Diary Entry 1

Date: Unknown
Time: Late Afternoon
Location: Undisclosed

Don’t know the point of this. Don’t think it really matters. I don’t know where I am, or how I came to have this crummy old spiral-bound, stained with lab fluids and blood and something else that I can’t identify. Perhaps, by writing things down, it’ll help me remember what happened. Kinda like connect-the-dots, maybe these words that I scrawl will help me realize why I’m in the middle of nowhere, dressed in nothing but a white sack, sore as hell. . .

I’m writing as the thoughts come to me. What if I can’t remember because I don’t want to? It makes me shudder.

Maybe I just don’t have any memories. That doesn’t seem likely, but I’m not going to scratch out the idea. Wastes what little lead I have.

Who am I? I’m a girl. I have unruly red hair and freckles. If I could see my eyes, I imagine that they are blue. It goes with red hair. When I look down at my hands as I write, the fingers are thin, the skin translucent. I think I’m sick. My body hurts all over.

Do I have a name? I can’t recall. Not yet. I’m going to work on that.

There’s a noise. Something’s coming this way, and by the sound of its snuffling I don’t think it’s human. Sounds more like a bear.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t know what’s worse…