Cassidy's First Warning:

There’s a faint odor in the air. I want to keep on writing, because it’s the only thing I know how to do these days. It’s the same thing over and over again. Work, sleep, masturbate, complain, write, repeat. All week long. The writing isn’t getting me anywhere, as I’m terrible at it. But I still feel that it keeps me sane, at least for the time being. There are people crying out for help, twelve or fifteen planets away. Crying because their homes have turned into police states, their families turned into glorified slaves, and their minds plagued with intruders called nanotwins. I’m tempted to say I’m jealous of their fate. It might be nice to have some authority, some law and order, as unjust as it may be. Where I’m from- a planet with no name on the edge of the galaxy, the company doesn’t dare visit. They don’t dare control us. Not because they’re scared, but because they do not view us as life forms at all. With no central government, no school systems, we’re rotting from the inside out. And the stench of our planet can be smelled from 2000 light years away. I’m not writing this to ask for help, I’m writing this to warn you. Stay the hell away. I have no idea why you’d want to come here, but just keep on driving. Drive past the border, and you might just reach the promised land. This galaxy is too consumed with hatred to be saved. If you land here, you will be stuck in our dirt pile for the rest of your miserable lives. And I don’t want that for another single soul.

 Stay the fuck away.