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PROLOGUE
The end
“The Ravens were the highest earning group of people. They constituted about 99.9% of the world’s economy by the year 2300. Subsequently rich became richer and poor became poorer. Today what we have is unique and impeccable. Our ancestors had worked hard to catalyze a change. The world is free of money. Earning respect and love has replaced earning money. We don’t have to pay for anything rather we get it for free. But of course we work, we work for what we believe in.” Mrs. Collins gazes at the textbook vigilantly as if she were looking at the night sky; the perfect blend of the dull sky with purple tendrils drilling into a shadow of dark blue and the stone shaped diamonds as if guardedly assembled on them. She closes the book. She is curling her hair and letting it go repeatedly. The noise of the clock startles her, she jumps off her chair gracefully and steps on the floor without even a thud, then she moves around a bit walking and sometimes dancing through the breeze.
The classroom is not so fancy with its white walls expanding into a large room, the pale floors match perfectly with low rise ceiling. The room has an air conditioner which makes an annoying but familiar sound of sea breeze floating through the dirt of the grounds. Chairs have been fitted with a little gap between them, the clumsy arrangement makes it rather amusing to look at. The white expanse of fulfillment fills the room. The straight alignment of the chairs and the desks gives way to the narrow room called the Notice room. The blackboard is old and has been dilapidated due to the continuous storms coming our way. The walls have cracks on them as if the roots of a tree sowed deep inside the pale broken floors are trying to let loose. I step away from my place which is filled with doodles and has been eyed by many people. The room is filled with rampant chattering and blabbering, the noise has seemed to intermingle with the walls of the room.
Mrs. Collins has seemed to take notice of the vociferous surrounding and begins to go back to her chair. She stamps her feet loudly and gracelessly as if a tiger inside a kitten has been let loose. She untwists her hair, the blond lock of hair perfectly harmonizes with her olive skin, her hair is tied up into a messy bun which lets out a lot of free strands brushing through her skin and coloring them. She is rather tall when she stands up. She coughs out some of her nervousness and lets the air absorb her fear. She then claps her hands suppressing the rebellion going between the people. She looks at us directly against her crooked wooden rim glasses painted with black strips, her eyes don’t bulge out rather they stay in their places and their intensity gets amplified. She clears her throat and begins to speak in an indistinguishable voice, “Children please gather around me. I have something really important to tell you.” She smirks while looking blankly but strongly at every one of us, “The day has come..” Everyone looks at each other and fear gushes inside of us. There is no escape we have to choose now. The Toil Day has come and it has been waiting fervently for our homecoming.
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