_Diary Entry, June 5th 2006,_

There is something deeply wrong here. Completely wrong. Utterly, completely, horrendously WRONG.

There has been since we arrived at the cabin, Me, Yelena, Elia, their boyfriends and the only person here I really know (Griffin) who dragged me along because I had nothing better to do for the summer and I should meet his new friends “they’re cool.”

So, as I’m writing this, I’m laying in an oversized bed, listening to the sound of the birds, in the middle of nowhere, after a long day of not third, not 4th, not even 5th but 6th wheeling, a personal record surely! 6th wheeling consisted of reading books, trying to find service where there is none, following the other around like a wild mutt and kicking it back, legs dangling in the cold lake.

That’s when it happened._ _

_ ‘Dude, what are you doing over here, all alone? We’re about to eat!’_ Griffin called over to me, but I hadn’t got up, i was ignoring him at the time, his friends, as it turns out, like to make distasteful jokes, that apply to me, to _us — _not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

That was before I’d seen a face, staring right at me from the other side of the lake, completely submerged in the water. The face was covered by a mask so I couldn’t really tell if they were living or dead, head to toe in leather overalls, inanimate, unmoving, barely a twitch of a deteriorating finger. After that, I was stuck to Griffin’s side.

Griffin, Yelena, Elia, Zachary and Jariah all tell me that I’m just tired, _‘That totally weren’t a dead body you saw Harley’ _Elia would mutter dismissively _‘Be cool, Harley’ _her boyfriend would pile on. Then after snacks, I’d overhear them asking Jeremy, the mop-haired, ex four-eyed, newest member slowly becoming apart of their hive mind: why he even invited me. I’ve been asking myself that _exact_ same question.

..And it’s okay, because I’ll be gone tomorrow, pale palms, torn fingernails, unmoving faces floating in the lake were more than enough of a final straw, and even right now, I hear footsteps creaking below me. I’ve already texted Mom, she’ll be here tomorrow, she’ll pick me up and get me away from that dead body, these false people.

I swear because the floorboards in this house are extra creaky tonight, according to whoever is walking around downstairs.

Dear, mom,

if you’re reading this, if you come here tomorrow and I’m not here.

** I’m in The Lake.**