Diary Entry: 2nd September 1865 - Part 1
I'm sitting writing this entry in my diary in the warm, all snuckered up, which I guess proves I ain't still dreaming. I guess it don't prove, though, that I didn't dream what I'm about to write down. Last thing I wrote, I was running into the forest with pockets full of food. I had to steal from the general store. I know it ain't something most nine year old girls do, but then again most girls my age don't sleep in barns in their Pa's old coat neither.
I was running from some young fella – he couldn't have been more than sixteen – who was chasing me down for taking the bread. I was scared. I didn't know whether he had a gun or knife or if he was friendly or ornery. So I ran into the trees. It soon got dark, and the branches scratched through the air like witches' fingers. I think I heard a wolf howl in the distance, then a bat went by, like big leather gloves flapping past my face. Behind me, the young fella's boots were scrunching through leaves and undergrowth, catching up with me. I stumbled, tripped, and the bread tipped out onto the dirty ground.
I went to pick it up, but another hand got there before me. There was enough light for me to see that the hand was thin, pale and naked of all flesh. It was all bone! A skeleton was taking my bread!
