way. I had work all day today. I felt like my life was being devoted to picking up after people who couldn’t or wouldn’t do it themselves. I had a very strong feeling that my entire life would be like this, unless I was lucky enough to retire in old age, which was unlikely.
My mom was already gone when I walked into the kitchen, tore off a chunk of bread from the loaf she bought last night, and slathered on some butter that had been left out overnight. This buttered piece of bread would be all I’d eat until I finished my shift. My boss, Mr. Kriegle, didn’t usually give us anything in terms of free food, not even the scraps customers left behind. Sometimes I thought he’d rather throw the food away and let the rats eat it instead of giving his workers anything. I guess he considered it a handout if he gave the food to us.
I quickly tore through the bread, making sure I didn’t lose but a crumb. Saraia stumbled out of the room, her hair a mess, as she rubbed the crust off her eyes with her hands and squinted, looking right at me.
“Where’s mom?” she asked.
“She’s at work. What do you need?” I asked.
“I need to get ready for school. Are you taking me today?” she asked.
“Yes, I am. Go get ready, but make it quick. I need to get ready as well,” I said.
She nodded and went into the room to grab her uniform. All of the schools in the city required uniforms. Some had better ones than others, depending on the school, and all of the kids from lower income families wore hand-me-downs or worn out uniforms from the other, richer neighborhoods. Saraia was no stranger to that, and all of her uniforms were either ones I used to wear, or ones my mom got for cheap from the rations store.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked thirty-five minutes later, as she was collecting her belongings in the room.
“One minute,” she yelled back, the ruffling sound of her bag spilling out into the kitchen.
I grabbed my bracelet and clasped it around my left wrist. It was my grandma’s and she gave it to me. I always wore it, no matter where I went, even to work. It was a part of me, and I never wanted to let it go. Besides, only good things could happen to me while I was wearing it. She told me it was lucky.
“Okay,” Saraia said as she walked out of the bedroom, her backpack hanging off of her, a little too big for her frame.
I grabbed my keys, we walked out the front door, and I locked it behind me. I jiggled the doorknob to make sure it was secured, which sometimes it wasn’t. It was this time, and we walked down the steps. Saraia grabbed my hand when we got onto the sidewalk, and off we went for the fifteen-minute walk to her school. Thankfully it was in the same general direction that I needed to go to get to work.
Although the skies were always gray, it was particularly overcast today. Some days there were thin rays of sunshine that were like small bits of heaven breaking through the dark, brooding clouds. Sadly enough, today wasn’t one of those days.
Saraia and I were at a corner, patiently waiting for the light to change so we could walk, when she nudged me, slyly pointing to a man standing in an alleyway nearby. He looked a little suspicious, constantly glancing over his shoulder, like he was expecting somebody, or something, to be there. I saw a kid walk by him, and the man stopped him. I kept a close eye on him, wondering if he was going to start any kind of trouble.
He opened his jacket, and I could see something metallic and shiny hanging inside. At that moment, I knew what he was doing. He had a skimmer in his jacket, held up by a fabric sling, neatly hidden away because of the consequences of having such a device.
Skimmers were illegal, and he definitely knew it. They were dark metal devices, a wristband of sorts, that you wore in WorldNet. They allowed you to hack through the network with special cards that I was guessing the guy was likely also carrying. I had heard about skimmers in school
My mom was already gone when I walked into the kitchen, tore off a chunk of bread from the loaf she bought last night, and slathered on some butter that had been left out overnight. This buttered piece of bread would be all I’d eat until I finished my shift. My boss, Mr. Kriegle, didn’t usually give us anything in terms of free food, not even the scraps customers left behind. Sometimes I thought he’d rather throw the food away and let the rats eat it instead of giving his workers anything. I guess he considered it a handout if he gave the food to us.
I quickly tore through the bread, making sure I didn’t lose but a crumb. Saraia stumbled out of the room, her hair a mess, as she rubbed the crust off her eyes with her hands and squinted, looking right at me.
“Where’s mom?” she asked.
“She’s at work. What do you need?” I asked.
“I need to get ready for school. Are you taking me today?” she asked.
“Yes, I am. Go get ready, but make it quick. I need to get ready as well,” I said.
She nodded and went into the room to grab her uniform. All of the schools in the city required uniforms. Some had better ones than others, depending on the school, and all of the kids from lower income families wore hand-me-downs or worn out uniforms from the other, richer neighborhoods. Saraia was no stranger to that, and all of her uniforms were either ones I used to wear, or ones my mom got for cheap from the rations store.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked thirty-five minutes later, as she was collecting her belongings in the room.
“One minute,” she yelled back, the ruffling sound of her bag spilling out into the kitchen.
I grabbed my bracelet and clasped it around my left wrist. It was my grandma’s and she gave it to me. I always wore it, no matter where I went, even to work. It was a part of me, and I never wanted to let it go. Besides, only good things could happen to me while I was wearing it. She told me it was lucky.
“Okay,” Saraia said as she walked out of the bedroom, her backpack hanging off of her, a little too big for her frame.
I grabbed my keys, we walked out the front door, and I locked it behind me. I jiggled the doorknob to make sure it was secured, which sometimes it wasn’t. It was this time, and we walked down the steps. Saraia grabbed my hand when we got onto the sidewalk, and off we went for the fifteen-minute walk to her school. Thankfully it was in the same general direction that I needed to go to get to work.
Although the skies were always gray, it was particularly overcast today. Some days there were thin rays of sunshine that were like small bits of heaven breaking through the dark, brooding clouds. Sadly enough, today wasn’t one of those days.
Saraia and I were at a corner, patiently waiting for the light to change so we could walk, when she nudged me, slyly pointing to a man standing in an alleyway nearby. He looked a little suspicious, constantly glancing over his shoulder, like he was expecting somebody, or something, to be there. I saw a kid walk by him, and the man stopped him. I kept a close eye on him, wondering if he was going to start any kind of trouble.
He opened his jacket, and I could see something metallic and shiny hanging inside. At that moment, I knew what he was doing. He had a skimmer in his jacket, held up by a fabric sling, neatly hidden away because of the consequences of having such a device.
Skimmers were illegal, and he definitely knew it. They were dark metal devices, a wristband of sorts, that you wore in WorldNet. They allowed you to hack through the network with special cards that I was guessing the guy was likely also carrying. I had heard about skimmers in school
Similar Books
Savage Hunger: Savage, Book 1
Shelli Stevens
A Holiday Romance
Bobbie Jordan
The Frightened Man
Kenneth Cameron
The Atlantis Blueprint
Colin Wilson
Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1)
Leigh K. Hunt
Little Red
Justin Cairns
Cold Hit
Linda Fairstein
The Coven
Cate Tiernan
The Woman Upstairs
Claire Messud