Dear Planet Earth,
I don’t know if anyone’s reading this. I don’t know if anyone’s left to read this. This blog has been more a personal diary for me since the beginning. It’s allowed me to isolate my thoughts and actions with little regard about the world at large. The truth is now more clear to me than ever — that I’m not alone, that I never was. I’m part of a much bigger group with a shared history that calls itself “the human race.”
The first explosions started sometime yesterday morning. I watched mystified as Lieutenant Christiansen disappeared in a swift blast of fire and ash. Other soldiers screamed in agony and confusion from all sides. Half of a Hummer landed inches away from my crouched body. I could feel the heat of the flames on my face as someone grabbed me by the arm and forced me to run.
I ran with the rest of our disbanded band of brothers, who sporadically turned around and blindly fired their rifles. I ran for hours, but no matter how far it seemed like I’d gone, I could still hear the explosions just as loud, could still feel the flames just as hot.
We’re moving out in the transport trucks any minute now. General Talpa said we’ll need to leave behind all non-essential equipment to stay under the weight limit, and that includes my netbook.
I don’t know what’s coming next. I don’t know if I can survive a next battle. All I know is we finally have a name for our enemies. It’s been on the tip of our tongues ever since this started, but we’ve been too blind and proud to admit it. We’re being invaded from beings beneath the earth’s crust who’ve watched and waited for years, planning an unrelenting strike to wipe out every single member of the human race.
We’re under attack from mole men, and our world will never be the same.