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I am writing this report with the hope that someone someday will find it and still be able to read. My wish is that my words will explain what happened and give the reader some insight as to how things went so terribly wrong.

Today, I am writing from a cave I found in an area which was never well populated. That fact should help keep me safe for a little while longer. But I know they will find me. They always do.

It has now been just over ten years since the first noticeable problems began to appear. I can remember the time well because it was the last time I saw my family. When I say saw my family, I mean actually living, breathing and standing in front of me. As much as I can, I still search for them. My heart tells me I am probably too late.

So many mistakes had already been made by the time I was called up. In the beginning, they weren’t sure of the cause. Even when I tried to tell them the truth, they refused to listen. They said I was wrong. They said my facts were all distorted. They also said I was crazy. Not listening to me, not heeding my advice was their biggest mistake.

I remember when this new technology was introduced. Nothing of this magnitude had been presented since Alexander Wolcott patented the first camera back in 1840.

Imagine, three-dimensional photographs so real you felt like you could stick your hand right inside the picture and pull out what was in there. I often wondered if there was a sudden rise in the amount of sprained or broken fingers heading to the emergency rooms.

Don’t ask me how they got it to work. After all of my investigations, I still don’t know. What I do know is that it caught on and spread across the globe like ants invading a sugar cube factory.

At first, the new cameras were somewhat expensive. Three-Dee Pics incorporated held the patent for the first five years and were reaping in the early benefits. But, as with any new, popular toy, demand increased and, after a government-imposed mandate, soon everyone could afford one. I must admit I was also impressed. Eventually, I got one for each member of my family. It is a mistake which will haunt me until the time I can no longer draw breath.

I think the first real sign was when that plane fell out of the sky and nosed dived into an apartment complex in Queens. The media, along with most of us, immediately wondered if the terrorists were at it again. With the tragedies of 911, who could blame us for thinking that way. But, when that second plane fell, outside of Denver, two days later, just missing a crowded high school by a quarter mile, I began to wonder if something else was the cause.

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