I was in a concentration camp for children.  It was a horrible, awful place.  We (my brother and I and the other children) were sitting outside in the dirt.  It was a tiny space for as many of us as there were.  There was a Jewish boy who actually dared to talk to the authorities.  We just paced in the dirt, tracing the cyclone fence that confined us.  This wasn't just our outside realm to spend the day- it was also our only area to sleep and eat.  There was a separate enclosure with a single football.  There was another area with cages and 2-channel, staticky TVs.  There was no shelter from rain.  We were assigned tasks, even as mundane as the pacing.  A boy who was my brother and a little girl somehow made it through a small gap in a gate at an opportune time of retrieving the football.  I faltered in fear and didn't try to escape.  The two crept behind the 'officer's quarters' but nobody knew if they made it any further.  My brother was the only one I knew, and now I was alone.  There was a boy who he had talked to, though.  They had planned an escape attempt and I was supposed to go.  So the other boy and I used another's misfortune as a distraction as our opportunity to escape.  I think it was the Jewish boy who was caught for hiding a possession in the dirt.   He ran not 3 feet from the overseer to uncover a pickaxe.  The other boy and I made our way to the caged area.  There was an ugly exchange of using the pickaxe as a weapon against the fierce lady, barely slowing her down.  The walls of the cages and the TVs toppled on her.  We were free from the detention area, but we were fugitives.  I followed the instructions given by the leader of our escape.  We descended into a gutter.  We were not supposed to slide all the way down the green putrid stench of the gutter, but to cling five feet from the surface.  I thought we would surely be seen, however the boy in the lead seemed to know what to do, and the three guards who were following us continued on past the gutter.