The smell of human waste was intoxicating to our noses. All my senses grew tired as I struggled to stay awake. I had to stay strong. Dayo lay helplessly next to me on the barely covered ground. His eyes faded as light trailed through the shards of the walls. With parched lips from lack of food, they did not feed us. She had been drained of all the energy she had. There were 60 other women like me and my sister, all different ages. We were held captive in steel cages like animals, with nothing but each other. The number had declined rapidly. The women became far too ill and no longer had the strength to hold on. I watched them as they took their last breath, said their last prayer, seeing the light for the last time. Just yesterday, one of the Abeni girls came out of the toilet, which had a hole in the corner of the room, and collapsed. She fumbled weakly to the ground. His eyes closed without a movement in sight. There was an impulsive cry “Dood” “Dood”. She was only nine years old and her limbs were as thin as twigs. No family. She was lying dead. Before we were captured, Dayo and I played for endless hours in the fields. As the sun began to set, the spectrum of colors lit up the Serengeti. Its radiance attracted all life into a calm and serene atmosphere. No sound was heard for miles around as people and animals prepared for nightfall. The cool breeze ran across the plains, playing like innocent children with the trees and shrubs that flowed across it, its warmth welcoming the sleepy moon. Dayo was the type of girl who, when she put her mind to something, achieved it. She was energetic, always full of humor and rarely aggressive. I took care of her as best I could. Our parents had left us after our village was destroyed... middle of paper ... wearing a hat of the same tan color that now filled the room with dust. I tried to speak, but not a single word came out, only mumbles of quiet gibberish. What was happening? I no longer knew the world. It was like I was in a dream, deeper than a dream; my mind had been brought to a place where all erratic thoughts came true. A lie full of life, still forming a great future of sorrow. It was inevitable for me to find myself in some kind of deep universe, in which Dayo did not exist. I had to find a way to leave, to escape this horror, this painful unreality. He stood still in front of the door, staring at me, with no facial expression. I didn't know what to do. Should I leave Dayo? How could I even think about leaving? Slowly lowering his head to look at Dayo, the white boy began walking towards me, his shoes scraping the sand on the ground...