I've Been to Hell

As I opened the gate with the bolt cutters I slowly walked in. A large group of people stood before me. They were wearing the same clothes, and they were starved to the point you could see their bones creased behind the skin. A man no older than twenty dragged his feet towards me. He stood in front of me and gave me a hug—he was crying. I didn’t know what to do. I kept repeating, “It’s okay.” After about two minutes he let me go, and the man walked off crying. I continued to walk to a building that looked like it was built into the ground. I opened the door and immediately put my hand over my mouth because of the stench I smelled. I turned on my flashlight and saw the people living inside it, starved as well.
I walked out and saw the same man that had been hugging me before, carrying his father or grandfather who was even worse than the rest that I have seen. More people were walking out of those buildings. Many people were stacked along the place, dead. This hell was surrounded by a high barbed-wire fence. I saw an old woman that had a bullet in the back of her head, and I also noticed on the dead bodies that there were branded markings on their arms. This place is hell. White and blue shirts, hats, caps and pants, that’s all that they were wearing—then I heard a faint voice. I turned around and heard, “Lock these people back up again, we have to keep them contained,” said a man in a green uniform.
“Yes sir,” I said.
Category:Military
Category:History
Category:Micropasta