A Plea For Help From A Real Gulag

Dear Amnesty International,

Please help me. Please. Please help me. You went to Gitmo, now come here. It's worse. It's hell. I'm here against my will and at the mercy of untrained abusive teenagers in love with their own power. We don't get special meals here like they do at Gitmo. We don't get our own space. We even don't get time to worship. We cook over open flames, sleep in barracks, and are forced FORCED to recite the Pledge of Allegiance everyday! I've committed no crime and yet find myself in this awful place where I have no rights and am allowed no visitors.

Yesterday was like everyday. We were woken before dawn by our abusive power-mad keepers who kick our beds, tear off our blankets, bang garbage cans, and threaten us bodily if we don't get up. Then we were forced to build a fire and told to eat the burnt bacon and eggs or nothing. Then they marched us through the mosquito-infested woods and we're eaten alive. It's torture I tell you! Torture! Bugs swarming everywhere! In my ears, clothes... I scratch till I bleed. It never stops! And we march for miles through this. We march everyday like this and are not allowed to rest. Anyone who slows down is humiliated by our keepers -- teased mercilessly. Sometimes they're pushed or put in a headlock. And all we're allowed is water from a warm canteen. Then we're forced to build a bridge across a creek. Slave labor! No one gets paid in this place. We build bridges, dams, and tree houses no one will ever use. I think I may go insane.

For lunch, hamburger meat roasted on a stick (no lemon chicken here). On a stick! Can that be sanitary? My bunkmate Hank was so hungry he ate it nearly raw.Then more slave labor, then the march home. Then for dinner a mushy stew, a slice of bread, and a cookie -- that is if you pulled your weight. They always pick on one of us. They always single out who did the least amount of work and take his cookie away. It's degrading. And it happens everyday. Then a little recreation time -- if you want to call it that. We're forced to sit around a fire while our keepers psychologically torture us -- scare us to death -- all before a forced bedtime in the bunks where the mosquitos swarm. And anyone caught talking after lights-out gets sprayed with water and is forced to sleep in it. Hank puked from the raw meat and slept in it. It's cold at night. Broiling during the day. No air conditioning. No heat. No TV. And no Korans.

Lawyers? Please. Red Cross? Who are they? We get one visiting day our entire time here! And they make us clean the place up so our parents don't see how it really is. I've yet to see the Red Cross, and any inquiries about a lawyer results in a derisive chuckle and a shove to the ground. Please, please help me Amnesty International. I'm innocent of any crime, here by force, and told escape means a slow death by exposure.

I'm not sure where I am, but saw a sign on the bus as we pulled in: Camp Potowotomi. There's about 40 of us. We're minors and all feel the same way. Please. Help. Us.

I'm sneaking this letter out with my little brother on Parents Day. I'll try to write again, but have to go now -- it's the day we all dread. They force us to hold a rope and then push us off a cliff. We swing twenty feet in the air and drop in a lake.

At night, when I close my eyes, I can hear the screams.

Comments

[Jay]

Can't use Boy Scouts, that's already been done when the Russians reported them as a "para-military force".

[Dan (AKA GayPatriotWest)]

You sure this isn't Camp Granada?