(August 19th)
I shall not die of a cold. I shall die of having lived. -Willa Cather
Dear Journal,
I will start by stating that I think that quote really describes me right now. I feel numb-dead-from waking up in the morning, until going to sleep at night-and even then, my dreams can't save me from my apathetic death.
-Sigh- I don't do the class assignments anymore, but I'll try to make an exception this time because it sounds like this type of assignment (keeping an emotional diary from the first day until the last day of school) will help me sort out my thoughts and feelings. Otherwise, I fear I'll become too full of this paradoxical emptiness and will surely…well, something bad will occur, I'm quite certain of that. And so I sit at my computer, wondering how to start at the very beginning of the horrid nightmare that has become my life….
~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~
"Ike, Mom and Dad just called to let us know dinner is ready." I called, walking toward the section of the beach where the water meets the shoreline. I smiled as he pouted.
"But Kyle, I want to gather the seashells a little longer. Can't we stay for just a few more minutes? Please?"
"Alright Ike…if you want to suffer the wrath of Mom!" I shouted. Ike giggled and tried to run from my outstretched and tickling fingers. We ran through the streets to get back to our hotel, but suddenly I lost sight of Ike as he put on extra speed and turned an abrupt, unseen corner.
After searching for a few minutes, my carefree attitude was completely drained and I frantically sprinted through the streets, wondering where my brother was and praying to the God I no longer believe in that he was safe and sound at the hotel. I stopped running long enough to move cautiously through an abandoned alleyway. About halfway in, the hairs on my neck stood at attention and my hearing was tauntingly assaulted by an icy, fake tone that almost reminded me of Cartman.
Almost. I still don't truly believe he's capable of what the man did next. (Right…?) Anyway, the man stepped out of the shadows as he spoke and I turned slightly to face him.
"What's a young man doing out alone after the sun is gone? Didn't your parents ever warn you? You never know who you're going to meet…." He smiled then, but it was far from a friendly gesture. What happened next I only remember in flashes, as if some invisible Deity were flickering the moonlight on and off.
Fear.
Grabbing.
Ripping.
Tearing.
Scratching.
Biting.
Thrusting.
Pain.
Praying.
Screaming.
Crying.
I hoped I could make enough noise to cause the surrounding people to notice this ugly scene, but every door, every window, every set of eyes were shut tight against the idea that their picturesque vacation spot could ever harbour this type of crime. Even the moon hid behind large, dark clouds as if God Himself abandoned me.
No one paid heed to the boy in need of a saviour.
A/N: I know, another story. But someone really wanted it up and I promised her I'd post it a long-ass time ago. So sorry about that Scorching Skeleton Symphony, I didn't mean to take that long. I hope the first chapter doesn't have the same fate….^_^"
~theflawintheplan