An ache ran through Kroy’s back, like it did every morning after waking up. The mattress he’d always had brought pain from it's discomfort.

Smelling the air, there was a foul scent. That was nothing new to living in the Hell Sector, the name deemed appropriate for the living conditions. Names of Sectors varied to anything from numbers to former city names. Only the Royal Sector was aware of how many sector's the United Sector -formally called the United States of America- had exactly.

Walking to the kitchen, a can of peaches was opened on the counter from the day before. He grabbed it and picked out one slice at a time as the fruity nectar teased his taste buds. There were a few pieces left, but those were going to be leftover for his younger brother, Everette when he woke.

The sun was slightly peeking through the week curtains that were ragged from years of overuse. The warmth from it's rays were comforting, but it wasn't good enough to actually give Kroy enough heat. Looking through the pantry that he used as his closet, and there were few of each article of clothing. He grabbed his black t-shirt, some skinny jeans, and his brown cargo jacket.

After getting dressed he grabbed the pack of cigarettes on the bedside and lit one. Even after all those years of people saying cigarettes were bad for you, no one ever listened. It was a nasty habit that would just never go away, along with human stupidity and lack of knowledge on how to run a country.

Inhaling deeply, the intoxicating feeling made Kroy’s brain do mini back flips. He didn't know where he would be right now if I didn't have this little push every morning to get me through the day. Even though the nicotine made his heartbeat quicken, it came with a calming relief that he’s always loved.

When the stick was only seconds away from burning his fingertips, he dropped it on the floor and turned it to ash as he stepped on it. The floor was already a mess, so he didn't bother cleaning it up.

From the corner of his eye Kroy could see the front door handle start to jiggle. Quickly, he grabbed his switch blade from his pocket and readied himself for the intruder. The door swung open, but before he could make his attack, Everett stood in front of him. He was bruised and Kroy could tell he was a bit shaken up, but he just walked passed him.

"What the hell were you doing out?" I yelled, closing the door behind his younger brother. "I thought you were in your room." There was only one room in this apartment, and Kroy gave it to him, knowing anyone who would break in would go to the kitchen first, which was where he slept.

"Well I wasn't," he said, almost as if it didn't matter. Rett lifted a bag full of what could only be food and nodded towards it. "I was just out doing some grocery shopping."

"Give me that." Kroy grabbed the bag of goods and emptied it on the counter.

Food wasn't the only thing that landed on the counter, a pistol made a clattering noise as it fell on there with the canned veggies and loafs of bread. Kroy picked it up and inspected it. No one was allowed firearms here except for the guards that patrolled the streets at curfew.

"How did you get this?" he snapped.

Rett shrugged. "Found it. Thought it could be useful."

"It's only going to get us killed if people find out we have it."Kroy let his anger simmer down a bit before grabbing Rett’s chin and turning it to the side, revealing a small cut and a bruise surrounding it. "What happened?"

Rett sighed and shook his head. "I couldn't help it," he began another one of his stories. "A couple was walking home and they were getting mugged, because they were carrying around a little too much money. I saved them and in return, they gave me the food. I was helping people Kroy, just like those stories mom used to tell us about the people who stood up and fought against the bad!"

Kroy rubbed his eyes and groaned. "Those are just stories, Everett. You can't be going out being some vigilante."

A grunt came from Rett as he passed, bumping shoulders with him.

"I'm going to work," Kroy told him before he escaped to his room. "You are not leaving this apartment until I get back, and lock the door when I leave."

Before leaving, he pulled his combat boots up over his skinny jeans. They were the only shoes Kroy had, but since they were meant for much worse than he went through on a daily basis, they held up just fine. Their black color was fading into a scratched up grey, but they were better than nothing.

After exiting, he waited patiently for Everett to listen and lock the door. Once he heard the click, he was on my way down the hall and towards the stairs.

Kroy often wondered what it would be like to live as an upper class citizen in the Sectors. How you would be waited on by servants and drove the fancy cars and ate the most amazing foods like cakes, fresh meat, and anything else that wasn't canned. Always having fresh clothes, not having to worry about starving to death, a comfortable bed.

Exiting the apartment complex, the air was fresher accompanied with a slight chill. He took a deep breath of the cool air and then let it out, giving the illusion of smoking as his breath was seen as he let it out. He zipped up his jacket and rubbed his hands together to warm them.

Now he would have a little under a five minute wait with all the other Hell Sector residents who were old enough to work. The bus was always on time, so everyone would show up a few minutes early.

Grabbing a spot in line next to my friend Gabe, he greeted Kroy with a smile and a handshake. "How are you, Kroy?"

"I've been better," he admitted.

Gabe was a couple years older than Kroy, turning twenty-seven in a couple days. His physical appearance was much like his own, black hair, muscular build from lifting heavy equipment each day, and standing at about six feet tall. There was probably no one Kroy had ever met with a better attitude than him, though. Even when the world we live in is shit, he still wanted to stay positive.

A pat on the shoulder was his response to Kroy’s answer and he returned the gesture.

