I can still remember the smell of bacon wafting in on a Sunday morning. Now, more than ever, I'm in love with that savory aroma. It smells like home. I can't smell home here; I don't want to smell anything. Yet that sad odor seems to keep creeping into the rooms until it sneaks into my nose. It makes me nauseous and my eyes are starting to water, although that might be me crying from my homesickness. I miss my family. But no one has a home anymore, or a family. All of that has been destroyed, along with all happiness and joy. Only misery remains.

The aristoes now control everything, which isn't much, but it does include us—the lower class. The only reason is because they have money. It's preposterous, considering money is just as worthless as everything else. The aristoes are just like us, especially with no excuses like material items to get in the way. We're all humans, nothing but animals.

We have no society, no laws. Still, the aristoes continue to control us. Why? There's no reason, like I said: we hardly have anything to distinguish us from one another. We're the ones locked up, it's not like the outside world is any better though. There's nothing. Rock, ash, and high class scum is all that's left.

Our planet is slowly dying, gradually burning from the inside out. My mother, when she was alive, used to tell me this would eventually happen. She said the day would come when Earth would be entirely engulfed in flames. The first signs of our planet's slow death would be the disappearance of water. There's not much left, the little present is safely stored by the upper class. I barely remember seeing water. I saw it once, when I was very small. If you showed it to me now I doubt I would recognize the substance.

The signs went on to the perishing of plants and animals, since it's obvious that they can't survive without water. Eventually the temperature began rising, little by little the climate heightened. The sun blazed everyday, and I've only ever seen the sky look red. I heard from my mother that the sky used to be blue. I have no recognition of that.

You might be wondering, if only the aristoes get water, how do we survive? Everyone knows humans can't survive without water. Well, we're fed powder or pills, every hour on the dot. All I know about them is they either taste like nothing or are appalling. I've heard rumors about them being high in oils, sugars, and something to hydrate us. No one knows exactly what they are though. They also say they're trying to use them to fatten us up and the hydrating part is only to keep us alive.

The aristoes is paradise compared to the hell around them. You can't find a better, more luxurious place here. They're the ones to at least have some family, water, and I guess decent food. What I don't understand is why they bother surviving. Even if I was in 'heaven' like them I would still want to die. I want to die because there's nothing to live for. Everyone stuck around me thinks it all the time. I'm not some delusional, suicidal person.

I have no family. My life is empty. Never mind, I lied, my life is filled with torture. The aristoes treat all us low class scum, well, like scum. I've only been trapped for nearly my whole life and this world has nothing left to appreciate. There's nothing to enjoy.

I would kill myself if I had a way to. I can't stop eating; the upper class will stuff it down our throat. If they see we're beginning to choke then they'll inject the 'food' into our bloodstream instead. For them it's as simple as that, but it's so much more difficult for me. We're constantly being watched. Even if I wanted to go for the most accessible death-suffocate myself-I would immediately be stopped. All I can do is watch and wait for it to be my turn to die. Because do you really think that I could get my hands on a weapon?

Each one of us is nothing but a number now. I've even forgotten my name, so not even I know my own identity. I have yet to meet someone who does. Actually, I bet each of the upper class has a name, along with a whole identity. Remember how I said we're animals? Especially the lower class because of the whole identity issue and we're forced to breed. No sex, making love, coitus, or whatever you call it. We breed; it doesn't matter as long as more humans produced.

No one really has emotions anymore, so I really doubt making love even exists anymore. I used to have feelings, being homesick is the first feeling I've had in forever. Whenever someone's time to die comes, their eyes are blank as if they've already been wiped away and erased. I see no fear, anger, sadness, reluctance, or really anything for that matter. I don't know how I'll react either. I can't imagine being afraid; I actually do want to die. I'm not sure why I would be angry and sad, what would I have to be sad about? For sure I wouldn't be reluctant, quite the opposite. I'd willingly and happily die.

I usually don't think. I don't have much to think about. I've never had an education, much like everyone else. Once, an interesting notion did cross my mind. When I was young I used to hear tales of evil that were always overcome by good. In each one there was always a hero to defeat the enemy. So, was there a hero in this world? It would be impossible. No matter how advanced we are we're going backwards at the same time.

A hero just couldn't exist. How would a hero save a planet? Save the nearly wiped out human race? Even if a hero could accomplish that, there's absolutely no way to revive all the other extinct life forms. It's harder than finding a needle in a hay stack, more like finding a speck of dust in a pile of knives. No one could accomplish that.

It didn't matter. No one wanted a life, so why did anyone need saving? It was pointless to hope for something like that. That's why hope was shattered along with everything else a long time ago. I have no clue as to how life was before, but I swear on my life it was better than this. If I'm right, I win, and then I guess I can have one good thing in my life against over a trillion awful things. If I don't, then I get my dying wish.

I never really thought of how I wanted to die. I couldn't care less because only the end result was what mattered. If my death was painful and torturous, it'd go along perfectly with my life. Besides, virtually everyone around here dies the same way. There are no diseases to catch anymore. They've all disappeared from existence. Life is so boring for those who had the horrible luck of being born into the world during this time period. The only thing that goes on around here is suffering.

I'm tired of being locked up like a pig in a pen. I have the life exactly like one. I smirked, I wouldn't be surprised if they once had it better than me. That's how life is, always so damn unfair. I chuckled; I was showing more emotion than I have ever shown in my whole life. I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, or maybe it was just the heat. It was nearly two hundred degrees now a days.

"Number 672," one of the watch guards called out.

Who would've guessed, it was me. I could smell the rotting flesh as I walked towards the watch guard. It was mixing with the sizzling, sad odor from earlier. It wasn't possible for someone to be able to cook in these conditions. I wouldn't know how they did it, since one tiny mistake could easily make the Earth's dry conditions even worse.

The watch guard led me outside. How long had it been since I have been outside? I didn't miss much. The red sky and rocky, ashy ground beneath hadn't changed at all. I didn't stay outdoors for very long. The guard quickly led me into a small, separate room, instantly reminding me of a closet. There was a chair, along with a miniscule table about two steps away from it.

The guard rushed me in, and quickly slammed the door behind us. I was pushed into the chair as the guard pulled out a syringe from the table. He tugged on my arm and I knew what he was going to do. After all, I was a pig in a pen.