Chapter 4: Above

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First person POV: (Y/n)

As we near the end of the second set of stairs after a long hallway, I see light, brighter than any I've seen before. It's painting the walls and the stairs golden, and yellow and orange. A beautiful sight.

As we step more into the light, I struggle against the handcuffs, as they hold back my hands when I want to bring them up to protect my eyes from the bright light. My eyes narrow to near shut, and I slow my pace of climbing the stairs so my eyes could adjust to the light. Not an option as a male voice speaks behind me, "Keep going," and he shoves me into taking a quick step.

"Well, I'm sorry for being a tad bit skeptical about all of this," I scoff, earning another shove in return. I force my legs to take the last steps up the stairs. My eyes completely closed against the overly bright light as I take the last step. As I try to open my eyes, I immediately regret it as I get blinded and my eyes start stinging. Damn it, it's supposed to be sunset, no? Why's it so bright?

I turn my head away from the sun, blinding me and trying to look to the ground so my eyes actually could get somewhat used to the brightness of the world above.

"Come on, we have to get going if we want to make it back before sundown," another male voice says, harshly and lowly, and shoves me again. What is it with these people and shoving me around so much?

"Give me some damn time to adjust to the fucking light here, unlike you people, I'm not used to it being this bright around me," I hiss and plink, my eyes watering slightly.

"Ah, of course. Well, you see, that there is the sun. That's what causes the brightness of the above ground," the same man says. I force myself to look toward the source of the voice, I find a man who looks near fucking fifty, his light hair styled like Levi's and his face full of annoyance.

"I know what a sun is. I may not be schooled as you all, but I'm not stupid," I hiss harshly at him, regretting it soon after as a pain shoots through my right side. Reaction is to bring my hand up to it, but my hands just so happen to be cuffed so, I pull on my cuffs, hurting my wrists. I might have a bruised rib or something. Fan-fucking-tastic. I now get a chance to look around for a second; houses, shops, cafes line the street. People still walking on the stone streets, making their last purchases or hurrying home from whatever work they have. Some slow their pace to look at us, well the Scouts around me, before their eyes spot me in handcuffs, and their faces turn into sneers, disgust, and hatred.

I try to ignore the twinge it gives to my gut. The feeling of being hated for just being you, for just doing what you need to survive. The feeling of never being good enough to blend in with these people. I wonder if I had enough money to get up here on my own, if they would have singled me out then as well. Probably. The people above ground can tell a difference between one of their own and one from the Underground. Just as in the Underground you can tell a difference between a local and an abover.

But the absolute hatred on their faces as they gaze at me. I can almost read their thoughts, 'Another monster from the Underground' or 'Hah, they're probably going to get executed in the next a few days!'

I hear feet shuffling around me. I pay attention again and see the Scouts moving toward the carriage that had pulled up. It looks like something a Royal would ride in. Two horses pulling it and roof on top and damn massive.

As I walk toward the carriage, I do my best not to limp again and not show my weakness. I get half shoved, again, into the carriage. God damn, these men need to stop shoving me around like a piece of furniture.

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