Her fingertips pressed over my lips, I could feel her, the soft touch—it made my veins fill with electricity. Her eyes, it is all I can remember, a bright ocean blue, a color that seemed to constantly fill my thoughts. Then— I wake up.

The sheets are soaked once again, my mouth dry, my body trembling. Swinging my feet over the bed, I let my feet touch the cold hard wood floor. The first thing my head felt, was my hand, pressed up to my temple, that dream, it constantly gave me a headache, one that made me want to jab my own brain out.
Letting out a sigh, I stood, my hand now doing the job of scratching my hair. It constantly was a mess after nights like these. I passed by the room filled with oceanic blue colors, going into the bathroom. Flipping on the light I stared at my reflection. My eyes were a pale green, nothing exciting, my skin a normal pale, my brown hair still standing on ends. Tilting my head to the left, I rubbed the black markings on my neck. Snakes, no, vicious strands. These stupid markings created my place, and caused me to end up with constant ignorance from others.
I stepped out of the boxers that I slept in, drenched in sweat, and then began the morning routine. Shower, brush hair, teeth, make myself pretty for the masses that will never notice me. I walked into my room, a towel wrapped around me as I threw my blanket over my bed, the black comforter was soft, though I found it unsettling. I had to shake that color from my head.
Within ten minutes, I was dressed. The normal black and red suit, my hair jelled back as requested, waiting at the bus stop by my home. More like, a series of homes. Though I never was able to choose where I lived, this was lower class housing, I was third in the ten rankings the rankings of society. There were certain things they are allowed, basically what they receive. The first rankings, they have one marking, a strand of black going over the right side of their neck. They are lowest class, starting from the original 20, two marked with the same ranking, breed to make the same. They receive lowest of everything, and often die in poverty. The second ranking, two strands together, they are slightly higher, they get common items, basically a middle class. My class, the third, gets higher, often we would be higher than the second, becoming the artists, or the creators of beauty in this world. The forth is the same, with better housing, opportunities, basically the Van Gough of people. Fifth is the strength class, the ones who would serve the highest. The markings go from five horizontal, to now vertical strands going across them, creating a design. From there, it seems those were breed to take care of the tenth, the highest of high. The rich, the perfect. The pure. The master race, the rulers, or as they call, Creators of society.
There is a gift each of the levels gain, which is the dreams of their match. They often are of the same rankings, but sometimes, the unlucky, find their match in a lower or higher ranking. Mostly, they
Are killed before anyone can act, but the ones that survive run, run from this controlled society to a place of joy, love, and peace. I think it is a lie. There is no safe place, it is false hope, our lives our scripted, made from birth to death. Even our graves are planned.
The bus picked me up at exactly 10:00. They are punctual, as always. I sat next to Sandy, and elderly 2nd classmen, she was a sweet woman, worked at one of the local restaurants, she constantly would speak about the rare higher class if they came in, or how many people she had.
“Will you visit today? I heard there is a council meeting with the city, at the palace!” She was excited, her smile was so bright, she may have missed a tooth, but she still gleamed.
“Sure sure, but a council meeting? What about?” My curiosity was stolen as she began to ramble on and on.
“Oh the daughter of the creator!” She began, placing a hand on mine, she smelt like a soft lilac, I remembered how her daughter gave it to her last year for her birthday. “She will have her dream soon! Her dream of her match! Oh I cannot wait for the next young fellow to be chosen.” She giggled as if she was teen, thinking about the next story to read. 
“So we are going to go to the meeting why?” I asked, nibbling my inner cheek.
“We need to see if she will take the next crown.” She nodded, looking out the window as the bus stopped, “It’s at 3:30. They will let you leave if you ask! Please do go!” Sandy was gone before I could tell her I may not go.
“That woman always seems to make me go places.” I shook my head, a chuckle escaping me as I let my thoughts go through me, waiting for my stop. The art studio. My home away from home.
The building pushed the sky up wonderfully. This place was filled with two ranks, threes, and fours. The threes—including me, were on the first 10 floors, the four were on the next 10 floors. I didn’t mind it honestly, I still was able to make paintings, beautiful ones. Yes the fours had better studios, better utensils, and better access to muses but, I found too many supplies would limit your creativity.
I decided today to paint the ocean, a bright blue, some would call it the past carribain ocean, now tarnished with ash and pollution. Many would find this fictional, but only I would know why I painted it with such bright colors. To match the beautiful eyes in my dreams.