Dedication to graceylahlah for being such great fan, and friend as well. :D And just a side note, you don't have a cute erh-herm okay? Get over it. xD
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Chapter 3
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Rule #142 of the Pecunia Rulebook:
A Pecunian, with a Level of 30 or below, who is guilty of theft will need to be engaged in community service for a year, and undergo a Level degrade of 10 Levels.
A Pecunian, with a Level of 40 to 60, who is guilty of theft will need to be engaged in community service for six months, and undergo a Level degrade of 5 Levels.
A Pecunian, with a Level of 60 and above, who is guilty of theft will need to be engaged in community service for three months, and undergo a Level degrade of 3 Levels.
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Skye was afraid, filled with so much trepidation that she could hear her blood thudding in her ears. Her eyes riveted on the boy in front of her, she took a few steps back quickly, worried that the boy might hurt her.
He certainly looked like he was capable of doing that, with his nostrils flaring angrily, and his arms held in a fighting stance.
"Please...don't hurt me," she said shakily.
She watched as the boy visibly relaxed, his hands now lowered to his sides. Skye exhaled a sigh of relief.
"No, don't worry. I won't hurt you." the boy replied, and he stepped closer to Skye.
Skye finally relaxed, but her relief was short-lived. A gasp left her mouth after she noticed the boy's collar. A huge '96' was embroidered on it, and the two digits seemed to be taunting Skye as she continued gaping at it. Skye gulped, and looked back up at the boy. He was observing her, an amused smirk on his face.
Skye was at a loss. She has never been in the presence of someone with a rank higher than 50, because people with a rank more than half of 100 usually stayed out of the Poor's ways, as the Rich looked down on the Poor.
Should I bow? Or should I greet him? Skye asked herself.
"What's your Level?" came the dreaded question before Skye could decide what to do. She froze, and she even decided on telling a lie to spare her from further humiliation. However, she knew the deadly consequences that awaited her if she ever dared to lie about her Level.
She decided to tell the truth. "L...Level 21."
A look of disdain momentarily flickered over the boy's face. Skye felt her stomach lurch, and she braced herself for the unkind comments to come.
To her surprise, the boy walked to her, and settled down beside her. "It's been a long day, I'll just rest here for the night."
Skye, not knowing what to say in reply, nodded numbly. She leaned her head on the wall behind her, letting her thoughts run wild. She listened to the boy's steady breathing beside her. Her body, on the other hand, stayed stiff, because she was not used to being in such close proximity with a boy.
Being denied a proper education in school, Skye did not know many people, let alone be friends with anyone. Skye suddenly thought of a question she was dying to ask the rich boy beside her.
"Are you happy?" Skye blurted, immediately regretting her question when the boy was jolted awake from his short nap. He rubbed his eyes, and locked gazes with Skye. Skye unconciously shivered from the boy's intense gaze.
"Not at all," the boy replied, tearing away from Skye's gaze and looking in the distance.
Skye was taken aback by his fast reply. There was no hesitancy; no time for consideration. The answer was definite.
No? But why? He was definitely a Rich, and he didn't have to worry about money at all. Why wasn't he happy?
"Why? You don't have to worry about the water and electricity bills, you don't have to worry about meals, why aren't you happy?" Skye rambled.
The boy sighed, and scratched the back of his neck. Then, he looked at Skye again.
"Money may not necessarily guarantee happiness. Like, I mean, an increase in food production may not necessarily lead to a decrease in world hunger, right?"
Skye was awed. The boy suddenly seemed like Socrates, not a reckless boy in his teenage years. Maybe the Rich all spoke like that; with an air of maturity, with deep, philosophical views that Skye might not ever understand.
She did not attend school, after all. She picked up the Pecunian's language slower than the rest of the other children, because she learnt it by eavesdropping on her neighbour's loud conversations on the phone.
Skye thought for a while, racking her brains to come up with an intelligent response to the boys's insightful words. But to her dismay, she thought of none.
"Oh," Skye said, after a moment of silence.
"What's your name, anyway?" the boy asked her shortly after.
Skye mumbled her name, marveling at the fact that she has just introduced herself twice in a day.
Once to Avery, and the second time to the boy. In Polly's case, she found out Skye's name from the manager of the fast food restaurant, but didn't bother to call Skye by her name anyway. So Skye did not reckon it as a proper introduction.
Skye then realised that she did not know the boy's name.
"What's yours then?"
"Nathan."
"Not a short form for Nathaniel?" Skye inquired, remembering a certain boy with ginger hair who lived just a few streets down Skye's house.
His name was Nathaniel, but he changed it to Nathan because he found it a handful to write and pronounce his name in full.
"Nope." Nathan's reply came sharply. "Just Nathan."
