Tittle: Dear Diary
Challenge: bind
Word Count: 200 even
Disclaimer: They're Kripkie's, not mine.
A/N: Diaries are very personal and should not be messed with. Same with toy boxes.
Dear Diary,
Today is the 113 day since I have died and things are looking up.
Woke up did the usual, y'know. That stinky old man sold my toy box again. Its like, how many people do I have to kill before they learn to leave my stuff alone?!
Anyway, talk to you later!
~Emily
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Dear Diary,
Today is the 118 day since I died and things are dire my friend.
I am in a major bind. The stinky old man sold my toy box to two totally hot guys. Should I kill 'em? One's hot, the other one's kinda tall… but cute too, in an awkward way.
I thought being dead made things less complicated!
~Emily
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Dear Diary,
Today is the 120th day since I died and apparently they don't dig dead chicks.
They're threatening to burn my toy box. Seriously?! What a buzz kill. Oh well, guess I'll have to kill them and maybe the old man.
Later!
~Emily
o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Dean poked at the ashes of the toy box. "Look at that," he remarked, "pages of a diary."
"Can you even imagine a ghost keeping a diary?" Sam laughed.
Dean chuckled. "Stranger things have happened."