Oh sweet diary,

Today me and my girlfriend had a dinner party with some friends. I know them from somewhere, I just don’t know how. One of them a been around before, I’m dazed, I can’t remember her name, but I know she has dark brown hair, eyes to match, and sun soaked Indian skin. All of them were laughing and having fun, but it all seemed so eery.

I try to remember diary, but I’m not exactly sure what went on, it was odd indeed. Me and my girlfriend had some coffee after they all left, and then as if the effects were reversed, I knocked out. How strange? I remember a feeling in this sleep. My arms were pricked, liquid seeped through into my veins. I woke up, for 2 days and then…

No I went to sleep again, but I don’t remember waking? Then how could o be writing. If I looked into the mirror, would my reflection look back? What has become of me. Am I alive even? How could I be asleep and yet write in here, dear diary, how is this possible. Where’s my mother and father? 4 hours is a lot of time to ask if I’m still awake or asleep..

(I based this off the crime of Joe Clinique, feel free to research his tragedy)