Chapter One
The Street Where It All Began

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The wind rustled the leaves of trees softly as Simon made his way up his road. His best friend was beside him, talking about some drama that had happened at school. There was always drama at school, it was their last year and he couldn't care less anymore. He was waiting till he was nineteen, desperate to leave the routine he was so familiar with. School, dinner, homework, bed, repeat. The only thing that broke it up was Harry. They had been best friends since before they could remember, being bought up on the same street and going to the same school. It had reached the point where their families would have special meals together, celebrating their birthdays and Christmas as a unit.

Each house on their road looked the same. They were painted white with blue doors, a small garden out the front with a white picket fence dividing it from the cardboard copy of next door. There was a driveway with a space for two cars - most families on this road could afford that - and though the cars were all different there wasn't much variety. Porsches and Aston Martins, Mercedes and BMW's were parked. If it was thirty years ago, Simon would have been able to drive by now but the law had changed from seventeen to nineteen. Everything was nineteen now. To leave school, to drive, to drink alcohol. Not that everyone followed the last law, many found ways around it. Even Simon and Harry had been drunk a few times, Harry more so. Simon knew his mum would be disappointed if she discovered he didn't follow every rule to a T - she was terrified of any of them becoming marked.

They had learnt about it in History even though it was fairly recent compared to everything else they learnt about. When his parents were children a new president of the United States was elected just after we had gotten a new Prime Minister. She worked with the new President and together they came up with 'marks'. Prisons were filling up with mediocre crimes and the government believed that ex-prisoners were let off to easily. Instead, they decided on a way to punish those who did wrong without having to waste space in jail. They were marked. Simon had only seen pictures of what a mark looked like, none lived near his neighbourhood but he knew they were deep cuts of a triangle on your right cheek. An intricate pattern was inside the triangle, added in the design for extra pain. The law was that they had to be recut every six months so that they didn't heal. Pain killers were given though and, although they were awake for the incision process, the prisoners never felt it. Simon had to write an essay on why this was once, he had decided it was so it was still humane for the public to agree.

"And then she slapped him in front of everyone! Aw man, you should've seen it!" Simon focused back on Harry as they turned up the driveway to Simon's house. He had told his mum Harry was coming over and she had already emailed to have his dinner sent to their house instead. In their neighbourhood, dinner was bought to them by a Food Van every night. They cooked breakfast and lunch themselves but their dinners were made specially to help strengthen the individual. If they were ill, medicine would come with food to help their immune system. If they had missed breakfast that day, extra food would come with dinner. Simon had forgotten more than once to enter in him eating breakfast and, when extra food did turn up, his Mum would always panic that they would get into trouble. Simon had given up trying to explain that no one would know.

"Sorry man, Mrs Kerbopple kept me behind to finish my conclusion." He had purposefully not written his essay the night before and paid for it by having to write it in class. English happened to be just before lunch as well so he missed the first ten minutes, when all the drama happened.

"It's cool!" Harry was always so happily enthusiastic and Simon smiled, he needed the positive energy around him. "I'm well hungry." He dropped his school bag on the floor by his bright red shoes as Simon shrugged off his plain jacket.

"Very hungry, Harry!" Simon's mum corrected Harry as they walked into the kitchen together.

"Sorry, Mrs Minter" Harry smiled warmly at her. She dodged around them, bustling about as she put away her food shop. Harry started to empty one of the bags, passing things to Simon who began putting them away.

"It's okay," She ruffled Harry's hair as she passed. "How was your day, boys?"

"Good!"

"Same old," Simon shrugged, putting yoghurts into the fridge before turning to find two bottles of milk being shoved to him by his friend. "Yours, mum?"

She started to tell them a story she had heard on the news of a group of people beating up Marks. They were apparently travelling in a group of 8 or so and hunting down Marks who didn't have a home. Although it was possible for them to be housed, the communities built specifically for Marks were starting to overflow so many had taken to the streets.

"They don't deserve that to be fair," Harry commented as she paused, checking if they were still listening.

"No but don't worry yourselves boys. Scarred don't come around here." She smiled at them both but it was tight. Simon hated that she would use the harsh term for them. They had stated they prefer Marks as Scars made it sound negative. They weren't murders, they were people who couldn't pay their bills, small time thieves or people who spoke up about their opinions. They weren't criminals, they just didn't conform. You weren't allowed to use 'Marks' in this neighbourhood though.

Harry insisted on a game of FIFA. Unsurprisingly, he lost to Simon but he had been trying to get better on the new Fifa. For some reason he just couldn't get his head around the game.

"How do you pass like that?" He exclaimed as Simon chipped the ball over one of Harry's players and proceeded to use another to score a goal.

