My name is Chanuka. I bake under the sun 6 days a week, with the exception of Sunday. My job doesn’t reap me too many benefits. I hate my boss too, and I put this on everything, if he dare touches me or my parents one more time—I will kill him, and all near and dear to him. I should only kill those near and dear to him, so he can suffer.

Everything he says is phony speaking of the day we retire. I’m here to say scrap that it will never happen. If you desire something in life, you must go out and achieve it your goddamned self. Which is why I conspired an escape for all of us “employed” by this opressive sack. We will escape to the North where opportunities are bountiful, until we return home. That’s where I hear our beckoning call.

The next day came. The plan is to be carried out on this day. I was approached by 2 tall, pasty guards, and my boss.

“C’mere boy!” Boss said.

I sprinted away from them. I left detailed notes for my colleagues. I love you Mom and Dad we will meet up soon.