Writing Wednesday #10 ~ Rich

I've done 10 of these! It's only taken me 6 months! This may seem rushed, as I literally have half an hour to write this in to still qualify as a Writing Wednesday. I will endeavour to make this as good as I can, time allowing!
Also, I started NaNoWriMo today, I changed my word goal to a semi-realistic 20,000 in a month, rather than 50,000, now that would be optimistic. I currently have 484 words written, out of a daily expectation of 667, so I'll go work on that now.

Rich

The Rich side of the wall felt infinitely different to my home in the Poor. No, I berated myself, I had been Exchanged, my home was the Rich now. There was a harsh contrast between my old home and my new; the Rich was colourful, not a single shade of grey in sight; it was welcoming, all of its buildings tempting you to enter. However, it was quiet, there was no bustle of the Poor, no companionship in the air, no sense that you are in the same boat as everybody around you.

I looked towards the Mediator's podium for guidance, but he was gone for another year. Where were the people who must have seen my predecessor off? Were the Rich really as isolated as this?

An urgent hiss came from my right. The boy hidden in an alley motions for me to go towards him. Seeing no other option, I stepped towards him, as he took a step back, further into the alleyway.

"This isn't the best of welcomes, you know," I pointed out to the boy, who, in the darkness, appeared to be the same age as me.

"You just replaced one of our own, my sister, I don't think you get much say in how good a welcome you get." He continued into the alley, one hand reaching backwards and catching hold of my wrist. "I need to get you away from their eyes," he whispered urgently, plunging us deeper.

"Whose eyes?"

"The Mediator's. He may be gone from his little pedestal, but he's certainly not done with you yet. It just keeps getting worse." The last was muttered with a shake of the head, a glance back at me before picking up his pace.

"I thought this was the Rich, that everything is fine here."

"You keep believing that. Why do you think it's colourful out there? To keep you Poors from guessing. To keep you interested. To pacify you."

"Is it not colourful everywhere? What are they stopping us from guessing?"

Finally emerging from the tunnel he was dragging me down, we arrive in a world of grey; grey buildings and equally grey faces greet us.

"That we have it as bad as you do."