December 1, 2001 8:34p.m.Dear Diary,
Something is strange about today. Like there
Is a fog of doom is what my mind keeps whispering to me.
I try to push it away but it keeps coming up as if it was a fly
That I just swat away. It’s not just strange as in freaky.
Something about how the wind blows. It blows like its angry.
Like its trying to find something, something it can’t seem to reach.
I know that I sound crazy but I can’t help but wonder if something
Really is going on. Its like some unknown power a very strong power.
I have been having these dreams about being in the middle of the
Woods at the end of town and I am just standing there absent minded.
Then winds blow up around me, my hair shielding my eyes to where I can
No longer see. The wind whispers in my ear, your time is here. And I
Always shout back time, time for what? But all this wind keeps telling
Me are things that I don’t come close to understanding. It says
Stuff like ‘finding yourself December’ and ‘life forever to find it’.
Well Diary, I will have to finish this for you some other time. Right
Now I am being summoned to get ready for school by my alarm clock.
-December Forkley.