"Just skilled, init." Simon chuckled as his striker celebrated on screen. Harry huffed, dropping his controller onto the bed and falling backwards. "Rage quitting is for weaklings,"

"Nah bro, you just have hacks!" Harry threw his arms up, being over dramatic. Simon was chuckling.

"Boys! Dinner!" Simon's dad shouted up the stairs and the boys grinned, scrambling to get to the door. They were both starving and couldn't wait to munch on whatever dinner was. Simon grinned at the bowl of pasta that was in his table place, cheese topped up more
than the rest. He had sent a form requesting extra cheese whenever it was part of the meal and it had been accepted on the agreement that he would get more vegetables when there were any. He didn't mind this, it balanced out his health and he quite liked vegetables.

Harry skidded in behind him, celebrating as he sat in the guest seat. He was the only regular guest, however, so it was practically his. Simon's brothers were already sat down and greeted the two younger boys. It wasn't often that they were all there, usually at least one of the three older men at the table would be working but Simon wasn't going to complain. Though he didn't care about 'family' dinners too much, he knew they made his Mum happy.

She was sat at the head of the table grinning at her boys, including Harry, before she lay her hands out. They linked hands and Simon slouched slightly. "Thank you May," Mrs Minter started the thank you speech to their prime minister. "For blessing our country and changing what needed to be changed. We thank you for our food and safety."

"Thank you." Everyone around the table repeated clearly. Simon was the only one that mumbled. He felt stupid. They dug into their food, Harry filling his mouth almost as soon as his hands were free.

They were about half way through their meal when a commotion outside made them all pause instantaneously. No one shouted in their neighbourhood, everyone was either eating or quietly in front of their TVs. The family stared at each other, not knowing what to do with themselves.

Simon was the first to stand, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. He couldn't understand why no one else was moving. Exasperated, he made his way to the door, fleeing from the kitchen too quickly for anyone to stop him. Harry followed, as did his family. His mum was the only one telling them to stop as she pulled up behind the group. The door flung open as Simon skipped down the steps to their driveway, looking around for the problem. Curtains of houses flickered but no other family was on the street. Simon's dad stopped his other sons, Harry refused to take a step off of the porch as he watched his best friend.

They all spotted the man at the same time. He came running down the road, shouting for help. As he approached, Simon realised he wasn't a 'man' at all, they must have been similar age.

"Are you okay?" Simon shouted out, the street lights illuminated the boys expression of sheer panic. He shook his head in response, slowing down as he came to a stop outside Simon's house.

"Help," He coughed out as a car screeched around the corner. It also skidded to a stop only a few metres away from Simon who was now walking towards the helpless boy. He spotted the Mark on his cheek but only paused slightly. It shouldn't stop him from helping another human being.

Men jumped out of the car, weapons in their hands as they cackled, walking slowly towards the boy as though he was prey.

"Simon!" His mum screeched at him but his dad stopped her from coming any closer.

They were the men from his mothers story earlier, he could feel his heart sink as the boy panicked, turning to back away. He was tired, Simon could tell, he wouldn't be able to run anymore.

"Come on little scar boy, come here." One of the men sneered. "Ain't nothing you don't deserve."

Simon felt anger boil under his skin as he vaulted over the fence to jump in between the Marked and the man.

"Back off." He stated, a rush of confidence flying through him and disappearing just as quick as he took in how muscular the man was. He was at least double the width of Simon himself, who was pretty much a twig.

"Or what, pretty boy?" The man sneered again, his friends coming to stand behind him. He must have been a kind of leader, the way he held himself slightly further forward made that clear.

Simon didn't have a verbal response. Instead, he reacted a way he never had before. He pulled his arm back and punched the man around the face, catching his chin and sending him tottering backwards into his friends.

His mum screamed out again as blue and red lights came flashing around the corner. Simon turned to the Marked boy who was leaning against the fence, barely able to hold himself up.

"Are you okay?" He asked again, softer this time.

"You shouldn't have done that," The boys eyes were wide still as there were shouts behind them.

"I'm Simon," Simon started before his arms were pulled behind him. A cop cuffed his wrists as he tried to struggle away. "I didn't do anything!" He started to protest.

"Simon Minter, you're being arrested on suspicion of sympathising with the Scarred. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." The cop held him tight before leading him to a car. Simon stared at his family and Harry as he was pulled away from them. The boy was being arrested too but he wasn't putting up any kind of fight as he fell limp in the cops arms.

"He hasn't done anything wrong!" Harry shouted, finally coming to his friends defence. They locked eyes, determination etched across Harry's face as Simon was pushed into the back of the police car.

He was driven away from his home and everything he knew.

~
hello

this story is going to be more book-like with longer chapters and a more set direction

so please, pleaaaase let me know how you feel about at least this first chapter.
much love xo