Howdy. I'm gonna be just writing little story ideas and such.

The clearing on the mountain.

It was most likely noon, but I wouldn't know seeing as there are no clocks in my house. I lay in my bed, feeling the warm sunlight on my face. Is there even a reason to get up? No, not really. I sit up anyway and get ready. My room is small, with minimal decorations and a vanity next to the door. My outfit was dull and grey, as usual, with the exception of my candy striped scarf and neon blue band-aid across the bridge of my nose. I pull my long blue hair into twin ponytails and continue. Exiting the house, I look around. My small town was bustling, as usual. It was a decent day, warm with a cool breeze, and the trees were rustling along with the gentle wind. I walked the entire way to the small drop-off area on the mountain, murmuring pleasantries to people who passed and greeted me. My sweater went well beyond my hands, so I tended to just nod when people waved at me. I arrived at my little area and smiled softly. The area was avoided for the most part, seeing as the history behind it was quite dark. It was just as I remembered it. The rock with blood stains, the ground with fresh dirt, good for digging, and the trees. Oh, the trees. They were beautiful weeping willows with countless nooses hanging from their majestic branches. I glanced behind me. The town wasn't very far away, and the path was just a foot worn trial going up a slight hill. I then looked back in front of me. The view of the drop off was breathtaking, as the only thing you could see for miles is the ocean.

Yes, this place is important to me. It would be the last place I saw, after all. 

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I can never seem to make friends.

The forest around here is serene and quiet. I enjoy spending my time here. The surrounding area doesn't matter, so I'll just explain this spot in the forest. The trees are tall and majestic, placing a roof over my head while still allowing little beams of warm, honey coloured light to grace the soft ground I rest on. The grass is always green and sways along with the gentle breeze. The pretty wild flowers are an assortment of all colours, and smell sweet. The fauna of the area consists of little song birds and squirrels, and a few deer, foxes, rabbits, and an occasional bear. There is a single stump in the middle of this area, which has wildflowers growing around it. I like to sit against the stump as I wait for somebody to come along. It is very rare for people to come this way, as it is off the path of the rest of the forest. When I do see people, the never seem to see me. I cannot call to them or wave my arms. I just sit and wait for somebody to see me. On the rare occasion that someone does see me, the usually run and cry out. "No, I just want to be your friend!"

But they cannot hear my thoughts.

I have been here for a long time now, so I can understand why the people who see me are afraid. I haven't seen myself, but I know that I do not look like I do on the missing posters.

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I'm rather tired

It has been like this for months. I can't seem to sleep. I can't even nap. Tonight in question, though, has been the worst of it. It's been storming for hours. Every time lightning strikes, I count, in mississippi's, how far away the storm is. From the minimal and most likely incorrect information I've gathered, the storm is getting closer. 

Restless, I get out of bed and look out the window. There in the distance, as I had guessed, was the woman. She just stands there. Not moving, not speaking, just standing. I stand quietly and watch her. A flash of light shatters the dark glassy skies. 

One,

Two, 

Three, 

Four, 

Boom. 

The woman is closer. This little game continues until the woman is a mere few feet away from my window. Silly woman. She stands here every time it storms. Perhaps to remind me of what I've done? If that truly were the case, I assume others would be here too. After all, the ground at my house has always been rather hollow.