William's eyes fluttered open, the bright sunlight streaming through the window forcing him to squint. His eyelids felt heavy, as if weighted down by some unseen force. *I'm dead,* he thought in a panic. *Is this heaven? No, wait, I'm going to hell. But this doesn't look like hell...* He gasped as a startling realization hit him. *Could it be that I've been reincarnated into another world?*
With a groan, he sat up in the bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, recognizing the familiar, worn-out decor of his room at the orphanage. The reality of his situation crashed down on him. *You fool, as if that was possible.* He shook his head, trying to clear the confusion. The room was just as he remembered it—modest and plain, with a single bed, a small desk, and a few personal belongings strewn about.
A sudden chill ran through him as he remembered the events of the previous night. He quickly opened his shirt to check his stomach. *What the hell?* he shouted, his voice a mix of disbelief and panic.
The door to his room burst open, and Mrs. Beth, a woman in her mid-thirties, entered. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and her face was marked by sunken cheeks, big eye bags, and wrinkles from malnutrition. Despite her beauty, her appearance spoke of hardship. She looked at William with a mixture of annoyance and concern.
"Why are you shouting like that? And where have you been? You didn't come home last night!" she scolded him.
William quickly got up from the bed, his voice a frantic rush. "I was attacked by that fat guy and his friends! They stabbed me!" He fumbled to open his shirt and show her the wound that should have been there.
Mrs. Beth's eyes widened in a sarcastic, shocked expression. "Show me," she demanded.
William opened his shirt, desperately trying to explain, "That's why I was so shocked! I woke up this morning, and the wound was gone. I'm not lying!"
Mrs. Beth grabbed him by the ear, her grip like a vice. "Have you been using stimulants again? Didn't I tell you I'd kill you if you used them?" She twisted his ear painfully, her face a mix of anger and frustration.
William yelped, "Ah, ah, ah! No, it's not that! I just used a little amount!"
Mrs. Beth's expression turned even more sarcastic. "Just a little amount? And you're hallucinating already?" She shook her head, clearly unimpressed.
William protested, "I'm not hallucinating! They really did stab me!"
Hearing the commotion, Mr. Beth entered the room. His eyes softened when he saw William, and he approached Mrs. Beth gently. "What's going on here?" he asked.
Mrs. Beth explained the situation, her voice tinged with irritation. Mr. Beth listened, his face reflecting concern and love for both William and his wife. He took Mrs. Beth's hand off William's ear and looked at the boy with a warm, fatherly expression.
"William, you know Mrs. Beth worries about you. Maybe you should try limiting the stimulants," Mr. Beth said, his tone gentle but firm. He then ruffled William's hair affectionately. "And you should get ready for school. Don't want to miss your last day, do you?"
William nodded, relieved by Mr. Beth's support. "Right, I must not miss school today. It's the most important day."
As Mr. Beth and Mrs. Beth left the room, William quickly freshened up and put on his uniform. He hurried downstairs where the rest of the family was having breakfast. He grabbed two slices of bread and was about to head out when Mrs. Beth scolded him again for his poor eating habits.
"William, you need to eat properly!" she chided.
William flashed her a quick smile. "Love you, Mrs. Beth. Goodbye, everyone!" A chorus of goodbyes followed him as he dashed out the door and began running to school.
The school wasn't far, and he could manage the run despite the weariness from the previous night. As he sprinted, he noticed other students running as well, while some of the wealthier kids were being driven in their father's cars, "those rich bastards".
Suddenly, a bicycle skidded to a stop in front of him, and a boy with brown curly hair hopped off. "Hey, Sam!" William called out, grateful.
Sam, his best friend and only ally, grinned. "Happy birthday! I would've gotten you a present if I had the money, so consider this ride a gift."
William thanked him and hopped onto the bicycle. As they rode, Sam said, "By the way, happy birthday."
William raised an eyebrow. "You know it really isn't my birthday, right? I don't even know my real birthday. They just gave me one."
Sam shrugged. "I know, but it doesn't matter. Happy birthday anyway."
The conversation turned serious. "So, how's your wound?" Sam asked with a hint of sarcasm.
William shot back, "Fuck you."
Sam laughed. "Really? Hallucinating from stimulants? Just how much did you use?"
William replied with a shrug, "The usual amount."
As they arrived at the school, Sam parked and locked his bicycle. "Excited about today?"
William sighed. "I guess."
Sam's face turned thoughtful. "I guess? You know this is about our future. What future do lower-tier citizens like us have? We're just slaves to the middle and higher tiers."
William nodded, his own hope dimming. "Yeah, but I guess we have to keep hoping."
In their world, social discrimination was legalized and rigid. Citizens were divided into three tiers: lower, middle, and higher. Lower-tier citizens were deemed the least important, with their only way of improving their status being through contribution points—earned by significant contributions to society, achievements in war, or dying in battle, with points passing to their next of kin. William, a lower-tier citizen with no hope of rising, felt the weight of this harsh reality.
But as he walked into the school, he knew today might be different.