Numbers

"Name?"

"Maya Hart"

"Number?"

"31795317862439"

"Mother and Father?"

"Katy and Kermit Hart"

"You may go through"

Maya trudged through the entrance, mouth turned down and dirty hair pulled up into a ponytail, same as every morning since she was 12. She nodded in recognition at a boy in the next line across, Brandon, from section 3. He nodded back. For the next 200 metres in front of them, huge lines of men and women stretched towards the factory that was billowing clouds of black steam into the air, where they all worked.

It was 6 o'clock sharp they began working, and it finished at 9pm in the evening. They were all making clothes for section 1. They were created by hand using the finest silks and cotton the country had to supply, and it made Maya sick. How could these people be buying these sorts of clothes when she barely made enough money to keep herself fed? It was unfair. But she had gotten used to it.

She wrinkled her nose as the passed the crematory. Even though the fire got rid of all the bodies, the smell still lingered, and the age of the Dead was ever-present in Maya's mind. 16. Only one year older than she herself. She would probably join them soon enough, as there was no way she could find her soulmate within the next seven months. And then she would be gone forever.

It wasn't like this 50 years ago. Everyone used to be able to pick the job they wanted, fall in love with whomever they wanted, and do whatever they pleased. But not anymore. Ever since ISIS had fallen to the new Russian leader, the whole world had been indebted to him and his army, and in turn, he took over everything and everybody.

The scheme that the whole world had to abide by was created by some British scientists, and was really very simple to understand, and solved the population problem by killing upwards of 12,000 people per year.

When you were born you were given a number. It was inked on your wrist before you could even speak, but your whole life would revolve around it. You would memorise them, and it would tell you how you would live.

The first number was what part of your country you lived in. Maya had 3, as she was put in the Cornwall part of England, right near the sea, although she had never been taught how to swim. These went from 1 to 86.

The second number was your job. This went from 1 to 190, and you were given it relating to your Social Standing in the country, although people that lived in 1 had a blank there, as the government felt that it wasn't necessary to make them work, as they were the most important people in the new society.

The third number was your Social Standing, and it was just from 1 to 5. Five was worst and one was the best you could hope for, although it all depended on your parents.

1 meant you were rich, basically a celebrity, and you lived in the centre of the town, with bodyguards and protective walls.

2 meant that you were upper class, but not enough to be considered famous. You would live in the nice suburbs of the town, with a high street and nice corner shops.

3 meant that you were middle class. Mostly they had houses on the not-so-nice suburbs, but were still respected by the community.

4 was working class. They lived on the new estates in the surrounding villages to the town, where fights occurred often and were rarely stopped.

And 5 meant that you lived nowhere. You had to live on the street, and barely had enough money for clothes and food.

That was where Maya was. Her Dad had left her Mum when she was little, and her Mum, Katy, didn't even notice her anymore. So when Maya turned 12 she left the house to live on the streets, and started a job, as was compulsory at that age. She fended for herself, and although her mother had been a 4, somehow the scientists had known that she would become a 5.

The fourth number was your group. There were four different groups you could be picked for, and there were only three you really wanted. The other one was just for those left over. They were based on cunning, courage, cleverness, and then just whoever didn't fit. They were called Cunning, Bravery, Brain, and Other. Creative right?

Maya had been put into Other, and she liked to think it was because she was a combination of all three, but in reality she knew that it was because she just had none of them at all.

The last number was the most important. The first half of it was your soulmate's number, and the second half was your number. It was originally created to be a helpful guide to who you would be best suited with, but after a while the population had grown so much that there was a large issue with it.

The government decreed that if you didn't find out who your soulmate was by the time you had turned 16, you would be killed. That's why they needed a crematory. To burn them alive. And Maya only had seven months left before her time was up.

Maya sighed angrily as the lady in front of her swayed slightly. Not another collapse! That would mean she would have to work overtime to make up for the missing person. Goddamn this was so pointless. As the lady started to go pale and sway more rapidly, Maya held her arms out tiredly to catch her. Within the next fifteen seconds, she felt a deadweight slump into her arms. She groaned, pulling the woman up and shouting for some help. Just another shit day at work, the same as usual. And now she could stay late, so that would just be extra great wouldn't it?

At least she didn't have to face her mother anymore when she got home. When she had still lived there, there was always some drunk guy from 5 hanging around, always talking about how he wanted to 'bang' her, and if her Mum wasn't around, he could have her as a girlfriend instead. Not likely. She would rather eat pig crap than go on a date with any of those weirdos.

But what she did have to look forward to was some filthy streets and her manky sleeping bag, which she would most likely have to steal back from some other bloke that decided he was cold. She had to steal quite often to get by, and was planning something else at that moment.

She was going to break into section 1 of the town and steal some of the money she was sure they kept lying about the place, considering how rich they all were.

But she wasn't going to just any rich snob's house. Oh no. She was going to steal from Lucas Friar's house, heartthrob and daddy's boy extraordinaire. The same one that all of the section 1 girls were infatuated with, and drooled over him in the magazines that were published by no other than Lucas Friar's daddy, the one and only Matthew Friar. They mainly featured pictures of Lucas that were taken by a professional photographer in a studio which cost him thousands of coins. He made sure that Lucas had everything he wanted, and they lived together with his Mum as a happy family ever since Lucas had been born. Just swell!

But she would ruin the peace when she stole from their precious little mansion, and maybe they would realise that other people lived in their world, not just them and their perfect rich lives. She might even break some things whilst she was there. They were in for a major wake-up-call.

Thanks for reading. Please review to help me improve my writing! If anyone wants to be a beta for me, I could really use the help. I hope you like the story,

Love, Unicorns xxx