Above and Below

Intro Part 1

The sun rises on everyone, even those who are so rich they don't have to wake up for it. Even those who are so poor they find no more joy in it. It rises on the Warrens in their governor's mansion and the newspaper boy on Ivy lane. It rises on Respectables, Abovers, and Customers. It also rises on criminals, even if they never see it.

Some of us do, of course. A few brave or desperate or ignorant souls live in the Above, conning Respectables and dodging police officers. In downtown Above, there are gangs and rivalries just like here in Below; but they're mostly petty things that aren't very lethal and don't last very long. Not like in Below. Some folks would rather lose their hands than their heads and stay Above to escape the Blacks or the gangs. And others simply do not know about Below, though how they could miss it is beyond me.

I know the sun is rising because the fires are being lit around the city, and Connie is groaning. She really hates getting up in the morning, so naturally she makes a big deal of it. I guess I can't get annoyed with her for being overdramatic when I'm pretty much the most dramatic person I know. I'm one of those kids that has to have the last word in everything, gets annoyed at the slightest things and becomes really giddy when I'm happy. My friend Muck says I'm probably a little Bipolar. Like anyone knows what that means.

Trix, who is pretty much the self-appointed mom of our group of Picks, gets up and starts harassing us one by one until we get up, but leaves Connie and I for last. Connie because she'll stay in bed as long as possible, and me because I'm mean enough to make her leave me alone. At nineteen, she is the eldest, older than me by five years, but I've been around the longest – since I was two – and I look after myself. I watch her phantom move around the room in front of her, speaking the words she's about to say just a second or two before her. This is my secret. As far as I know, I am the only person who sees what is about to happen before it does.

Have you ever watched as someone knocks over a cup? I mean, have you ever realized what was happening much faster than your body can respond, and watched as it happens exactly how you expect it to? Most of the time, you won't even have time to cry out, let alone catch it.

Not me. I will catch it every time. Because of the phantoms. The phantoms are green, and look kind of like a 3D shadow of whatever is moving. If something is standing still, and not going anywhere in the next few moments, it has no phantom. If someone's phantom says something, that person will say that thing, even if they didn't know what they were going to say before they said it, or if someone tries to interrupt them. The only exception to this is if I decide to change it.

"Come on Connie," "Come on Connie," "it's time" "it's time" "to get up." "to get up."

See how confusing that is? Imagine it all overlapping, along with double the noise of all the other beds and kids groaning. Sometimes I wonder if I live in one reality, while everyone else lives in two. Or if I'm actually in the future and seeing the past. The fact that the phantoms are green and real life isn't is sometimes my only reassurance that I'm not totally crazy.Since that sentence in itself sounds totally sane.

"Pockets?" a voice asks tentatively – Trix.

"Yes?" I sort of snap the word. For some reason, that girl gets on my nerves. Immediately, I want to smack myself. Wait for the echo, you idiot! Though she looks surprised at my apparently unprompted reply, she doesn't comment on it.

"You coming?" I can hear the order in that. Everything inside me suddenly rebels at the idea of getting up, even though I was about to do just that. But I can't just stay there, either. With an annoyed huff I swing my legs out of bed and saunter past without answering. Muck would call me rude, but I wouldn't care. I am rude; you'll never meet a polite Bilgerat.