I sat in my bed, flipping the pages of the journal, reading each section.
“Lacy dinner is ready!”
I sighed. Everything seemed so dull. Everything seemed to drift apart. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who I was. I don’t know who I’m going to be.
“I’m going to skip dinner tonight!” I yell back.
I get no reply, but that didn’t matter.
I flipped to the next page of the journal.
March 22
This is all so strange. I feel nothing like myself today. The world around me spins so fast. I feel as though I’m in a never ending tunnel, trying to find the light. The strangeness of the outside world overcomes me, and I become nothing but a lost soul.
I feel as though I can relate to that person, I feel those feelings right now.
I stare at my umbrella and realize who this person is that has written on these pages; the person that has witnessed the feelings of a true soul; the person who describes the feelings like no other.
This is the person, the person inside me.