A translucent figure hovered over me in my sleep last night. This figure didn’t have a face, it was pale white with shaky hands. Its figure was hesitant as it approached, cold and full of woe. For I couldn’t tell its intentions, but once I awoke it disappeared, as if it was nothing but fog with a bright shining light. As I looked around I was greeted with nothing but darkness. Darkness and that rotting smell that haunts our house. I decided that today I would visit the doctor, for I know I am not insane, or of such propaganda that’s frowned upon. We discussed how I was feeling today, if this has happened before, if I had symptoms of the plague, if anything tragic has happened within the last year. I laughed in his face, who does he think he is? Does he suspect me of being crazy? I’ll be damned if he suspects anything of a hoax. For I am a clean man, I pray to thou day and night, and I pray for good fortune. I am the most sane out of anyone in this cursed town. Sane compared to the woman that lurks in my house crying for the dead. Sane compared to our so-called king that's causing folk to become homeless by burning our town down to ashes. Sane compared to this god forsaken sinner of a man who thinks, I of all people is insane. My sweet baby girl, I don’t know how much longer I can bear this troubled life.
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An entry A Day, Just to See You Once More
Espiritual[[An old highschool English assignment]] A young family of 35, living in an era of the 1600's face a dreadful fate after their daughter of 8 years old, died. Iphigenia, having been ill of a mysterious disease with no cure, passed off as the flu, pas...
