The Worth Games
Charisma's golden curls bounced as she skipped down the cement sidewalk. The facades of the buildings in town seemed to glimmer, and the many smells of stores seemed to dance in the air, combining to make a pleasently intense odor, that lingered in her nose. It smelled like home. The sky was clear blue, a single shade of light blue, as far as the little girl could see, and it seemed to serenade the hues of flowers at every street corner. As she walked by a bakery, the smell of cinnamon wafted through the air. She stopped, and inhaled. She held up her ID number, and the black box on the wall made a sharp click, and the door to the bakery swung open.
After buying a square of cinnamon, she had began down her street. Her house was the biggest on the street, a two level modern farmhouse. The red of her house seemed to menacingly pulse, as if daring, try enter. She approached the gate, and once again held her ID number up to another magic box.
"Click"
The gate swung open, and she began to walk up the driveway. The girl stepped slowley, deliberatly, as if savoring the soft thud of each foot hitting the soft earth. She approached her spot by the apple tree. Standing on her toes, she could barely reach the lowest apple. She jumped, and plucked the juicy red apple off the tree. A new one instantly appeared, in the same spot. She sat down in the shade of the towering tree. She looked down, through her favorite window, revealing a different way of life, the only other way. The way of the unworthy.
Chikao walked down the alley, eyes open for anything edible. The crisp fall air pierced his nose, and tickled him down to the bone. He found half an apple, and polished it on his shirt. He began walking back to his home, observing the buildings around him. They were mostly crooked, slanting, burned out carcasses of old structures. The buildings considered nicer, were taken over by gangs. Thats how the territory wars started. A lone man walked towards him, about fifty feet away. He was eyeing Chikao's apple, but Chikao has perfected his menacing look long ago, everyone needed to if they were going to survive here. He walked past the man, and started to jog. Hot ash rained down from the sky, warming spots of rough skin on his arms, leaving streaks of soot down his clothes. Chikao turned the corner, and entered a slanted building, black, charred, and lonely. He put his apple in his pack in the corner. He lived in an old building with the group that had found him when he was a child, scared, hungry, and hurt, and had raised him for ten years now.
Joining up with one of the Unworthy Land's "gangs" was not one of the proudest things he had ever done, but if there was any safety here what-so-ever, it was in numbers. He went and sat down in his favorite spot, eager for an afternoon nap. He looked up through the glass in the ceiling, and saw a baby-faced girl looking down. She had to have been fifteen or sixteen, eating an apple. A fresh, juicy apple, not half rotted like the one Chikao had found.
"Stop," he thought to himself"all the bitterness in the world wont change things for me."
As she stared into his desperate, almost animal eyes, he stared into hers, glinting with gold and mischief, radiating power and grace. She seemed curious, and didnt avert her gaze from him, as most people would have. She seemed to be drinking his presense, and the dangerous glint in her eyes was sharp as a blade, thristing for knowledge.
"Were not that different." He though, sadly.
Then he saw the ID number, running up the inside of her left arm. The black ink number changed into a symbol, a red circle. He glanced at his, the numbers running up his arm, and then at the bright blue circle, boring into his eyes as a reminder, they were as different as possible.
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