August 18
Dear Journal,
I had a dream. I was running. Running away from it. It was chasing me through the forest. I was afraid to look back, scared it would catch me. There was no where to run. If I hid, it would have found me.
The trees were tall, too tall. Leaves hung down, giving the area a 'jungle' effect. I could've climbed a tree, but it had the ability to quickly swing through trees.
I was scared.
