[I'm posting this letter exactly how we got it. At least we know he's having fun and hasn't lost his sense of . . . Brady.]
28 days in this cage. I have heard rumors of an outside world but have seen no sign of them. I look out over the wall and only see smog. The people with white name tags get to go on explorations outside the wall.
they say its not safe for me, the tacos could make me sick. I am stuck in here, reading the BOM and watching old church videos. I play soccer in here. and frisbee. and ping pong. but I see no cars. nor remember the taste of strawberries. nor the touch of grass. just kidding. we have grass. but we play street soccer. I mean football. I am not a man of many words however I believe in harvey dent. I believe that this is the place to be. the outside is dangerous. we had our latinos leave again, this time however, they were the last graduating class from here, this used to be a school before mtc. they all played soccer for them, they had to give their jerseys back at the end of the year though. so they stole them earlier this week. and gave them to us. awesome. however they are beyond my reach. they left the safehouse. I will probably never be able to see them again. our dorm is beginning to look like a war zone. carcases all over the walls and celings. these dang misquitos man. my amigo elder jones came and fought with us for a night. he got 361 in about an hour. we won that fight. I also started my frisbee work out every day. pretty soon 45 jump squats will be nothing. Elder Grant Owen made it safely into the safehouse. we played that one sport together where you throw the disc around and try to catch it in the endzone. I cant remember the name. even though I typed it a little bit ago. they also started to figure out the food. even though we still have rice and beans twice a day now, it is getting better. unlimited fruit loops also. what what.
Me (Elder Daines)