Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Day Forty-Three: My past is haunting me... literally


Something came in the night, diary, but not what I’d expected. I wasn’t eaten. I guess that’s obvious since I’m writing in you and not sitting in something’s belly... though I guess I COULD still be writing in you, in something's belly, which would be like a three-way activity and containment thing

Off track. Wasn't making sense anyway. Back to the story.

I was lying on the ground, trying to sleep, when one of my big toes wiggled in my boot. I wiggled it a bit myself, wondering if I’d flinched, when the other one wiggled. Then all of my little toes wiggled, and my whole foot lifted, and before I knew it I was spinning around like one of the blade traps on the Neck!

I managed to drag myself out of my sleeping bag and grab onto a rock, holding it while I screamed like crazy. Then I dropped... and my sleeping bag came flying at me and slid over my head! I was all "What the hell, this isn’t funny!" Like some trick my brother would play when we were kids and out camping or something!

Eventually I got the sleeping bag off my head, and once I did I noticed a bunch of little indentations in the dirt in front of me, just like I always saw at home:

‘DAGO HAI IS MY PHLIL’

And that was accompanied by a dirty picture of two dogs and a parakeet. In other words, Philip the Ghost followed me from the castle.

I, uh, tried to greet him, but it’s hard to talk to someone you can’t see. I guess Philip’s learned how to disappear when he wants, ‘cause I don’t see the broody looking ghost following me around all the time.

I’m not sure why he came along. I know Phlip still doesn’t like me much ‘cause I had a part in him getting killed. I just hope he doesn’t screw up this whole trip. He might not appreciate the seriousness of having a whole castle of sick people, being that he's already dead. I'm not dead so I can't necessarily judge, but ghosts probably place less importance on life.

I want Philip to play nice, so I spent some of today teaching him more letters. It’s nice to have something to do other than stare at the sky, I guess, though I wish he’d stop writing swear words in the dirt. Seems like profanities come naturally to him. I don't remember Philip being so vulgar when he was alive. Is that just part of becoming a ghost? You turn into a pig, as well?

I’m off. I walked a long way today, and I’m quite tired. Need to sleep. Still no vicious animals, thank the gods, and now something else can keep watch while I snooze.

Assuming Philip doesn't just let some big nasty eat me. I don't wanna spend eternity roaming the plains with him. That would suck.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Adventurer

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