The Dump

Once again I find myself at the dump in the wastelands of Honduras. The heat is smoldering as the sun sets high in the sky. It is another day of scavenging for me alone as mother is too weak to come along. I hated the dump with the stench of rotted food and death it carried. I had to go though, as my skin was ashen and my bones had started to protrude through. I am nearly twelve, but from the looks of it you would think I was no more than seven, as lack of food and parasites had stunted my growth. My black hair is drenched with sweat and the everyday grease from poor hygiene due to lack of clean water to bathe in. I had no choice, if I didn’t go and comeback with something, my mother and brother would not eat today. My stomach ached and the sound of hollow gurgling was at times deafening, especially when I closed my eyes to sleep, but I didn’t care much about myself, only to be nourished just enough to bring back comforts to my family.

There was another scary element to this place, not unlike the savage beast that would soar down from the skies to pick the dead flesh from a slain animals carcus. The machines with their long arms and razor teeth could easily carry you away or even worse swallow you up. I had seen many bodies strewn about and heard that they where due to the men who would drive the machines in an effort to clear the trash. I thought what monsters could these men be to ignore someone in their path so easily.