If you are reading this, I am dead.

The year is 2025, its probably July or maybe August. I am not sure anymore but the weather has been excruciatingly hot and dry. My days seem to run together now. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this existence. The world is experiencing the biggest drought since the dust bowl era of the 1930s and the government is now an oligarchy. I could be killed if I am found hiding behind this waterfall but the way I see it, I am dead either way. The one thing humans need to survive is water and that is the one thing we cannot make. It just so happens that water is more valuable than money now. So valuable that in order for you to get water, you have to work like a slave in a factory making goods for the faction. Water is no longer sold in stores, its so hot that it barely rains and if you’re caught catching rain water, you are judged by the Hamans and if found guilty, executed immediately.

Over the years, the lakes and rivers were slowly drying up so the government devised project 3R’s to replenish, revitalize and renew our lands. The three R’s were happening in front of us all over the last twenty years. We were too stupid to care and because no one intervened millions have died and are continuing to die. I am writing this hoping to leave a record of the truth. Maybe one day someone can hold the powers that be accountable for these heinous crimes against mankind. This classicide must never be forgotten, I hope I survive this but if I don’t The Lost Ones will serve as true publication of what I witnessed before I fled. The truth is, the New World Order or whatever the fuck the wealthy envisions does not leave space for people like myself; the proletariats of the world are being exterminated and the reasoning given to all, is to make our world a better place. Project 3R’s is the final chapter to replenish, revitialize and renew our blessed lands.

At first it was a respiratory virus that spread around the world within days, causing the entire world to shut down. Everyone was in lock down for a year with mandatory curfews. That is when the food shortages began. Our weather became unpredictable and for the first time the government was honest about the cause. Apparently for decades the NOAA were cloud seeding which is a type of weather modification to prevent and fix droughts by making artifical rain. It backfired and caused a massive drought by throwing off earths natural balance of moisture. From there the temperatures grew hotter, crops dried up and the soil became infertile. Dust storms swept across the world making each continent like the sahara desert. Each continent has been sanctioned into two zones; The green and red zones. Green zones are areas within city limits that do not require military escort and where the working class exist. The red zone is forbidden and seperated by a 20 foot wall. People have died trying to climb the wall and cross over to the other side where the faction and the wealthy reside. , the military are trained to kill on sight.

It rained for the first time in over a month but it only lasted a few minutes. Even the rain was hot and felt like pellets shooting down from the sky. My days are spent in hiding from military drones and predators of the mountains. I have been surviving out here for a few months, eating fish and whatever berry or plant I can scavage. The day I fled was the scariest day of my life, I was caught stealing fabric from the factory. I was on my cycle and could not afford sanitary pads. I was forced to work sixteen hour days with blood running down my legs. I took a piece of scrap fabric that was thrown in the trash and made a tampon. The military man noticed I was no longer bleeding and tried to rape me but was shocked to find a plug of fabric. He ripped the fabric out and punched me repeatedly in my head. I woke up naked on the floor to Hamans casting down my judgemnent of death by being buried alive. I knew my death would not be quick so as I dug my own grave, I started to reminisce about the past and remember the ones I have lost. If I had my family and friends I wouldn’t have to steal. I wouldn’t be approaching my final hours.

Everything is so scarce that if you don’t have family or friends to share with, you are on your own. I lost everyone that I loved, some were taken by the virus, and the rest died because they weren’t able to afford their medications. Who would have thought insulin would become $500 per vial and $50 per 1 mL. Medicare, Medicaid, WIC and essentially welfare were disbanded due to tax payers feeling as though the programs were more of a hinderance than a help. We didn’t want to keep paying for the less fortunate to live better than we did. At the time I thought I was apart of the class that was better than those that needed the assistance. I worked for the state and made six figures. Granted taxes increased so much that they took around $40k of that in taxes each year but as a single woman that still was a comfortable salary. During the election majority of the middle and upper class voted to end welfare and medical insurance programs so we could keep more of our income and didn’t have to pay as much in taxes. This created a cause and effect where our vote to cancel these programs made the need to hire state and federal employees obsolete. As soon as December 1st hit, we all received our pink slips and were fired without pay. Our salaries were put towards efforts to support healing from the 3R’s and shaping the new world order. Anything that was state and federally led no longer existed, hospitals, organizations and banks closed done one right after the other. People couldn’t afford to be consumers and the merchants couldn’t sustain goods and or services without the consumers. Eventually the economy collapased and the high unemployement rates made people anger and society choatic. The military develpoed into the Hamans and were like soldiers, Judges and police offiers all in one.

