As I walk through these empty streets, observing each crack in the sidewalk, every brick on the buildings, every piece of glass in the streets and every body in the pits I begin to realize it is getting dark. The cloudy skies are filled with smoke and smog. The smell of burning flesh is on every corner. The faint cry of children can be heard in the distance as their mothers are being raped and abused. Fathers have been arrested and deported to work facilities. Town shops have been closed, public transportation shut down. Anyone unfit to work or walk, anyone who was physically or mentally unable to function in any way was automatically disposed of. I however was spared. For the moment of course. I sold myself to a man every morning in return for the freedom to stroll the streets whenever I please... as long as I did not interfere with the cruel and inhumane actions taking place around me. You may ask why would I do this unholy act... well in my eyes I would rather give it then have it stripped from me against my will. I have watched many women and girls be taken from their homes, clothes stripped from their bodies, and children tossed to the side as the men had their way. The crying and screaming at first was unbearable but I knew that my own life would be taken if I tried to stop it. So all I could do was watch as these poor women cried and stared at me... longingly for my freedom. In the beginning a few men were being recruited to come and work at a new factory, but soon dozens at a time and eventually entire blocks were being cleared out. Males ages thirteen and up were arrested for minor crimes or deported to this "factory". No one returned. Then the burning began. Every night large fiery pits could be seen from my window. The stench so strong that not even a score of candles could mask the smell. This is my daily life in hell. It once was a beautiful place filled with joy until the men in black arrived. Their piercing eyes watching our every move. My beauty is what saved me. A man whose name I do not know admired my curves and thick hair. My skin tone vibrant and golden. He took me for himself. This is why I may observe the town. How free the cracks in the street seem. Free to run wherever they please. The glass free to retaliate against and bare feet. The bricks free to fall once they can no longer take the weight of the building. How free they are. This is why I observe them. If only I could be a crack in the street.