You Can Run, But You Can't Hide [R.I.P]

Possibility

Dipper Pines' P.O.V

Ever since Mabel and I returned to California from Gravity Falls, I've hardly made any entries about any anomalies in my journal I created 2 years ago. Mabel and I agreed to not tell our parents about Weirdmageddon, but we allowed each other to slip in little tidbits of the minor weirdness into our conversations with our parents. 

Hate me all you want, but ever since Mom and Dad announced our planned visit to Gravity Falls once again, I've been wishing that I had never found Journal 3 in the first place. If only I had protested more about hanging advertisement signs in the woods, the journal would have rotted into the Earth. That was when I had my first nightmare in 2 years that clearly included a scary, three-sided demon. But, I only had them at least once a week - sometimes twice. 

But, now? They've gotten so bad and so frequent that I had begun to crave coffee and pull terrible all-nighters. I was terrified that frightening anomalies will start spilling into places outside of Gravity Falls and that something would cause disaster. I was even more terrified that something like possession would reoccur. I definitely don't want that happening again. 

Today marked the 2 weeks we had remaining until Mabel and I would return back to Gravity Falls. Mabel was stirring some Mabel Juice while Dad watched some football and Mom did her some of her overdue taxes. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the front door, and I stood to open it, but Mabel beat me to it. Of course, she still thinks she's the alpha just because she's 5 minutes older than me. 

As I wandered to the table, I heard the mailer ask Mabel if this was the correct address. She said something undecipherable, and the door was closed and locked after a few moments. My sister bounded up to me and handed me the package. Well, it wasn't a package...it was a letter with my name written on it. Our house address was written below, but the weird thing was that there was no stamp nor a return address. 

"Huh," I muttered. Mabel was confused, but she brushed it off as a prank of some sort. She usually yanks out the worry from a difficult situation and replaces it with jokes and confidence. Tearing the envelope open, I pulled out a piece of light-blue paper. 

Mabel kept getting in my space and peering over my shoulder, so I told her to bug off.

"Why?" She whined, "I want to see who wrote it!" 

"It's for me, Mabel." I countered, keeping the letter from her reach. She finally surrendered, took a seat at the table, and crossed her arms. 

I turned away from her and unfolded the paper. And froze. 

Hey, Pine Tree! Guess we're going to meet again...some sunny day.