When the bus came to the bus stop, everyone started boarding it until no one remained. Gabe and Kroy shared their usual seat as he sat by the window. Usually people hated sitting on the inside, but Kroy didn't care. He was always interested in looking out and seeing more of the world. This was the only time he ever left the rundown town he lived in, and he liked to make the best of it.

At first they ran down the same path as they did everyday, but this time, the bus took a left turn instead of a right. This road headed into a different Sector, but of course they wouldn't actually go into it, that being illegal without the proper authorization.

Before they crossed the Hell Sector border line, the bus made another left turn. Kroy looked  out the window, a wooded area ran by for a little while, the dominant trees being the American Ash. The only reason he knew anything about tree types was because of his mother. He'd often joke and call her ‘Mother Nature’, because she'd always randomly tell him all these nature facts, such as different tree types and random animals that sounded strange.

The wooded area soon disappeared and he could see the faint outline of a city ahead. From far away, it didn't look too run down. When the bus started to slow down, he could see the work area that was on the other side of the bus.

People were working there already, lifting heavy boxes full of whatever the city nearby had asked for. It was obvious that they were from a different Sector just by the way they dressed and how they didn't look like something bad was going to happen every five seconds. This group of people who ranged from their early twenties to late forties looked more well fed, but they wouldn't be working if they weren't forced to. They were a rundown Sector, just like Kroy’s, pushed into submission by a more powerful force.

The doors of the bus opened and everyone got up and left in an orderly fashion. Wary looks were traded between the two Sectors, for obvious reasons. Both Hell Sector and theirs -most likely- have never seen any other group other than themselves. Now they were being forced to work together with no warning or direction.

"Nothing has changed," Mr. Ergo (the boss) said, noticing the confused expressions. "You will be working together just this once because there was an unforeseen loss of numbers recently and a combined effort was needed for the job. Now all you guys have to do today is move these cargo boxes onto that cargo train and then you can go home."

Mr. Ergo was a businessman from a Sector a couple classes above Kroy’s. He wasn't rich, he was more middle class, but that was rich considering Hell's living conditions. Ergo wore a nice suit, or at least, Kroy’s definition of nice.

Gabe, the rest of the Hell Sector workers, and Kroy made our way to the work area. The looks they were getting from the other workers were really starting to annoy him, but he didn't let it phase him too much. He just wanted to do his work, get paid, and go home.

After a few hours of loading multiple boxes of various sizes and weight, it was finally time to go back.

"That wasn't too bad," Gabe commented as he stepped back onto the bus. "Maybe we'll get paid extra for the inconvenience."

Kroy smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. This guy was way too positive all the time. His attitude really coincided with Kroy’s depressing one. "You are way too happy all the time."

"Well if I'm not, who will be?"

He had a point there.

***

Kroy’s muscles ached as he walked back to the apartment, but the money hidden away in the bottom of my boot made him feel a lot better. He was rewarded with thirty dollars today, which was more than usual. While living here, you really saw the value of money.

On the bright side, they had enough food for a couple days, but that did mean there was a longer amount of time where the thirty dollars he earned could be stolen. It would have to be hidden away in the secret compartment he created in the wall behind my mattress.

Walking back into the apartment, the gun was gone off the kitchen counter, and Everett was nowhere to be found as well. Kroy cursed under his breath and ran out of the building. Hearing shouts a couple blocks down, he followed the noise and found Everett at gunpoint with the same gun he had taken from somewhere.

"This will teach you not to steal you good for nothing street rat!" A guard grabbed hold of his brother's hand and placed the gun on his palm. He took the safety off, but before he could do anything, Kroy pleaded for him to stop.

"Please, he's just a foolish teenager!" Kroy’s words caught his attention. "He won't steal again. I'll make sure of it."

The officer looked over Everette once more. When he nodded and let Everett's hand fall at his side, Kroy could feel himself start to breath again.

"If I ever see this kid anywhere near my firearms again, it won't just be his hand that he'll lose!"

When he left around the corner, Kroy walked over to Rett who was still shaking from fear. Sweat rolled down his face and his breathing was still uneven. Not caring about the situation he was just in, Kroy grabbed his upper arm roughly and dragged him all the way back to the apartment. Once they were back, he was back to his arrogant self.

"I had that completely under control," Rett argued.

Kroy couldn't help but bark out a laugh as Everett said this. Then his tone turned serious. "I could have lost you today! I've already lost one person I love in this Hell hole, I can't lose you too."

Rett's expression softened as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I-I'm sorry," he choked. His eyes filled with tears as he spoke. "I know I'm hard to deal with, but ever since mom-"

Nodding in understanding, Kroy leaned in for a hug. Everett accepted the sign of affection and wrapped his arms tightly around him. "I know, bud. I know." He patted his back, signaling the end of their moment.

"Don't call me bud," he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"You're seventeen. Still a kid in my eyes." Kroy smiled and patted him on the shoulder before grabbing a can of tuna for each of us.

"I'm only a kid to you, because you're getting old," he grinned at his comeback.

"Twenty-five is not old, bud."

Everett rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Kroy."

Days like this when him and his brother got along were more usual than some would think. Even though he made him more angry than anyone ever could, and brought trouble wherever he went, there was no one Kroy loved more. He didn't know what he would do without him.

They were more than just brothers, they were best friends too.