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Trials and Errors - Rule One

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Trials and Errors

~ Steal to Survive; Rule 1 ~

I suppose that if I am to write this, it must start somewhere early in my life. I don’t really remember a lot of my childhood even now but they insist that I write this. To be honest, it may lift a heavy burden from my heart. Being doubly honest, I have many doubts regarding this endeavour. I suppose if it makes them happy, a page or two wouldn’t hurt right?

To start with, my full name is Crystal Jayde Young. My father told me that my mother Theresa named me so. I guess she wanted a beautiful name for a beautiful baby girl with curly red hair and later on in life, green eyes. I was told that my mother was beautiful by my father. I’ve only seen one or two pictures of her but it saddens me to this day that I will never get to know her.

I came into the world on April seventeenth of the twenty-first Common Era of the Mars Colony of New Orion. My mother died several hours after my birth. I would never know a mother’s love. The special bond between mother and child is something that I will probably crave for the rest of my life. She gave me her gentle green eyes and warming smile from what I’ve been told. If I had been able to meet her even once perhaps, I would’ve spared many of my life’s trials and tribulations.

According to the New Orion policy, if the mother dies in childbirth, the child cannot go to the father unless they remarry. It is a stupid law for if the husband does not remarry, the child becomes a ward of the colony. It pained my father deeply for many years to know that he would not see me again for many years. After that, even my father isn’t aware of all the details. A large portion of my childhood is unfortunately sealed in a classified report that I am not permitted to view.

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The next thing I know of my life is when I’m six years old. The streets were my school, petty theft my education. Compared to the modern day terran society of earth, the Mars colonies were rather medieval in their approach to its citizens. After the loss of my mother, my father did not remarry and I was sent to an orphanage. At that time, I was the youngest child. If I had been born into a higher class, I would have been educated. However, the government had no business educating those of poor birth. The social classes of the Mars colonies are appalling to say the least. Orphans were placed into a class below the poor. Those who belonged to the lowest class of all did anything we could to survive. It wasn’t our idea to be thrust into that lifestyle because I certainly wouldn’t want any part of it now. We were the thieves who stole your goods and sold them elsewhere; who stole your bread just to have something to eat.

This is where my story truly begins. I hadn’t eaten that day and the bakery just down from the hell I called home made wonderful bread among other things. Usually the older ones would bring food home for the ones who were too young to fend for themselves. I hadn’t seen them for some time and I needed to eat soon or I didn’t know what would happen.

I tip-toed through the filthy halls, careful not to bring attention to myself or the fact that my chores were not completed for that day or whatever they had me doing that day. I can’t seem to recall that part of my life with much clarity even now. I do know though that if they knew that I was sneaking out to steal food so that I could sustain myself in some semblance of health, I fear they would have done something I couldn’t think of at the time. As I pulled on my ratty, hand-me-down sneakers and stole through the yard and gate toward the bakery, my stomach roiled in anticipation. The smells of baking bread made my mouth water voraciously.

The orphanage was located near a small market run by the poor. Like the orphans they were above, they did everything they could to survive. Luckily for them, eventually they would be given jobs to become a productive member of the society here. Their clothing wasn’t torn and tattered like the sorry sight that I must have been; instead, it was only well worn. The shoes upon their feet looked like something spun in gold compared to my sneakers that were already too small for my feet. They were clean, looked healthy and could smile with a reasonable amount of sincerity. I snuck through them quietly, trying not to bring attention to myself as I came upon the bakery.

All of the bread looked delectable to my hungry eyes as I tried to act like a normal customer. However, most of the other people in the store were at least twice my size in more ways than one. I went over to the buns first, staring at the steaming, round buns before thinking that I would need something bigger in order for it to last a couple of days. Naturally, I went over to the bread section and the first scent that came to my nose was the sharp tang of melted cheddar. I eyed the cheese bread that was on the table before me with a watery gleam. That small loaf of bread would have been the finest delicacy I had ever eaten in my six short years.

My small hands grabbed the loaf closest to me as I clutched it tightly in my arms. It didn’t matter at that moment whether or not the bread was ruined; I was going to eat like a king that night! I looked at a couple more things before a crowd of busy people entered the shop. That was my cue to escape as I snuck out the door and back into the street. I felt that I wasn’t clever enough in my escape as a voice shouted after me. Theft was often in that district of the city as I started to run through the crowded courtyard. Whispers of a thief were roiling through the crowd like bullets in a massacre as I saw a large black shadow looming behind me. If I had known what would happen to me after that, I would have dropped the loaf of bread and cowered in the quasi-safety of the Orphanage never to leave its confines again.

No-one called out to me, ordering that I stop in the name of the law. The law didn’t seem to have much place in this market as more screams of thieves erupted into the air. I stopped dead in my tracks, confused about the shouting as the people closed in around me. It was the first time I’d ever felt that scared in my life, as the people crowded around me. Time, space and reality didn’t seem to matter at that moment as I tried to push people away from me. Even to this day I don’t know the exact details of what happened next.

All I know for a fact was that I was tackled to the ground. A startled cry escaped from my mouth as my head banged off several things. Stars sparkled into my vision after the first impact. Everything else after that is a blur before everything faded to black.
I'm posting something original! :O I've decided to rewrite the stuff I've put down on paper/electronically about Jayde. ._. I came to the conclusion quite a while ago that my alter ego for lack of a better term was a total sue! >.> So I've gone into the bag and tried to rewrite it. Unfortunately, thanks in part to the influence of Storm Constantine's Wraeththu trilogy of novels, I've started rewriting this a la memoir. :O It might read a little weird because I'm writing it as I'm thinking it should sound. >.> I'd love to hear someone's thoughts on this. Suggestions would be lovely.

It's been awhile since I've written anything in third person and to be honest, I would love some input on this! Concrit is encouraged because it's the only way a person is going to improve. Anything and everything that might help with this piece will be appreciated. Thank you! ^_^ I may expand on this at a later date. :)
© 2007 - 2024 luminosus
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will-write-for-food's avatar
I enjoyed how the very beginning doesn't seem to lead into a science fiction plot, but the addition of it was well delivered. The character's voice is clear and gives a good indication of her personality. I especially like the character's description of the poor. It was interesting to me becuase her station is lower than the low and she looks at them with the envious eyes of a child. All in all, very nice work.