Down here in the Slums nothing is bright. Everything’s dark, depressed, cast in a permanent state of grey and no one to come and pull us out.

Here anything that could possibly bring happiness and joy was forbidden and taken away to be brought to the Highlands, for the rich and pompous to enjoy. Those up there’s get all our possessions, all we get is a holding place and ratty clothes. The only thing they let us keep. To keep us alive in this gruesome life.

We’ve been isolated for so long I can’t remember what my own parents look like. Once those who’ve miraculously been impregnated have given birth, we are separated from our mothers. Given milk only when completely necessary. That was the last time I saw my mother. That dreadful day when I was weaned. And I can’t even remember it.

My father was killed. As soon as they find the father they kill them so they can’t make more children. They’re slaughtered as an example of punishment. To strike fear in us. But we make a way. We always have.

There’s a secret place down below the Slums that not even the Highland guards know about. A safe haven for those who’ve escaped, or those who’ve become pregnant and have somehow hidden this fact, or fathers who’re running from the Highland’s eyes. Anyone who needs an escape. That is where we go.

It is a large tunnel underneath the Slums. The walls are made of compact dirt and the ceilings of chiseled stone.

David Lesley, a Highland castaway, first discovered the tunnel. When he finally realized just how terrible it was down here he created The Light. Just one person could make a difference, and this person did just that and more.

At least there we are given a life of our own. We’re given the ability to have children without fearing for their lives and ours. Here we are able to get married, to be forever bound with each other. We can see each other’s faces. And we have taken back our joy.

The rebels up in the Highlands supply the cause. They buy from merchants and send down the products to us through the lift concealed with the slob we’re given to eat.

They are constantly being our voice, gently tipping the scale in our direction without being noticed. Someday we’ll take back our freedom. Someday we will take back our liberty. And when that day finally comes there will be no stopping us.

That will be the day the Slums will be no more. And we will rejoice.