Hope

"it's soaking the streets

the horror within

pain left behind

crying tears

screams

but it goes on

no stopping it"

~ Debbie Jean Embrey

Who knew I would end up here.

The other side. The side nobody talks about.

The north side.

Every story I heard was horrifying and ended up feeding my hatred for the north more and more. It seemed like everyone on the my side had the same stories about the north. Nobody knew- nor wanted to know what went on there.. well, here. It always remained a mystery patiently waiting for someone to unwrap.

Who would've thought that that someone would've been me. I don't even recall agreeing to my dads question but before I knew it I ended up in the middle of the second strongest side of the town.

Strangely, it did have the same feeling and scent that I imagined. Northlings were described as rich, snobby and selfish, nothing more and nothing less was ever expected from them. They all came from privileged families who never had to work for anything they wanted to achieve in life. The complete and utter opposites of us. A growing anger has been built up inside me in the past years for them. Now, standing here, I feel empty, poor and very cold.

Every house had been built beautifully never missing one detail. Every tree stood with the same amount of space next to the following tree. All of them lined up together perfectly. The streets were, as I figured, flawless. No gum or rats were to be seen and the pedestrians currently walking all wore the same black blazers and neat dresses that must've cost a fortune. My head slowly took in my surroundings, observing every detail quietly. I hated every minute of it. I hated the spotless sidewalks, the neatly shaped bushes, the small bits of bright green grass and I most definitely hated the northlings that were dressed in clothes that were worth the same as a house on our side. The west side was always known to be the troubled side with countless crimes happening every day. We might have the strongest gang, led by my father, but that didn't mean that we had money. We didn't give two shits about money or clean roads. We didn't have much of a choice. Growing up I always learned that all you ever needed to survive was food and reign.

Bickenmore is the place all sides belong two. It's a town where "getting along" is in no ones vocabulary. When my grandfather was young the town began to fall apart and divide itself in sides. North, West, East and South. Every side belonged to a gang that took over immediately. They quickly became to grow and expand. East and South had smaller gangs and had the safest places to live in while North and West had the biggest gangs and the most powerful leaders. West was for the reckless and North was for the snobs. It was always meant to be that way. After my father took over the West side he erased the last bit of respect the sides had for each other. With one mistake he caused every side to have a burning hatred for one another. I was still a baby when that happened. Once i became a toddler my parents put me in a variety of fighting -and defense classes. He made sure I was trained for this. For to follow after his footsteps. To become a leader.

Leaders were the only thing that weren't controlled here. Leaving Bickenmore wasn't an option since you would betray your gang and get killed almost immediately. It's a ride or die life where everyone eventually dies. If you are hated you'll die faster but even if you've never done something wrong you'll still die a young and painful death.

You can never escape the system.

"Can I help you, Miss?" I heard a high pitched, proper voice ask. I froze like I'd been found. I felt my breathing going faster as my hands reached for the knife in my back pocket.

"Miss, are you okay?" I shifted my gaze up to face her. An young woman stood in front of me with a weak smile and uneven eyeliner spread out on top of her eyelids. Her outfit looked expensive, just like I imagined, and her pearl necklaces looked way to heavy to hang around her skinny neck.

She didn't look afraid or mad. Her face held a confused and soft expression.

My hand fell from my back pocket to my hair, tucking a strand of my newly died hair behind my ear. "I'm looking for the Enrique's." I said while straightening my back and trying not to show any emotion. The name even made me shiver. I'd never seen the family in person but I'd always heard horrible things. It only made it worse that I had to pretend I worked for them for the following three weeks. My father needed a messenger, and I of course was there. It always seemed to go that way.

She nodded with an expression I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Just go straight ahead, you'll see it. Are you new here?" She asked.

"Just visiting some friends." I lied, avoiding any eye contact she was trying to make.

"Oh sweetheart, bad choice. Once you're here.." she inhaled a sharp breath. "You can never go back." I could only hear seriousness in the way she spoke. It caused my heart to beat faster and my breathing to speed up. As much as I didn't want to do this, I still couldn't let my father down.

I knew that it was true, what she said.

But it still made me scared.

I could never escape.

I could never live a normal life.

I was born here and I was going to die here. There was no other path I could follow. It all seemed to lead to death. Especially, when you're one of the biggest gang leader's daughter. It all seemed so planned out. You either get killed by another gang or you are hated for being a coward. There was no in between.

