watcher.

It took me half a minute, but I saw the boy. The one whom I had been watching in math not long before. He was careful in the way he observed me, not directly, but out of the corner of his eye. When he noticed me noticing him a small grin appeared on his lips before he turned, leaving the fight with his guards in toe.

I was already turning away, determined on escaping when he motioned carefully. Immediately, I felt my eyebrows shoot up in confusion. He turned toward me repeating the action that seemed to command me to follow him. My eyes immediately flashed to one of his terrifying guards. Catching my fear he turned to the men, whispered something, and within a second both were gone.

He didn’t wait any longer before repeating the action for the third time. I followed, going against every whispering in my mind. He walked into a small hallway, empty, and missing many lights making it dark. Halfway down he stopped, facing me with only a few yards of space between us.

“How do you know I’m not gonna kill you while your guards are gone?” I spoke without thinking, my voice serious and uncaring. He laughed.

Everything changed with his laugh. I hadn’t seen his face much before then, only ever watching the back of his blond head, but I still knew it, or at least I thought I did. Much like Braden I knew he was one of those naturally handsome people, without a doubt, but facing him it seemed terrifyingly so. His blue eyes lit up beautifully and his features crinkled in just the right way.

“I’ll pay you everything I earned to keep your mouth shut.” I knew my attempt was stupid even before he began to laugh again. Why would he want my dirty stolen money? Even with the more distracting fight I’d only earned less than a hundred. He probably had millions of dollars sitting in his pockets right then.

“Ok maybe not, but you can’t tell anyone,” I continued, hoping that I could in some way convince him to not turn me in.

I wasn't scared of the police, they wouldn’t care. The money was probably stolen from someone else that morning, and chances are that person stole it too, or made it by selling something illegal. But if the people I stole from were told I doubt I’d make it home that night, instead finding myself in a similar situation to the boy who’d been fighting.

At this point I was getting desperate. I stepped closer to the boy.

“Please, I have siblings I need to take care of. If I don’t make it home they won’t survive the night.” I hated pulling the pity card and I’d deny it ever happened, but I still cared for my life, even if in this world it was pointless. My words were also lies. My brothers would be fine without me, but no point spilling that now.

I was about to try again when the boy finally spoke. “Hello. I’m Lucas,” his voice was deep, smooth, and almost made me forget I was in trouble. I really shouldn’t have followed him. I shouldn’t have even risked leaving class to go to the fight.

“You really shouldn’t go around lying Kera. It ruins any sort of appeal that your body may give you.” He was calm, unlike me. I could feel hatred begin to make my eyes burn into his features.

“How the hell do you know my name?” I moved closer to him quickly, jabbing my finger into his chest accusingly.

His laughter returned. “Your brother is in the Dorshadass and thanks to his little threats everyone knows who you are.” He looked down on me as he speaks, something few were capable of doing because of my height. “Which is also why I know you are a liar. Your siblings will be just fine if I expose you for your thievery.”

I opened my mouth to speak again, to yell again, but he stopped me with a finger placed on my lips.

“I would hold that nasty little mouth if I were you. If you continue how you have, I might not be so inclined to help you survive the day.”

Stepping away from him I glared. I’d always watched him with a curiosity because I thought he was different. Instead of skipping class, fighting, and doing things like the rest he’d always been different. I’d thought he was better, but I could tell that was a stupid assumption because he was just as much of an asshole as everyone else.

I swiftly reached into my jean pocket. I didn’t care anymore. Neither my inner good nor thoughts of the guards who were likely just around the corner controlled me. Instead, I was accepting the darkness everyone else always did. I had stepped up close to him again and had the knife halfway to his throat before he caught my wrist.

“Damn. Where did you get this thing?” He asked easily plucking it from my hand.

A darkness to match my hair and eyes had filled me by this point and I was ready to fight when suddenly I was pulled out of it, my brother’s voice calling down the short hallway.

“Kera?” It was a question. I turned my head to him and he immediately moved, halfway to me and Lucas before continuing. “Let go of my sister Moriigan.”

There were a few other guys behind him, one of which hands pulled my attention. The red blood stood out against their dark skin. He’d been the one to stab the poor bastard earlier. Looking up at his face I found it familiar. He was my age and had been the one to recruit my brother. He also controlled the Dorshadass within our school.

My brother was to me and Lucas now. Nothing more than pure hatred across his features, it made me feel cared for.

“I said. Let. My sister. Go,” he repeated his voice rough and deep.

Lucas dropped my wrist after giving it one last squeeze, it felt like hell.

Braden quickly wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Even though he was two years younger he was a few inches taller. “Don’t touch her again.” He commanded, giving Lucas a glare before turning away, pulling me along with him.

We were at the end of the hall when Lucas spoke, “Kera. Don’t you want this back?” I turned my head to see him dangling my knife between his fingers.

“You’ll want that in the case you ever go near her again,” Braden threatened strong and clear. I couldn’t help the smile that appeared on my face because I couldn’t have said it better myself.

My smile disappeared as soon as we made it around the corner. I was ripped from under Braden‘s arm, a bloody hand finding its way onto my exposed shoulder. The red stood out against my pale skin. In that moment I would have preferred to have a jacket on and ruined. I quickly tried to shake Oliver off and failed.

“Sweetheart you should be thanking me. I know how.” He whispered slowly, his voice nothing like Braden’s or even Lucas’. It was pure torture to hear, and it, along with his quickly wandering hand, gave me renewed reason to escape.

I moved closer, facing him, and he smiled thinking he’d won. “You didn’t do anything,” I said sweetly, only briefly tricking him into a sense of security, but before he processed my words I acted.

My fist found his diaphragm easily, knocking the wind out of him and before he could even attempt to breathe my knee found it’s target making him collapse onto the ground.

“Don’t ever call me sweetheart again.” I sneered, tempted to hit him again, but I held back. Facing Braden I took in his smile and returned it with one of my own. “I’m going home.” He nodded in approval before approaching Oliver and offering him a hand up.

“Bitch!” Oliver shouted after me.

“True.” I laughed back.

“You deserve to be in a whore house.” His stupid voice continued.

Before I could even stop walking I heard a fist connect with face. I knew this fight wouldn’t end quickly, but once it did Oliver wouldn’t be in control anymore. It was about time Braden stopped being the second in command, he had been strong enough for over a year.

Smiling once again I moved on, done with the hellhole of school for the day.