When they came in they wiped out everybody they couldn’t use, everybody that mighta been a threat to ‘em or that they thought might have been a threat. They weren’t too particular. They’d as soon kill you as not. When they got done there wasn’t much of us less, nobody over fifty or so, nobody too strong or too smart or too weak or too much of anything. Nobody who couldn’t work, nobody who couldn’t push two or three out. They got rid of everyone else in my family but me they kept. I don’t know why they kept me. I keep thinking about it, why they popped my kid sister and kept me. She was the looker, she was the strong one, leastaways compared to me she was. I suppose she wasn’t much altogether but she was better than me anyway. Sometimes I get mad thinking about it, but most of the time it’s at myself instead of them. It doesn’t make sense but I can’t help it. What did I do? Why me? Sometimes I’m glad it was her they got and not me. Life’s not much but it’s better than nothing. Sometimes I think that and I think maybe they shoulda killed me and not her.