Eventually, the cost of living was unobtainably high causing rapid evictions across neighborhoods. Entire communities unhoused, living in the streets outside of vacant and boarded up housing. People started to grow desperate and some even angry, resulting in them breaking back into their homes. Thats when the fires started, some nights the sky would be ablaze from the military burning houses that provided shelter and some familiarity of what once was to those that no longer wanted to reside on the streets. We would watch in horror as the black smoke filled the air and the screams of those trapped inside danced through the air accompanied by crackling of the embers and the thunder of the buildings collapsing as the encore of a senseless act commensed. Sometimes when I sit in this darkness of this cave where I should be comforted by the sound of water falling all I hear are the families screaming as they are being trapped inside their finale resting place and burned alive. Some people couldn’t bare witness to such horrific imagery and opted to stare into the windows of stores that were guarded by the military to watch whatever food left on the shelves rot away. Shipments stopped coming in, and items that did made people really sick after consumption, killing hundreds.

My back hurts from hours of digging, my throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper rubbing against my esophagus. I think about trying to fight back so I can be granted with a quick death by gunfire but I think my body was on autopilot because the rythmic sounds of me digging and tossing dirt for nine hours.

My apologies for jumping around blame it on the Dysthymia. During the moments leading up to my live buriel, I started to list everything I missed in my head, “ I miss hugs. I miss dancing to music, I miss cooking and eating pickle chips. I miss naps, hiking and listening to comedy. I miss blueberry mint hoohkah and henny, cycling in the city streets, clean sheets and Mcdonalds spicy Sprite….” I must of named a million things I missed as I dug

7, 567 times until I was standing in a six foot deep hole. I laid down as a excavator that was parked beside me pushed the dirt on top of me and just like that in four swoops I was covered in loose dirt. I had tried to hold my breathe as I climbed to the top. Worst case scenario was they were there and would STK on site but they weren’t. I breached the surface gasping for air and found myself outside the red zone in the forest. I ran towards the until I could see a mountains on the horizon and stumbled across a stream. I followed the stream up the mountain and didn’t rest until I found the cave on other side of the waterfall and I have been here ever since. Sometimes I scream behind this waterfall just to hear the echos bounce around the cave walls. Sometimes I will scream for so long, I feel like I am in a crowded room and then once I black out from exhaustion and over heating, I dream. I get to dream about all of the things I miss.

Before leaving society was on the verge of implementing new laws. if you wanted five gallons of water for drinking, cooking and bathing you were required to work 60 hours at the factory. Catching rain water, stealing someone water or anything in general was punsihable by death. Money was given to those that brought justice to thieves and before you know it, people who weren’t thieves but accused were killed because their accuser is choosing to survive by any means. Its like the Hungergames, The Purge and Roots all rolled up into one fucked up montage.

So as you read this, please understand I had to escape because I longed for freedom. I plan to burn down the system and will document it here within this publication. I

am one of the lost ones, hopefully I can find salvation and create peace for the world. God must have appointed me to make it this far. I am the only one with a waterfall. I have my own weatesouce, that must be a sign. The faction forces us to wear a bracelet with labels on them to categorize us. So to make this authentic as possible, after each publication I will sign it with my designated creditials. That way if this is found and I have transitioned, you can look in the archives and find:

Patient: Sie She Laa Waa, DOB: 11/20/1986

Supervison Band Red (critical) ; Runner and Level 1 Violent

Diagnosis: Paranoid Skitzophrenia, Maladapative Daydreamer

Notes: Runner, will bury self in garden or hide in the basement to flood it.