I swiftly swing the ragged and worn out, home-made satchel across my sweating body. Whoever had left the bag full of items behind surely didn't need it anymore and even if they did, they weren't getting it back.
Theft? No, we don't have that around here anymore. Nobody has any real possessions, everything you see, know and love belongs to everyone.
It was almost sun set and I knew that meant I had to get a move on. You definitely don't want to be out after sun set.
Uncle Damien always sends me out on supply runs. He tells me that he's getting too old to look after me anymore. I know that it was miserably true.
He was the person who took me in once my parents were chosen to live in the Queendom of Belisama.
I didn't and still don't understand how you could leave an innocent child behind without any qualms, or why everyone had just abandoned me so suddenly.
We were all tested for the perfect race of humans. They had a scale of everything all the way from looks to personality. If you wasn't over an eight on the scales, you wasn't getting in.
Uncle Damien told me that my parents only left me because they were selfish and scared.
Scared people run away.
Earlier that day, I had searched the local area but nothing of any purpose was found. I mean, I knew in the back of my mind that there wasn't going to be anything. Why would there be? They had already taken it all away from us.
I clenched my fists tightly.
I hated thinking about them. They had everything; the precious valuables, the privileged rights, the palaces and the royalty. However, they weren't ever going to have what we had here at Ryvvendor. They didn't have freedom.
Though they like to believe that their perfect little society is better than ours, they're ever so wrong.
Making us stupid does not make them smart. Making us feel hurt does not make them feel better. Making us scavenge and hunt does not make them the almighty.
I kick open the wooden, front door; letting the evening sun glimmer off of shattered glass and broken car parts.
The streets were filled with the usual sights of beautiful destruction.
A deathly smell of rotten garbage mixed with expired oil hung heavily in the thick and foggy air.
I wanted to take it all in. All the imperfections and the left overs. I didn't care about the creme de la creme, or the greatest version of things. I wanted all of the graffitied and vandalised walls, the burnt to a crisp, ashy buildings even the confused and depressed people who decided to waste all of the opportunities that this land hides. This was home. This was all my home.