Sitting in the center of the city, yet somehow tucked away from interaction, is this beautiful old church. A cement wall around the outside keeps it guarded from the public. The building itself showed very little signs of vandalism or abuse other than that of mother nature. The roof had naturally deteriorated and fallen in, leaving the church open to the sky. Open to the heavens, if you prefer. Trees from the outside are now overgrowing the building, slowly creeping more inward using the walls as support. Tucked in the center of the city, it’s like the building didn’t even exist. The inside was silent from the rest of the world, just a light breeze and the rustling of the overhanging leaves. Someone had taken the liberty to draw a complete love story where the center of the altar would be. Complete with well drawn pictures, arrows and words. It was almost romantic; one or two of the lovers breaking into an abandoned church to document their story. Somewhere they knew others would see it, and interpret it. Once we exited the building we were approached by a few teenagers with BB guns, or “street kids” as Patrick called them. They questioned what we were doing in the building, we told them we went to take pictures but the camera wasn’t working. One of the kids pointed to a man in a car and said his father was with internal security and wanted to speak with us. The man put down his window and yelled to the boys, “bring them.” We put our heads down and quickly left the area, they continued to yell to us but we didn’t look back. I asked my cousin if what the kids said was true, he told me he didn’t know but it wasn’t a chance he wanted to take.