I’ve been trying to stay as busy as possible for the last two days to just stop thinking, but my dreams keep getting more and more intense to the point I wake up in the middle of the night. But it’s all so blurry. Please, Brain, either tell me everything at once or nothing at all. It’s not the best time for riddles, can’t you see I’m not having fun? Quit it.
      Nora. Where do I know her from, and how come I remember her name? She doesn't introduce herself in my dreams. She looks younger than me. Fourteen, maybe? Why would I spend time with a fourteen-year-old in the future? Or maybe it’s the past? No, it wouldn’t make sense. Besides, she says I need to go BACK, whenever that is. We are in some kind of old tent. There’s no one else except us. She holds up a bowl of red liquid [it kind of looks like blood] dips her hand in the mixture and paints red lines on both of her cheeks. I try to tell her I don’t want to go back and that I’m scared, but no sound comes out of my mouth.
“You don’t have much time,” she says. I don’t even think that’s English, but I can understand her. Young lady, you sound very serious. And if you’re in such a hurry, then why don’t you tell me exactly what you want me to do? Give me the puzzle pieces, will you?
      She then hands me a thick and gray-ish looking potion she prepared and gestures to me to drink it. “It might hurt,” she warns me. I have no control over my actions. My mind says “don’t drink it,” but my body takes a sip. It tastes like mud. My chest immediately starts hurting and I fight the pain to catch a breath. I wake up coughing and trying to get rid of the aftertaste I can still almost feel on my tongue.
      Not very specific, is it? Well, if she doesn’t deign to tell me the details, she better not hope I do anything about it.
      It was my birthday yesterday. We have a tradition, with Nick and Bobbie, that every year on our birthdays we go and do something active together. We don’t really party that much. None of us considers it to be a quality time at all. We like to celebrate by doing things we won’t always be able to do. Like hiking, biking, scuba diving, or like last year on Nicole’s birthday we ran a half marathon. I mean, Nicole and Bobbie did because I almost passed away after 6 miles. That was the stupidest birthday idea so far, but we wanted to make fun of how ridiculous Bobbie and I looked running next to Nicole. She’s a beast. She finished in 2h 02min. Bobbie an hour later, but we’re still proud of him. Â
      This time we had a little problem figuring out what to do since my body still hasn’t healed. We went boating. That way they could also go swimming in the lake and we decided it would pass as doing something active together, even though sunburning my skin was I pretty much all I did.
“How are your parents doing?” asked Nicole while questioning whether she should be eating all the junk food we bought. “They must be worried.”
      She’s funny. They don’t care, as always. Or at least they don’t show it. Not that I’d want them to. We don’t get along that well. Or maybe they do show they care, by still being angry at me for “not telling them where I was going that night”. They wouldn’t be angry if they didn’t care at all, right? I didn’t lie to them about going to the movies. I’m sure I was simply dragged to that ally and got beat up by some random bullies just for existing on my way to get there. Yeah, good one, Nora. Did you want to be funny by sending me back to such a convenient time? Haha, I'm laughing, yeah.
 03:25 PM
      My father talks too much. He’s a historian, just like his father was. I guess it’s in his blood to not know where the story should end. I decided I’d spent some time outside of my room today and show him and mom I’m doing fine. I’m so thoughtful that way. It hurts to see that sometimes they have those moments when they try to connect with me but have no idea how. And I’m not making it easy for them. I thought not responding to other people’s stupid comments would be more mature of me than talking back with an attitude like I used to do. Although lots of people, including my parents, tend to think I’m a killjoy when I don’t laugh at their ignorant jokes. Some things you just don’t joke about. I still think it’s better than reacting with anger. I’m sixteen now, but I’m still waiting for my emotional puberty to hit. Or maybe it’s as good as it gets, and all of this anger is genetic? Obviously I didn’t get it from my mom, but perhaps after my biological dad? Who knows, who cares?
      I just kept nodding after my father ended his story with a sentence “And that just shows that we need to be held accountable for our actions. If he had done the right thing, none of it would have happened.” But I didn’t know what “the right thing” was cause I had already forgotten the story. My mom saved me by joining us in the living room.
“Have you tried out your new headphones, yet?” she asked. She meant AirPods they gave me yesterday for my birthday.
“Yeah, they’re really good, thank you.” They looked glad that I appreciated the present. I didn’t tell them I already had one pair. I know it’s terrible and simply wrong to regift presents, but what do I need two sets of the same earphones for?
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6:03 PM Â Â Â Â Â
      Nora hates me. I took a nap, as one does when tired. But before I did, I had very directly asked her not to appear in my dream and give me a break just that one time. She didn't. Although this time she was a little more chatty.
She hands me the potion and notices my hesitation.
“Having second thoughts?” she asks, but I still don’t hold any will power and fail to answer. Please elaborate, I think to myself. She does. “There’s no time. Go. Warn them. Tell them what’s coming.”
Is there more people to the story? I thought it was all about me. Narcissistic, I know. Is the time-travel thing connected to the events from the night I got beat up? Please, don’t tell me I need to find out who those bullies are. I don’t care.
“Warn them.” She repeats.
I know you know the answer. Tell me what to say, and to whom.
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And like the completely normal person I am, I responded;
"I haven't written anything in three months."
The book has around four short chapters by now. I spend most of my time doing other stuff, like watching TV/anime(on computah) and reading, so I don't really write it. But now that I mention it, I really should continue it..
Also made a drawing in MSpaint. First time using it(MSpaint).
Story time (Sitcome like almost): Let me paint you a picture: It's my birthday eve, I need some extra bits and foodies for my birthday party so I decide to go to Tescos. I get the stuff zoom out with my phone in my hand ready to call a friend. I needed to grab some games from hers' for that same party.
All good UNTIL the phone slipped through my finger and I watch it in slow mo hit the floor, then the sidewalk and THEN the SEWAGE cover thing. I'm thinking...surely it won't go in...it'll just stop there. NO...that shut went in one of the open sliths. I DROPPED MT FKN PHONE IN THE STREET SEWAGE IN MY BIRTHDAY EVE....
The rats unlocking my phone and ordering 1000 pizzas right now :
My mom lost her computer this morning, and just couldn't find it anywhere, so she asked everyone if we had seen it, or if we had any idea where she could have put it. None of us did, so after giving up she went to work without it. My dad just went into the room where she usually keeps the laptop, and found the charger plugged into the wall, so he tried following it, and sure enough, he found the computer. It was on the bed next to her desk... under the comforter... with a pillow on top... can't wait to find out how it got there.
So friday night I was obligated through friendship to go to an acquaintance's 16th birthday party. It was a "rave." Quotations because she's a white girl with a decent amount of money and a seemingly stable family. So she doesn't really have an idea of what an actual rave is. And leading up to the party I kept making jokes about bringing ecstasy and she took me seriously and kept getting angry and telling me that her dad would kick me and my friend's ass if we brought drugs. OTL
So anyways I go and there's lights and glow sticks(she kept telling us about how she spent over $100 on them)Â and music and refreshments so that was okay. So a few of us were dancing and asked if we could change it to actual dance music and she let us and that's fine until pumped up kicks came on and the few dancing people were really excited and then she let the depressing scene queen change it not 30 seconds into the song. Yeah not cool.
Backtracking a bit but at the beginning of the party I was doing the jerk and because I'm a white girl one of my feet slipped back out from underneath me and I slammed face-first into the concrete. It kind of hurt and I was laying on the gorund for a while. i have a nasty bruise on my hip now OTL OTL OTL
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