Where Fireflies Still Breathe
In this world, people weren't just people.
They were what they were born as.
The mark decided everything.
It decided where you lived, what school you went to, how people spoke to you… even how they looked at you.
Melody had heard it before, from her parents.
Gray families stayed in the smaller houses. Sometimes their lights didn't even work. People spoke over them, ignored them… like they weren't really there.
White markers had more. Bigger homes. Cleaner streets. People didn't push them around as much. They were… safer.
And Black markers?
Melody had only seen them from far away.
They lived where the city shined the brightest—where the buildings touched the sky and everything looked perfect. When they walked, people moved out of their way without being told.
No one argued with them.
No one could.
Her parents always spoke about them in quiet voices, like even saying "Black mark" too loudly might bring trouble to their door.
And the Gray markers
Being a Gray marker wasn't just about being poor.
It was worse than that.
It meant people had already decided you didn't matter.
Copyright © 2026 Zoey7. All rights reserved. This story is original. No part may be used or reproduced without written permission from the author.
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Chapter 2 - A Friend2026-03-25 14:33
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