"...Believe me, Blondie. I couldn't give less fucks about humanity's survival and all that..."
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If given the right circumstances, everybody can be a killer. But if given the chance, everyone can be a hero...
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"If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich." ~John F. Kennedy
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This place.
This place, that everyone wanted to escape, this place, that no one could escape for long.
They wanted to go outside, see the sun, feel the rain, but life decided to take that chance from them when they where born in the wrong place.
The Underground City.
Everyone in the Underground City tried to survive in some way, some were better off than the others, but no one was really well.
Crime control was a joke. The military police was a joke. You had to take what you got, or else you were dead. You had to survive in some way.
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"There is so much wealth and so much misery at the same time, that it seems incredible that people can endure such class difference, and accept such a form of hunger while on the other hand, the millionaires throw away millions on stupidities." ~ Frida Kahlo
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As a little girl was sitting on some filthy bench, her eyes scanned the military policeman as he walked by, not even glancing at her while he ate his bread hungrily.
Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry, she was always hungry.
Just as she wanted to stand up and run after the man to ask him for a little peace of his bread, a dark voice stopped her.
"I'm back." The voice spoke. The girl turned to the side, her eyes catching a basked filled with apples in the man's right hand.
Her eyes widened a little at the sight.
"Here." The man said, putting the big basket beside the girl on the bench.
She smiled a little at the nice gesture. "Thank you, fathe—"
He stopped her words. "Stop it...take that and walk away. We won't see each other anymore." He spoke in a serious tone, looking down at the smaller girl with a stern expression.
Her smile fell.
"Why?" She asked.
She didn't know the man well, she saw him from time to time when he would bring her food.
But other then the few times he taught her how to write and read, nothing more.
The man was the only adult she knew for as long as she could remember, so he had to be someone important, right.
