Hi, my name is Conner. It probably sounds cliché or stupid, but  chances are if your reading this I'm dead, either that or sitting right next to you. If I'm not there however who knows what kind of state your reading this in. Is it peaceful there? I only wonder because my life up to this point hasn't been so much so.
I guess i should start with who i am right? My full name is Conner Murphy McGladden, I'm mostly Irish for whats that worth now a days though i have some English and Scottish roots. I'm a unique child, or so my parents always told me. My IQ is over one hundred and fifty but that isn't enough to stop the strife that consumes the world i was born into. Even now only eight years into life i must say i don't see what any of this mattered in this world.
A simple life of prosperity is one great life that many could hope for but only a few can realize, though i believe that goal is beyond us for many years, and regrettably, billions of lives away as well. Humanities pure disregard for their own advancement is childish at best, and when told that by a child theres no excuse you can really come up with to refute it.
Enough about that, I'm sure your more interested in who i am and things like that rather then my thoughts on the down fall of man. i grew up and lived in a small town on the outside of human settlement of the United States eastern coast in a state once known as Ohio.  The towns name is Massillon, i don't know what its called or if it even exists any more. It was a reach town as the US called it, a town pushed into the uncharted sub territories no longer occupied by the US. Just to see how much they could push their luck before things really broke down.
Sure enough we turned out to be the limit. The majority of the people in these kinds of towns were those who hadn't fallen for the propaganda spewed by HASSK and other anti-sub government movements patrolling the main inner cities. It sometimes seems like sense died along with the billions of people who were taking in the plague. Honestly who would believe their lies, as far fetched as they are? Haiman are fallen angels sent from hell, Kira are a beast like regression that serve no purpose other then to kill and even the Creiatai were shown as pale weaklings that were nothing more then human regression.
The propaganda surely leaves out all the interesting properties of Haiman wings and the Kira's fur and skin. They would never leak information about the millions of cures and technologies they currently help produce and reinvent. They even let everyone still believe that the environment is still so dangerous that you could still die from the plague which truly is a thing of the past, survival dome or not. So many people either because of faith or because of fear choose to believe such lies, but luckily they would be few and far between in my small town of Massillon.
While my town didn't hold any grand buildings it still held a good fifteen thousand people. Well packed into a two mile square area it was cozy and filled with relatively intelligent people. Disregarding the propaganda of the coast the people of my hometown often took in and housed subs. Most avoided our small town but the small portion that used it for shelter perhaps changed their minds on their perspective of humans.
Humans being the ever paranoid creatures they are managed to screw up this delicate balance yet again though. The coast sends some of their own radicals, or in this case, some from HASSK to observe the town. Those discovered harboring subs were rarely seen again, which was more then could be said for the subs they were harboring. I'm not entirely sure what happened, who lied or betrayed or instigated but before we knew it military and HASSK units had attacked. One of the news papers my parents had been subscribed to from the coast had shown what our fate was to the world. Just another rouge colony that was full of corrupt people and subs.
Much to our surprise it wasn't just a simple extermination, not because we took up arms, but because so many subs came to our towns aid. Unfortunately it was too little too late. True a good number of us managed to escape but thousands more couldn't Among them, my friends and whats worse, my parents. Protecting me, pushing me away from the oncoming soldiers.
My hometown, burning in the distance, my parents bodies among the rubble, created a red hue over the horizon. The beautiful look betrayed the tragedy of it all. Thats when i started writing this. The troops are still patrolling the areas and with no where to go most of us continually fear for our lives. Perhaps one day this will all change, peace could truly be possible, but its so hard to believe. Perhaps if i was older i could give more answers to myself but really what is it an eight year old  can do in a world like this?
It is a sad story but it is the life we must live. If I'm not there to elaborate on this I'm sorry because if might not make any sense. I hope when this is read that it sheds some light on our current situation or the great tragedy of our past.

"Hey Karl, what you doing over there?" the voice pulled Karl away from the final entry in the diary he was holding. He lifted the green covered book and waved it.
"And what the hell is that?"
"Looks like someone grabbed a diary and wrote the last words to come from this town." he replied.
"Anything useful?"
Karl paused thinking about the boy who must have wrote it "I don't know."
"Then leave it, we gotta keep moving."
Some how Karl couldn't, the story just reminded him of his boy at home. While he would never openly agree with what was written, he had to incline to believe it in his own head. He sighed.
This was only a military mission, he could never understand HASSK and their work. He put the book in his back pocket and lifted his rifle to continue patrolling the remains of Massillon.