albion fortess - d12f - cb - fin

I care too much.

That's what they told her. "You have the perfect life - plenty of money, healthy parents, a nice house. Why do you bother with the Seam kids?"

Because if I were them, I would want someone like me.

She waited for them after school, bright smiling faces. Many of them had dark eyes and sunken cheeks but they were happy to see her. She brought them sweet pastries from the bakery and sat with them in a circle. They would tell her about the dreams they've had; places outside the district, colorful and full of life. It was everything they read from the books she lent them. She knew the world wasn't kind - it had never been kind to them, but children should dream. I know I did.

She tutored the ones who needed it. Some of them would grow up to become teachers, waiters, janitors, and those were the higher paying jobs. She wanted them to be shining stars, but some of them would fall to the coal mines. Trapped underground and exposed to the perils.

Some would die before they grew up.

That was the life cycle of the Seam. People starved, dehydrated, vanished, and the survivors had to actively seek out happiness if they weren't too busy trying to survive. So many of them live without truly feeling alive. She wanted to be their happiness, even if it was only temporary.

Her own life didn't compare. She was well-educated, situated in a cozy home, and her parents hosted tea parties for the Peacekeepers who respected them for their money. Albion was supposed to be satisfied, grateful, and she was. But privilege did not complete her. She was comfortable, but that alone would not make her happy. There had to be a purpose, and that purpose was to fulfill the wishes of those less fortunate.

"You're not a hero, Al."

Maybe not, but in their eyes maybe she could be.