Skye sensed Nathan's sudden hostility towards her, so she decided not to probe further. Laying back down to rest, her eyes fluttered close and she was already in a deep sleep, moments later.
Nathan on the other hand, did not go to sleep so quickly. He snuck a glance at the sleeping girl beside him, and mouthed her name silently. Skye. Skye.
He found the name unusual. Usually, parents loved to name their children with two-syllable, three-syllable or even four-syllable names. They felt that it was more sophisticated that way. But Skye, it was a unique name.
Nathan's mother has decided on Nathan's name three months before he was born. Nathan's father would have never bothered with something as trivial as giving his child a nice name.
Oh, Nathan, his mother would say when he jumped in puddles, formed by the rain, on sidewalks.
Oh Nathan, his mother would say when he greedily shoved chocolate fudge cake into his mouth without properly eating it with a fork.
A sad smile formed on Nathan's face. He was thinking of his mother too much today. The feeling of loss was just too hard to bear.
He turned, and his gaze landed on Skye's peaceful face as she lightly snored. He wondered if she has a family to go home to, a family that would shower her love and concern.
But then, if she had that, why would she be here, like him?
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Skye rubbed her eyes, adjusting to the bright sunlight. She languidly got up from her position on the rough gravel, and winced when her arm ached. She must have been in a wrong sleeping position the night before. Rubbing her arm repeatedly to sooth the sore ache, Skye looked to her side, her heart hoping to see the boy there.
But, he was gone.
Skye sighed, and finally got up. She would just treat last night's meeting as a dream, and soon, it would just fade from her memory.
She presumed it was still quite early in the morning, as most of the shops were not open for business yet. She decided to make a trip home to check on her mother, before reporting for another day of work.
Pushing open the door, she was hit by the heavy stench of alcohol again. Scrunching up her nose in disgust, she hurriedly went to her mother's room. Just as she expected, her mother was lying on the bed, sleeping like a log. A beer bottle hung on her hand, and it was on ther verge of dropping. Skye sprinted over to the other side of the bed, and caught it just before it made an unceremonious crash on the bedroom floor.
Wetting a towel, she placed it on her mother's forehead first, then gently wiped her face. She knew that her mother would not get up from bed unless she needed to take a leak or buy some more beer. So, she just wanted to sponge her mother's face.
"Goodbye Mother," Skye whispered, placing the towel beside her mother's bed before quietly leaving the house.
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Skye was on washing duty today. After throwing a brief glance at Skye, Polly stuffed her earpiece back into her ear, and continued to listen to the music, nodding her head to the beat.
Skye hurriedly went to the kitchen. Turning on the tap, she gingerly lifted a heavy plate and rinsed the grease of it with water. She began rubbing the oil stains on it forcefully.
Then she heard the shuffling of feet.
The water from the tap kept running, and Skye thought her ears were playing tricks on her.
But then, she heard it again.
She heard footsteps nearing her, but they were lighter, compared to the ones she heard earlier. Her head snapped back, and she saw Polly sauntering her way into the kitchen.
Polly must have noticed her fearful expression, for she pulled out her earpiece from her ears. Her brown eyes scanned Skye's face curiously. After Skye remained silent for a while, she shrugged and went to the cupboard, probably to stock up on the napkins.
"I heard someone come in." Skye finally choked out, switching off the running tap.
Polly froze, her hand rigid on the packet of napkins. She confirmed Skye's thoughts.
"My father's on sick leave today."
Skye's face creased in worry and fear. It was not Polly's father. Avery was already in the restaurant, cleaning the tables before Skye even reported for work.
"It's a thief," Skye mouthed. She could not believe that she was facing this predicament.
Thieves were common in Pecunia. They were usually people with a Level lower than 10; their desperation for money driving them to their wits' end.
Skye has never encountered a thief before, but she heard that they would turn brutal if they didn't get what they want.
Polly's face contorted into one of fear.
"Let's go check where the thief is. I think he or she might be in the storeroom." Skye reckoned.
Polly's eyes widened in shock. "Me too? No way! I've just got these extensions yesterday, what if they got damaged when the thief attacks me?" She whispered incredulously.
Skye suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Did Polly only care about her hair extensions? What about her job?
The manager of the fast food restaurant diligently checked the amount of items in the storeroom and cupboards every day just to make sure that the workers did not eat or take more than they should.
Skye could only imagine what would happen if the manager realised that there were a couple of potatoes or carrots missing.
"But Polly, you will lose your job if you don't catch the thief!" Skye reasoned desperately.
Skye suddenly felt a presence behind her, and spun around abruptly.
She breathed a sigh of relief. It was Avery.
"What's going on? Skye, we need the bowls for the soup! And Polly, where's the napkins I asked you to take?" Avery asked, her brows knitted as she looked disapprovingly at us.
