February 22, 2014.
Dear diary,
I met someone late today. A girl, 15 like me. She was in the park sitting by the lake on the old, worn down bench. "There's a new bench," I had said, pointing to the more modished one. "A lot nicer than this old thing."
She told me she was sitting where she was for a reason. When I asked why she told me to be patient.
"8:47," she murmered an hour later. "I have to go."
I asked her why.
She answered with be patient.
Her name is Silver.
