Writers Forest[Editing]

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Too many shadows
In my room
Too many hours
In this midnight
Too many corners
In my mind
So Much to do
To set my heart right

"Wake up, Kevin. I have something for you."

My eyes snap open and search the room to ask the source of the voice exactly why I was woken up from the wonderland we all call dreams.

"Why have you woken me up?" I snap unimpressed. The first thing I notice is that it is dark.

'What time is it?' I wonder.

Thats when I remember that I was woken up. Anger bubbles up in me as I scan the room for the culprit. No one was there.

Only then do I see a figure emerge from the shadows of my walls.

I am about to call for help when a hand clasps over my mouth.

I can now see that it is an old woman. Wrinkles decorate her face as she looks me in the eyes. She is wearing what looks like rags , hunched over a walking stick.

"As I was saying, I have something to give you." She says, "And don't scream!" She lets go of my mouth.

I dare not to scream.

"Who are you, and how did you get in my room without the alarm going off?" I question her.

Its only after I ask this that I start to get creeped out by this whole ordeal.

That's when I begin to lose it. "I don't know you. You're in my room. I'm dying tonight. This is it, huh?" I begin to panic, raising my voice.

"None of that matters right now," she states handing me a box. "I don't have much time, now open it." Worry is evident in her voice.

"Don't have much time for what, killing me?" I ask, hesitant to open the box.

"What would I need to kill you for, if your own worry would?" I can tell she is growing agitated with me.

'This woman is annoying me.'

'I'll open the box and show her just how not-worried I am!' I think to myself.

"I don't care whether you like me, just open it already, Mr. Not-Worried," the old woman says with a chuckle.

Flabbergasted, I stare at her.

'How did she know what I just thought.'

"Don't worry about how I do what I do, boy. Open it, now," she says. I can tell she is getting impatient now, so I just open it.

I open the box to find...

"A book?" I ask, a little unimpressed.

"Yes. Take good care of it."

"It's a diary."

"And you are a writer, but whatever you do, don't open it until I give the go-ahead."

"But why are you giving me th-"

"Do you ever stop talking? Just do what I told you." She stares into thin air for a moment when she finishes, as if trying to remember something.

"Ahh yes, thats it. Very important." She pauses and stares at me. "Take my advice, where it leads you, just go. Your life will change for the better."

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