Shias Log: Day 9 by Timothy Alan Lyrics
Day 9. October 31, 2012. 11:11 pm.
Happy Halloween, I suppose. Though I’m sure little munchkins dressed in Frankenstein and Iron Man costumes wouldn’t be as frightening as what’s right outside the window. A scary movie about a killer would be a fairy tale now. I’d honestly rather deal with Michael Myers than the Thy-Trips.
Today is Memories Day. Me, Elliot and Dana have been sharing memories since we woke up earlier this morning. For whatever reason, it doesn’t seem as bad as last time. Before when we shared memories, reality set in and it got depressingly quiet, but not today. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe the optimism of having food still hasn’t worn off yet. I hope it doesn’t. I like it.
Oh, we found the missing can of food, by the way. It must’ve rolled under the sink in the kitchen when no one was paying attention. I told it not to go running off like that or it’d make us all worried, and it said it was sorry. I’m glad we found it. We all said our apologies to each other, and it reminded me of the time Elliot was accused at his school for stealing the class hamster, Mr. Hamster (not particularly a creative name, but hey, they’re ten-year-olds). The principal called our house asking Elliot to return it, saying that a student said he spotted Elliot putting Mr. Hamster in his bookbag before leaving the classroom. I returned the call, explaining that my brother was no thief, and suggested to instead check the student who said he saw Elliot with the hamster. Placing blame on someone else would be the perfect way to cover your own tracks. Turns out I was right. Anyways, thinking of the story made me laugh aloud (Elliot, one, insanity, zero), which sparked Memories Day.
Elliot told a story of how he stayed over his friend Marshall’s house for a sleepover. He said everything was great until it was time for them to go to bed. Marshall had the wonderful idea of telling ghost stories before they went to sleep. Oh, I knew something was off about that kid. But since Elliot didn’t know too many stories of the spirits of the deceased wandering the world of the living, he just listened to all of the stories Marshall told. And he had a lot. Very befitting to the Halloween season. Elliot could barely sleep that night because of it, and his recollection of it is why this entry is so late. I had to stay up with him because he was terrified by his own story. Just my luck.
Dana told a story about her older sister, Clarissa. She’s the same age as me, and she was applying for colleges when this whole epidemic happened. Neither of them are natives to New York, but Clarissa wanted to go to a school over here, where she would live with her brother. Maybe they’re in the same situation as Elliot and I (by which I mean no parents) because Dana went with her. Since the start of this whole mess, they’ve been protecting each other like siblings should. I liked her story. I hope Clarissa and her brother are alright. I know the burdens of being worried about a younger sibling. I hope they find us. More hope for the Hopebook. It never hurt anyone.
Insert evil laugh for Halloween, Shia.
Happy Halloween, I suppose. Though I’m sure little munchkins dressed in Frankenstein and Iron Man costumes wouldn’t be as frightening as what’s right outside the window. A scary movie about a killer would be a fairy tale now. I’d honestly rather deal with Michael Myers than the Thy-Trips.
Today is Memories Day. Me, Elliot and Dana have been sharing memories since we woke up earlier this morning. For whatever reason, it doesn’t seem as bad as last time. Before when we shared memories, reality set in and it got depressingly quiet, but not today. I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe the optimism of having food still hasn’t worn off yet. I hope it doesn’t. I like it.
Oh, we found the missing can of food, by the way. It must’ve rolled under the sink in the kitchen when no one was paying attention. I told it not to go running off like that or it’d make us all worried, and it said it was sorry. I’m glad we found it. We all said our apologies to each other, and it reminded me of the time Elliot was accused at his school for stealing the class hamster, Mr. Hamster (not particularly a creative name, but hey, they’re ten-year-olds). The principal called our house asking Elliot to return it, saying that a student said he spotted Elliot putting Mr. Hamster in his bookbag before leaving the classroom. I returned the call, explaining that my brother was no thief, and suggested to instead check the student who said he saw Elliot with the hamster. Placing blame on someone else would be the perfect way to cover your own tracks. Turns out I was right. Anyways, thinking of the story made me laugh aloud (Elliot, one, insanity, zero), which sparked Memories Day.
Elliot told a story of how he stayed over his friend Marshall’s house for a sleepover. He said everything was great until it was time for them to go to bed. Marshall had the wonderful idea of telling ghost stories before they went to sleep. Oh, I knew something was off about that kid. But since Elliot didn’t know too many stories of the spirits of the deceased wandering the world of the living, he just listened to all of the stories Marshall told. And he had a lot. Very befitting to the Halloween season. Elliot could barely sleep that night because of it, and his recollection of it is why this entry is so late. I had to stay up with him because he was terrified by his own story. Just my luck.
Dana told a story about her older sister, Clarissa. She’s the same age as me, and she was applying for colleges when this whole epidemic happened. Neither of them are natives to New York, but Clarissa wanted to go to a school over here, where she would live with her brother. Maybe they’re in the same situation as Elliot and I (by which I mean no parents) because Dana went with her. Since the start of this whole mess, they’ve been protecting each other like siblings should. I liked her story. I hope Clarissa and her brother are alright. I know the burdens of being worried about a younger sibling. I hope they find us. More hope for the Hopebook. It never hurt anyone.
Insert evil laugh for Halloween, Shia.