0600 hours - September 9th, 2029

Blackwater Falls State Park, West Virginia

“I’m going to fuck that tight little ass. Would you like that?” a middle-aged man with a potbelly, receding hairline and a leather jacket that says ‘If you can see this, the bitch fell off’ whispers in drunken stupor. The kind of drunken stupor that makes such a person believe their whispering remains an A-B conversation; to which that person is foolish to believe.

“You're ready, again?" replies a trashy white woman with blonde hair in her late 30s. This girl was the kind of white trash one might see on the back of a motorcycle willing to show her "juggs" for a honk of a horn. The kind with a t-shirt on that says, ‘Honk if you're horny.’

"Oh yeah!" he replies.

"I like that daddy. Just let me get some lube.”

A person might believe the drunken man and the trashy woman are married. This is true, they are married, but to other people. This isn’t one of those I’m married, but I’m having sex with my girlfriend, things. The drunken man and the trashy blonde are not even dating; and to be fair most of the time they don’t even like each other.

This will not be the kind of story where the husband or wife finds out about the affair either. Don’t worry, they already know in fact their spouses are passed out together in the next tent over. You see for the past 15 years Brent and Sally Stevenson have been arranging between close friends, friends of friends, and sometimes random strangers from craigslist an annual swingers party at the Blackwater Falls State Park in West Virginia. The Annual Blackwater Falls Swingers Extravaganza is an honored pastime for sometimes more than 30 consenting adults.

Adam and Jesse, two boys aged 12 who happened to be conceived during the 3rd annual Blackwater Falls Swinger Extravaganza, and who aren’t quite sure who their father is have a penchant for disappearing during the more provocative arrangements. Having decided to start another adventure in the woods they begin to walk and look for a good stream to wade in, as their parents wade through a stream of erotic lube. They look for secret caves in the area they heard of in passing or labelled on their campsite maps. While their parents' friends discover similar dark orifices. Their parents warned them about disappearing, but alas they never receive much attention during the anal event, disregard that, I meant, annual event.

Jesse is sometimes the one with a second of rational thought to the potential danger of wandering off alone. Jesse stops to look at his friend, Adam. Adam, instinctly knows without having to look back that Jesse was having second thoughts.

Adam attempts to reassure Jesse, “What could possibly be out there in the middle of nowhere that could harm us?”

They obviously haven’t seen enough horror movies, those are always famous last words, ‘What could possibly go wrong?’ There are plenty of good reasons to not go off by yourself in the woods. People created towns and cities for a reason. Humans were always getting eaten by something bigger than them in places they don’t understand.

The world was built by those with the ability to accept risk, or really most likely the slaves of the people who were willing to accept risk. Or, more precisely the risk of the slaves.

Boys wouldn’t be boys if they listened to their parents, or so goes the saying, ‘boys will be boys.’

The human race got to where it is now because of facing danger and constantly wanting to know what is out there in our scary world. When humans get too old and give up on exploring the world, they end up exploring other humans.

Their mother said that very evening, "It may seem empty but there are many people in these woods who don’t want to be found." She wasn’t talking about the guy in the leather clad S&M outfit with the zipper on the mouth. That guy was just two tents down and definitely wanted to be found.

When they arrived at the state park, the park rangers warned the entire family about how some of the caves in the area were inhabited by homeless hermits. Hermits philosophically don’t want to be found. If they ambiguous about being discovered they would be called cave people most likely. Things haven’t been so safe in the state park after the war he said.

As the boys come closer to the caves they get concerned as the words of their parents swarm in their heads. However, like many children a new adventure away from the prying eyes of adults is always worth the risk. Especially when those adults are consistently strapped to dildos.

The boys come across a very small entrance into the rock wall. They almost missed it as it was camouflaged with a small bush that was obviously placed there to conceal the entrance.

As they walk deeper into the cavern they start to smell odors of rotting food and garbage. The boys look at each other realizing that someone had recently inhabited this place.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The stench would normally have driven the youngsters out, but this was no normal hobo hole, and they were no strangers to weird smells during the annual event.