"Shh, softer!" Polly whispered, pressing a finger to her lips, but it was too late.
Our heads turned as we heard something landed on the ground with a loud clank.
"Who is it?" Avery asked, and Skye noticed a slight tremor in her voice. Avery took tentative steps forward, armed with nothing but a flimsy apron and a damp rag.
Skye contained a gasp as the thief finally came into sight. It was a man, six foot tall, with a paunch. He looked very intimidating and scary, but with a butcher's knife in his hand, he looked twice as dangerous.
Avery suddenly stopped in her tracks, as she also saw how huge the thief was.
Polly, as expected, cowered behind Skye's back.
"What do you want?" Skye finally mustered her courage and spoke. At the corner of her eye, she saw the man clutching onto a bulging, black bag. She faintly made out the shape of a potato inside it.
Her stomach lurched. Those would cost a lot of money.
"Where do you keep the shop's earnings?" The man gruffly said, his voice muffled with a black cloth tied around his face; a makeshift mask to hide his features.
Skye could not control the gasp that escaped her mouth.
Now he wants the money too?
"It's over there," Avery stated, pointing to the opposite direction of where the money actually was kept. "Come with me."
Polly whimpered behind Skye in fear as the man advanced towards her.
Skye imagined the dire consequences Avery could not escape the ordeal. There wasn't even anything paper-like there to fool the man.
Avery spun on her heel and walked slowly to Skye.
"Check out the vegetables in the storeroom, Skye. They're in the top drawer, I accidentally left it open just now." Avery said, her eyes searching Skye's face.
Skye's brows knitted in confusion. The top drawer did not contain vegetables. They contained...money.
"I've got no time for your little conversation. Move it," the man snarled, pushing Avery forward roughly.
"Do it," Avery nodded at me, almost pleadingly.
Skye nodded numbly, and stumbled to the storeroom quickly, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
Her hands groped for the light switch in the darkness, desperation overwhelming her.
The light switch clicked in place, and white light flooded Skye's vision. She quickly closed the top drawer, and secured it with a lock.
Suddenly a bloodcurdling screaming rang in Skye's eardrums. She recognized the scream. It was Polly's.
Skye scrambled out of the storeroom, not even bothering to close the door. She actually could stay inside the storeroom, safely confined in its four walls, while Avery and Polly struggled with the attacker, so she did not know why she was out in the open, now making herself vulnerable to the man's attacks.
Avery was currently on the floor, her hand gripping the man's arm, her face just inches from being scarred by the sharp blade of the knife.
Polly stood there, her face streaked with tears as she continued screaming. Skye knew she had to do something before the knife stabs Avery in the eye.
"Get off her!" Skye yelled, running towards the man. The man was caught in surprise, and looked up at Skye briefly. She took this to her advantage, and hit the man's arm, forcing him to drop his knife.
Unfortunately, the man was too strong for Skye. He mumbled some expletives before getting off Avery, and staggered towards Skye, his eyes lit up in menace.
Skye swallowed, fear overwhelming her. The blade of the knife glinted, and she felt herself shudder.
The man drew back his arm, and slashed Skye's arm with the knife. Skye shrieked in pain, using her other arm to nurse her wound.
Suddenly, police sirens sounded, too loud for Skye's liking, but she heaved a sigh of relief nonetheless. Sharp, searing pain sizzled up her arm, and she bit her lip from crying out. Squeezing her eyes shut in agony, she prayed for the man to get away from her.
She only opened her eyes when she heard Avery's soothing voice. "Skye? Skye? Are you okay?" Avery asked, a slight tremor in her voice. She was still shaken after the incident.
"Did the man get caught by the police?" Skye asked weakly, her eyes meeting Avery's worried ones.
"No, the police didn't really come. Polly just got the audio of a police's siren off the web, and played it," Avery said, her eyes now peering at Skye's wound. Skye craned her neck to look at the wound, and winced at how gross it looked.
Crimson red blood trickled down her arm, and the gash was very prominent on Skye's pale skin.
"The first-aid kit is here!" Polly announced, scrambling into the kitchen with a huge, white box.
Avery hurriedly took over, and expertly cut the bandage and wrapped it around Skye's wound. Skye whimpered as Avery applied pressure on her injury.
"You were really...brave just now," Polly said in awe.
Skye could only manage a weak smile in return.
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Chapter 3 is out! :) A longer chapter for my lovely fans and readers. ^^ I hope you guys are happy with it. :)
Remember to vote + comment! I love to know what you think of this! :D
On a side note, have any of you read Divergent? It's amazingly written! :D You should go check it out soon, if you haven't read it yet!
Love,
-Calistarilarila