For those of you who are reading my other JW fic, I've hit a snag. I've had to destroy chapter three completely and start fresh. I hope that's the only chapter of the lot that I have rewrite. I really should have read through the whole thing before I started putting out the chapters.
Anyway, this fic is a series of journal entries from Maisie. I don't know how long I plan to carry this on but the plan is to attempt to illustrate what she might be going through in the aftermath of what happened at her home.
June 27, 2018
Entry #1
It's been a week since the three of us escaped from my home. Claire bought me this journal in town. It's kind of cool. The journal looks like something that adventurers of old times would have written in. It's made of dark brown leather, and the pages look handmade. They smell old; not musty old, just old. I can't explain it but it's kind of comforting. This journal is fitting for the place we're at, I think. The three of us are finishing a cabin that Owen had started. It's right in the glorious wild. I feel like I am in for a great adventure.
Claire says that writing in a journal is a good way to gather my thoughts; especially on bad days. I guess she would know; She's almost died twice now, and she seems alright. She told me that I should address my entries to a specific person, someone who I don't see every day. In all honesty I can't think of one person who I would address this to. Grandpa is dead, Iris left me, and Mr. Mills is a monster whose death I hope was slow.
Owen and Claire won't tell me as much, but I know that the police found bits of him. I heard them talking about it. Claire and Owen have been talking about other things too; mostly about the future, what it holds for all of us now that the dinosaurs are out. They don't want to kill them, but they think that this will cause a huge mess, worse than the one in San Diego years ago (I plan to look that up next time I'm on the laptop and have internet access). They do think that Dr. Malcom might be the key to sorting this whole mess out. I never wanted to create a mess. I swear. I just wanted those dinosaurs to have their best possible chance. It's not their fault that they were brought back to life…just like it's not my fault that grandpa wanted a living memory.
It's time for bed now. Claire has already warned me twice. We have an early start tomorrow. We're going into town for supplies. So, I guess it's goodnight.
-Maisie Lockwood
Three things I'm grateful for today:
-Claire Dearing
-Owen Grady
-Peanut butter (not the crunchy kind…ew!)