Privilege •H.S•

1. Date of Crime?

A/N-

Whatever outfit Bea is wearing will always be shown above.

Just in case you don't know how to pronounce something:

Frant: Fr-a-n-t (Simply)
Jemina: Jem-een-uh
Nouver: Noh-ver
Phonobus: Fon-Oh-buh-s
Just ask for anything else if needed

Song of the Chapter:

"And he says, "What do you love to do?
Outside your world, who spends time with you?
Whom do you love when you're not working?
Sweet Girl

Where would you go if you had the time?
Crossing some crazy State-line somewhere?
To whom do you cry? People are unkind
Sweet Girl"

- "Sweet Girl" by Fleetwood Mac/Stevie Nicks

****

The start of my day begins with a cup of cinnamon coffee. Prepared especially for me by one of my father's Nouvers. Cynthia comes into my room with a tray of cappuccino essentials and two cups. She wakes me with the sunlight after drawing the pale-violet, satin curtains. She has been attending to me since I was a child and since then I have asked her to spend the mornings with me; hence the second cup.

Although today was the day Cynthia's grandchild would be born, so this morning is a morning without company. Instead Alec had to bring me my coffee, pour my coffee, shake me slightly to wake, and leave when I was to my feet. I was surprised he was my assistance today, for he is just the gardener; a new one at that. Cynthia told me stories about how he came from the silver mines before my father had bought him. He still has ten years of work for a robbery, supposedly.

When a certain crime is committed, or a debt goes unpaid, citizens are put to work. A Frant can turn into a Nouver just by attempting a crime and can't pay off the bail.

Cynthia has never told me why she has been a Nouver so long, so I don't bother to ask.

My mother was once a Nouver, which she has never told and never will tell my father. My parents view the world differently. Mother's experience with working as a Frant's maid has made her more open to what the world is like. Her father, my late grandfather, could not pay his rent one month, and the Frant who owned the building turned him in. Just like that. Eventually, Grandfather could not take the backbreaking work the fields required. He had a heart attack and, by law, my mother took his place and was sold as a maid. After her three years of service that Grandfather left behind, she became a Jemina. A Jemina is a Frant without wealth. a Jemina cannot afford many things, but does not have to work like a Nouver unless they decide to commit a crime or leave a debt unpaid, as the law states. Mother was not foolish enough to try either. However, I've never heard of my grandmother.

My father was born and raised as a Frant in the very house that I sit in now. He was walking around town one day when he saw the beauty I call my mother sitting on a bench and asked for her hand in marriage. As a Frant, he can basically do anything he wants, whenever he wants. Mother doesn't like this trait about father, but loves him anyway, as do I.

Because my mother was a Jemina and my father is Frant they are legally allowed to marry. Then my mother is recorded as a "Frant By Marriage". A Nouver is only allowed to marry a Nouver, however. A child of a Nouver is a Nouver until their parents are done with their sentence. When a Frant or Jemina become a Nouver their spouse's legal status also changes.

All of this I have learned in "Social Justice", a class I am currently taking as a senior at Clara University of the Frants. An all Frant school allows you to be a lawyer which I am studying to be. What I didn't know, however, is how unjust this school is or how cruel the students are. Until I realized, this is not their fault. I was raised by a half-Jemina who is afraid to say that she was once a Nouver. My mother has taught me to be kind no matter who I face. The other Frants who I am forced to socialize with at times only know how to be a Frant. They were raised by Frants; taught how to be a Frant. It's basic sociology.