My Neighbor I Know So Well (AmeCan)

I Spoke Too Soon (America)

20 September, 1861

        Dear Diary, it's almost pitch black where I'm hiding right now. I can hear the sound of shots flying across wood and penetrate into flesh. The wails of dying men are drowned out by the shouts of the wounded on both sides.  Did you expect for things to continue going uphill? I may have burned one of my entries from after the year thirty-seven to alleviate myself from the memories. I noticed how many meetings Matthew hadn't shown up to, I wonder why? Actually, I think I know why. One of his members could've told him about my citizens crossing borders to join his rebel cause. He found out, and that's why he hasn't shown up. Damn it all! If my statesmen could've controlled the behaviors of their citizens then maybe none of this could've happened! Curse them, curse them all! Thanks to them, our relations have dropped severely! I don't even know if he trusts me again! Why couldn't they have ceased and stayed home? We had no right to be involved in his own affairs, yet we had to do something. Recklessness is what it is! Wait, why are there no sounds of fire now? Did they stop shooting? I'm too scared to draw the blinds and steal a peek outside my window in fear that they will see me. How else will I know though; I'm going right now.

        I went successfully unnoticed. They're still there, but on both sides have lesser amounts of men than previously. I'm guessing it's five o' clock noon right now and they're taking a break. In case if anything happens, I have my gun beside me. More shouts I can hear are coming from outside, they're screaming "Confederates" and "Union" followed by verbal insults. Where is my representative? I hope he's okay. You and I both know I can't stay here forever. I need to get out someday, or else I'll starve from the limited amount of food I have in my manor. Before I fled here, I checked to see if anyone was home to find not one soul present. Peculiar, yes, moreover when I opened my front door, that a shot was fired which penetrated right through the wood. Immediately I locked the door, or all the doors, and ran here. I'm fortunate enough to be where I am and away from the battle taking place on my terrain. I would hate to- what was that? I think it was the door, someone is at my door! It doesn't sound like knocking, it's too hard to be considered a knock. No, whoever it is, they're trying to get in! Dammit! I can't move! I can't even create a sound! I'm striding to my wardrobe and hiding there. It's the only alternative I have now that my manor is infiltrated by people of either side. I hope it's the Union, they can protect me...can't they? Unlike the Confederates who would be more than happy to have me killed. Steps are coming up the stairwell and around the halls. They know I'm here. The shouts are getting harsher; threats are being thrown at me if I don't come out. No, no, no, the footsteps are coming closer! I don't want to shoot whoever is out there, I can't! They could be my enemy, but they're born of my country! I'm stuck, I don't know what to do, I can't kill a man, I hate killing, I'm on my own, I-

(The rest is doused in ink)