August Kayde

Hey. Welcome to hell, or, I mean, my world. Same thing.
Anyways, as bad as you may want out of here, sorry, but you can't. Once you're in this place, which I assume you are, since you're reading this, then you can't get out. Maybe you got sucked into this hell hole like everyone else, including my dad. Just about everyone here claims that their home had been ruined by the War, and they were looking for a place to stay and feed their families. They saw this beautiful shining glass dome, glowing white with promise against the ashen sky and polluted air. The plants were green, the streets clean, the buildings gleaming. The air was crisp and full of life and the people were healthy, if not a little too round.
At least that's the lie everyone hears. But on the inside?
Much different story.
This place is a trap built for the desperate. It rips apart the most vulnerable, and takes advantage of the weak. You eagerly run toward the shine of the feeling something may finally go right, but you find you've run into the maw of a great beast, slaughtering any shred of hope and faith in life. Sure, it's safe from the outside apocalypse, but I'm not sure if in this 3,000 acre dome of doom is any better than the outside world, to tell you the truth.
But how could it possibly be that bad, right?
Wrong.