Letter one:
Dear Stranger,
I'm still wearing stripes, because I have to. They don't let you off easy anymore; not like they used to. Long gone are the days when criminals lounged in comfortable jail cells, putting off punishing them for murder with mediocre evidence against them. That is the past...this, well this is now for me. Hopefully it's the past for you. Hopefully you aren't living what I am.
My mother always told me things were changing. It is easy to ignore what you don't want to hear. I would tune out her words, change the television channel, ignore the newspaper headlines. I liked hearing, "United! United under no one! United under ourselves!" It made me feel empowered. Sounds good, right? Who knew that would lead to our own demise?
I'll tell you that I stole. I did it with no shame or depth. When you're cold and starving, you'll do more, go further, than you ever imagined. And when you're still wearing stripes, you'll never forget what you did. You'll still be theirs. Wandering in their territory, letting them devour you...I'll stop their. I don't know how much you can take, how much you can understand, how much you already know.
I do wonder, though, if people will remember us. Or if this era will continue forever...or if it will be forgotten. That's why I'm writing it down.
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