Dreaming Is for the Free

Fourteen

What I need is a good night's sleep. I desperately need it. I've been anticipating crawling into bed and drifting off into a deep slumber all day. But now that the time is here, I can't. Something's clouding up my brain. I have this feeling that I'm forgetting to do something. Something very important. There's no way I'm going to rest without figuring out what it is.

I'm thinking profusely, but the outcome is ineffective. Nothing sticks out. What could I be forgetting? I worked on some assignments. I don't have anything due. I set time aside to study. I worked on music today, which wasn't even a part of the plan. I talked to Grandma. So what is it that I haven't done yet?

It has to be stress that's keeping me from thinking clearly. This is the most stress I've felt in a while. I probably shouldn't have participated in the search. Of course I had my reasons but if I knew that I would be feeling like this by the end of the day, I would've just gone to class. The search did nothing but create more questions. It didn't offer any sense of resolution. The search was a lot. It was mentally and physically exhausting but come to think of it, the search wasn't a complete bust. I did find something. Charlotte's journal.

And that's when it hits me..

I need to go through Charlotte's journal entries.

How could I have possibly forgotten to do that? The discovery of that journal was a highlight of my day. I'm losing it.

I quickly go over to my desk to grab my phone before hopping back on to my bed. I open up the photo gallery and begin the investigation.

My heart immediately wants to jump out of my chest.

I was able to snap 12 pages of the journal. So that's 12 entries I need to read. Deep down, I'm fearful of what I might discover. My biggest wish is to find out that all of this was just an exaggerated ploy for attention. But so far, nothing is adding up. I really don't know how detectives do it.

When I found the journal, it looked as though at least five or six of the pages were ripped out. To add on to that, I received two notes that match the paper that was inside of the journal. So more than likely, the note sender was the one who ripped those pages out. I wonder if the sender was trying to take the journal from Charlotte and ended up ripping those pages out. Then they decided to torment me by writing notes on those pages and sending them to me. That's a huge possibility.

How did the journal end up under that wheelbarrow though?

If I was the sender and had just committed a crime, I would want to get rid of all evidence. I wouldn't hide the evidence. I would destroy it. Something must have stopped this person from destroying it so they quickly hid it. That's the only solution I can come up with at the moment, but the journal might add some insight.

The last 12 pictures taken were at the crime scene. I click on the first one and zoom in closer so that I can read each line as clearly as possible. The first entry is dated: 7/20/2022. It says,

Mom thought it would be a good idea for me to start back journaling. I haven't done this in years and even though I hate to admit it, she may be right. I missed it. Let's see how consistent I am with it. Fall semester starts soon so I'm going to be swamped with work. I'll try to spend at least 10 minutes a day journaling.

A short message. It doesn't seem like she was planning on dropping out like some people thought. She was thinking about the upcoming semester. This seems like a relatively normal entry. Onto the next one.

7/22/2022

I've never been good with secrets. Everybody knows that. And now I'm hiding one from all my friends and family. But I can't hold it in any longer.... Truth is, I met someone a couple months ago and I think I may be in love.-