A piece I did in a space of ten minutes on my phone at school - therefore not my best work. The hardest thing is to keep Aang in character and at times this entry drifts off a bit. I'll keep trying to improve this in the future. I definitely need to work on the fact that Aang thinks more like a twelve year old than an adult at the time this piece is set. Check back soon. - Léa

Dear diary,

I don't know what to think. It feels like I ran away just a few hours ago. I have people telling me that's been a century. A hundred years. Everyone's dead. Everyone I have ever known.

It feels like a bad dream. I want someone to shake me to bring me back to the world of the sane. A world of peace, harmony and airbenders. This is a nightmare nothing seems to be able to wake me up from.

I can't be the last one. That old woman has to be wrong. She has to be. I wake up, not knowing where I am or how long it's truly been, and I'm being told there's a war going on, and has been since I left. Bloodshed. Death. People say the whole world has erupted in violence…because of me. Because I ran away. Because I was scared.

Then there's her. Katara's her name. The girl who found me. I don't know what it is about her – she just fascinates me I guess. I always seem to find myself smiling at her, strangely. I'm so confused. I couldn't meditate last night. Normally, all my thoughts separate, allowing my worries to filter to the surface, but I guess all my thoughts lately are negative ones. There's simply too many to separate and resolve. My people, what they suffered because of my actions, how the world suffered, and apparently how I'm supposed to save the world from a war that I caused.

The only thing that's been constant is Appa, and he doesn't seem too distressed by what's been happening. I wonder if he knows…knows that we're both the last of our kinds.

Would anyone care if I just went and disappeared for another century? All everyone seems to care about is when I'm gonna stop this war, not about how I feel about losing my race and the guilt that entails. Maybe that's why I feel a connection with Katara. She actually seems to care about me, rather than my identity as the Avatar.

I hear them. My people. Their screams for help inside my head. It makes me want to hold my knees to my chest and cry. I can't imagine never seeing Gyatso again or the boys my age at the temple. Kuzon of the Fire Nation. Bumi in Omashu. Maybe they're still alive. They'd all be well over a hundred now, or long gone. Every minute I think of someone else I'll never see again…and it's all my fault.