29 August, 2587 My name is Ben Wurzel and if youre reading this then Im most likely dead.

Thats not a bad thing. Life sucks. Course maybe its cause all Ive know is hell my whole life. Ive grown up in the middle of a war thats raged for the better part of this century. Not sure who really started it, the Colonial Federation, the Earth Alliance, or any of the rebels that fight against, or for any varying cause; but I do know that Id love to just waste them all and call it a day. But, fuck it to hell, here I sit, huddled in this damned bunker with my mom and the dogs, no idea where the cats went, sirens scare the fuck out of them. This is the third raid in the past two weeks. We never know who is bombing us. With all the unknowns on where rebels are hiding, all sides have gone back to carpet bombing cities and country side like the days of old. Im not sure whos bombing

tonight, and I dont care. This has to end. All of it. The one thing I know, is that this is the last night I spend in this bunker.