Second Class Citizen Novels & Stories

“I want better. All the brothers do. Some are still mixed up with the ethnic shit from prison. Maybe they’ll change, maybe they won’t. The rest don’t really give a fuck. Families are diverse in their thinking and if we have each other’s backs and keep the club out of trouble, we can build something solid.” She rolls her eyes and looks at me like I’m stupid. “That’s easy to say but who the fuck do you have doing the cleaning? A wetback spic,” she bites out. “I was born in this country. I’m as American as you and your brothers, but I’ll always be a second-class citizen to the likes of you.”

This upset Carl very much, yet he dared not show it. “Humans are divided into three classes. The lower-class work with their hands, the middle-class work with their minds, and the upper-class work other people. Kareem is in the lower class while father-in-law, you are partially in the middle-class at most. However, Drake Tucker and his group are in the upper-class, do you understand?” Carl was shocked.

“I know a little about them, but as you young folks say nowadays, I can’t be bothered to know all the details about these second-rate noobs!” “Second-rate?” Gerald was startled. “They’re a family made up exclusively by second-rate people. They are even referring to themselves as a hidden clan? Hmph! Clan my ass! Like hell they’re worthy enough to be considered a hidden clan, judging by how poorly they deal with matters.” Finnley shook his head silently.

“I meant, you deserve BETTER than me. Not that you are not good enough for me. Obviously, you’re far too good for me….” “I disagree,” he interrupted, a relieved look on his face as he was obviously holding back laughter at his own misunderstanding. “Just because you’re a Third Class passenger and I’m a First Class passenger, that doesn’t make me any better than you. In a lot of ways, it makes me far worse.”

She remembered the day her father had said, “Girls don’t amount to nothing.” The pain it had caused her was the worst. She couldn’t sleep for nights until she found that justice was what she wanted to serve. The abstract notion of justice applied on all beings. Humans or aliens. But here on Canneti, the humans were the second class citizens. Well of course until the APN took over. Now they were the reigning party members. The journey of Indrani from a student leader in St. Luso’s to an active APN party member was nothing less than fascinating. She had recorded every feeling and emotion in her diary.

“I can tell someone's already tipsy.” “Of course not! Anyway am off to party and dance till my feet drop dead. Stay in your apartment with your boring boyfriend.” Her friend cut the call and Madeline couldn't have been more happier. She pondered on her friend Jane's words. It's not that she was a boring person but at this stage in her life, Madeline couldn't afford to slack off and loose herself for even a second. Unlike Jane who came from a pretty good family background, she could freely lance around but that wasn't the case for Madeline.

“Second, even if all those prejudices from the servants didn’t exist, I would still feel unworthy of you. Our worlds are different.” “It’s not just about social class—it’s because our worlds are truly different. Your life and mine are not the same. When I only know spoons and forks as basic eating utensils, in your world even spoons are divided into several types, as are forks and knives. Such trivial details are enough to highlight the difference between us.”

“Too poor.” I blinked. “Excuse me?” “It’s not up to our elite standard,” she clarified, setting her coffee down with an exaggerated sigh. “Do you even understand the kind of people who attend these event? These are not middle-class nobodies; they’re power market brokers, politicians, society’s elite. We are not doing… that.” Each time I suggested something, her response was the same: “Too simple,” “Too common,” “That’s for low lives,” “Unacceptable.”

"But it's so…" "Vacant? Empty? Void of life? Dirty? If that's what you're thinking, then yes, it is. Of course, not every part of the lower ring is like this." "The lower ring," he pressed down the remaining finger. "The lower ring is the ring that wraps round the middle ring and the upper ring. This is where the 'lower classed'"—he put it in quotes—"citizens live: the farmers, the maids, the male servants, beggars, low-ranked soldiers, and the list goes on. Anyone at the bottom of society lives here.

“Beta Jax made a new rule. All teens have to pick a training program or a community class. We actually wanted to join the make-up class run by Luna Celine.” My heartbeat quickened when I heard that name, but I said nothing and let her continue. “But we weren’t accepted. They said only kids from Class Two or Three could join. We’re all Class One. Children of gardeners, cleaners, and kitchen workers. So when no other class would take us, Sera told us your class was still open.” She lowered her head. “We came because we had nowhere else to go. We’re sorry, Luna.” I froze. For a moment, I felt a surge of anger, not at them, but at this system. At the cruel fact that even children had to learn ea