I nodded in understanding, and we parted ways soon after. I walked straight ahead. Passed the big mansions and the sumptuous cars. It took me longer than I thought to get there. Probably because I couldn't keep my eyes off of my surroundings. It all looked like a fairytale. As hard as I tried I couldn't think of anything that wasn't done perfectly. It all looked so unreal. At the end of the road there was one of the biggest mansions I'd seen today. I was sure that this was were they lived. Where I would be working. As I approached the it, I couldn't help but hold my breath as I took in it's magnificence.

The gates protecting the home were made of silver pearl stone and the mansion made of polished white rock. Marble statues stood tall and mighty by the entrance and I couldn't seem to take my eyes from the brilliant details on them. I forced myself to look away. I was taken in by it's appearance. It pulled me in, whispering for me to walk in.

The gates were already open so I decided to walk inside. My father already had another messenger, who's working here as well, make sure they would hire me, so all I needed to do was put on a simple act to show off my well behaved self. As I walked onto the stone path leading to the front door in I could feel my jaw drop to the floor. The garden around me was filled with a variety of flowers and plants. A fountain was placed on the left side with water gurgling merrily before me. My eyes shifted to the line of detailed pots next to each stone step. Every pot had a different flower in it. I couldn't tell if they were fake or real. The whole garden was well taken care of, with every bush nicely cut and the grass freshly mowed. It looked like the garden belonged in a travel brochure. Before I stepped inside I noticed a large bell hang next to the door.

Should I ring it? I thought to myself.

I waited a couple of seconds before finally pushing the golden bell. It made a small ring and the wide doors in front of me opened. I admired the garden once more before walking inside the large hall.

I forgot how to breath as soon as I looked around. I took a step closer and took in the essence of inside the home. Large windows with golden lining caused the whole room to have a golden touch to it. The tall ceiling had a spiral staircase coming out of it, probably leading to the second floor. A wave of cold air hit me as I started walking around, making me shiver. I didn't know exactly if I should wait or not so I decided to explore the house myself.

"Excuse me," a cold voice spoke behind me. "Can I help you?" I turned around feeling a little nauseous. A tall woman was gazing intensely at me with crossed arms. She didn't look amused at all and was impatiently waiting for me to explain myself. I took the time to take in her appearance. The woman is absolutely stunning . She has short, black hair, curled loosely on the ends. Her skin is a glowing transulucent which contradicts her dark eyebrows and hair. However, her face is scrunched into a disgusted scowl. I want to squirm when her eyes rake over my body.

"Miss?" She asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Sorry," I apologized, shaking my head. "I'm Raine Williams."

"You're our new assistant?" She asked, clearly judging by looking at me up and down. I practically rolled my eyes at her expression. What's wrong with me? I looked down at what I was wearing. Fishnet pants with black leather shorts and my brothers oversized band shirt. I didn't look fashionable or classy but this was all I had.

"I can assure you that I have a lot of experience and I'm very qualified for the job." I tried. She eyed me once more before nodding quietly. "Fine. I've heard enough about you from Randolf so I guess that you'll do." She shrugged and turned around gesturing me to follow.

I followed her up the stairs into one of the rooms. The entire room was completely golden. How much money did they spend on this? The two chairs facing the desk with gold detail around it were also completely made of gold.

The only thing that didn't hurt my eyes were the paintings on the wall. One of the paintings had a family painted on it. I recognized the lady that I followed right away. Her hair was painted exactly the same and her piercing blue eyes made the painting stand out. Next to her stood a lean and muscular man with a serious expression planted on his face. His bone structure was intimidating and his gray hair was neatly combed to the back of his head. His eyes were painted coldly. No emotion was shown from them. I guessed that he probably was her husband. In front of the couple stood a younger boy that shared both of their features. His hair was pitch black just like the woman and he had the same cold eyes like his father. He also looked intimidating and cold. They didn't look like a typical lovable and warm family. Instead, the looked bone-chilling and cruel. It reminded me of my family.

"it's beautiful, right?" I heard the woman say standing next to me.

"Is that your family?" I asked, as if it wasn't obvious.

She nodded with still no trace of emotion, but I could tell she was admiring the painting just as much as I was.

"So," she started. "Let's get started." We both sat down on the chairs. The gold felt cold through my fishnet tights and I shuddered a little. All I could think about at the moment is how to not blow my cover and end up being decapitated or worse..