AboutAfter hundreds of years, archeologists found a leather journal under the crushed columns of the abandoned ballroom. The last entry read:
"I met her at the masquerade, her streaks of hair were my rays of sunshine, as was that golden gown she wore. Her aroma of roses drew myself to her. I took a deep breath and handed her the bouquet I meant to give to Rosalie. She batted her eyelashes and playfully put one in her mouth... It turned black. I couldn't explain how or why. But the next minute she was stepping closer and closer... I could see doom as bats started to swarm around her. The building was falling to ashes.
Until I woke up in a clinic."
According to years and years of research, the workers at the clinic announced a man dead after hours of his awakening. He was dressed rather nicely, clutching a pen and notebook, with unexplicable scars all over his body.
MY ENTRY DID NOT WIN, BUT I WAS HAPPY AND PROUD OF IT >
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Yesterday was history. Tomorrow is a mystery. But today is gift. That is why it is called a present.