06-29-2014, 09:41 AM
I was a younger child in a very shady orphanage in what felt like a Southeast Asian country. The conditions were horrible: overcrowding, hunger, work details. There were mixed races in the orphanage and that was a problem, because foreigners were not welcomed into the country. I was one of those children from another race. I somehow escaped from the orphanage to the streets outside. There, I noticed people roaming the streets with weapons. Bicyclists were carrying assault weapons. There was looting in stores. Men were stealing liquor. There was one very strong man who could lift pallets of items: food, liquor, whatever he could get his hands on. He was tossing aside canisters of propane like they were plastic toys. They were looting because revolution was coming and they were taking whatever they could before there was nothing left. I was just trying to stay out of sight so they wouldn't kill me, because they were shooting or hanging all foreigners and dissidents they could find. I knew I'd be on their list.