All kinds of different military uniforms and gear lay around the cavern floor. The boys once again look at each in amazement.

“Could this be an Army deserter's hideaway? Why else would he have canteens and military issued camping gear,” said Adam.

Jesse all of a sudden looked scared but that quickly subsided and was replaced with excitement. “Look, here are some bullets!"

"I think these are the used kind. Like they were already fired from a gun, " replied Adam.

"There must have been a firefight, but I don’t see any blood.”

Adam wasn’t paying attention. He had uncovered a stockpile of manuscripts with several loose pages just laying about the cave floor crumbled up into balls.

The boys sifted through the papers to find four complete manuscripts.

“It looks like someone’s diary,” said Jesse.

They were more than just diaries, they were memoirs from a broken soul. Adam picked up the first one and opened it.

The cover says, ‘Guantanamo Bay.’ A place he had never heard of before. They filtered through the pages, some of the ink looked very old while there was some newer scribbling in between the lines over old writing. They turned to the first page; it has just one sentence on it.

“Knowledge is power, but too much can get you killed,” read Adam.

"Wow. That's an intense way to start a diary," said Jesse. "Let me read some."

"Sure. You should read this part to me. It looks different. Most of this is handwriting but this is from an inkjet printer. It's taped to the first page of the diary."

Jesse sat down and took the book from Adam and read to him, "My name is Jack Valenteen…"

Adam looked at Jesse and interrupted, "that name sounds very familiar."

Jesse continued, "…and these are the accounts of my life, written to leave the world with the truth of what's been going on for the past two decades. I know about the biggest darkest secrets this world has ever seen, because I was there.

This is the story of my life. Guantanamo is just a small part of a larger story. But you might say it's my origin story. It’s a story that has to be told. Without it nothing makes any sense.

I have so much more to do in this world and my story is still being written. I am alive for now, but everyday I fear it's my last. I'm married and I have children, but I haven't seen them in so long. I want my family, I want my life back. I'm going to take my life back.

I'm not a bad person. I feel emotions. I feel joy, anger, and love. Love is going to be the reason why my only remaining actions in this world are revenge. I never thought my own life story would be a stereotypical cliche revenge movie, but it looks that way.

This all started as a diary, but as time passed I scribbled in and added over top with a new perspective, of which time and energy has given me. I've acquired new information to fill in the blanks of what I didn't understand then, but know now.

People say why go to war? Guantanamo is safe. Well Cuba was an uncertain time for me. Uncertainty is as much of a killer as a bullet to the head. The only difference is that uncertainty slowly kills through stress. Stress has physical effects on your health.

In relativity a bullet is compassionate.

My story begins at the most depressing part of my life.

Aghast. Listen to me. I'm such a prima donna.

Well, maybe not the most depressing, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk. Cake walk? That's such an odd term. Hey Google, what's the origin of the word cake walk?

A cake walk is a 19th century satirical dance performance where slaves paraded in a circle and were judged on how well they could mimic and mock their white rich slave owners' mannerisms. The best dancers won a cake.

Oh God! Hey Google, remind me later to never say cake walk again and to delete this part of the story.

I can do that. I've added that to your calendar. Would you like something else?

No, shut the fuck up. Okay, where was I?"

"He's not very nice to Google" said Adam.

"Will you just let me finish reading, " replied Jesse.

"Okay, okay, " said Adam.

Jesse continued to read out loud, "You see, I was alone. I was a horrible person, the kind of horrible person that thinks they are a good person.

A white knight without a damsel in distress. The kind of person people avoid.

Opinionated. Argumentative. Righteous. People would say this to me and I thought, aren't these good qualities? I needed to change, then I met the "love" of my life. That's another story entirely.

Well, maybe in retrospect in comparison to the "love" of my life, maybe Guantanamo Bay wasn’t so bad.

Look at me. I'm such an unreliable narrator.

Oh Guantanamo Bay, the bastard son you brought into the world and left on the side of the road to be raised by endangered lizards and banana rats.

Guantanamo was so long ago, but I can remember everything like it was yesterday."