November 3, 1980
I'm in the mountains now, alone and scared. Is it ok for me to cry? I wish I could cry but it seems so wrong that I do. I have so many questions running through my head, but no answers. All I want is a simple answer to any of them. Will I die? Is it ok for me to be afraid? Why is this happening? Positive, yes! That's what I need to be, positive. Nothing is going to turn out bad, my morale will continue to stay good and I shall get more faith. Winter is coming, it's getting colder around here. I miss my dear Andrew. Oh how I wish he was here with me right now. Sweet Andrew, I do hope he is doing fine down in Plymouth and not being hurt.
November 10, 1980
What do I want to be when I get out of this situation? I don't really know. I always thought I would go into psychology for the magic world or something like that. I could never be an auror, too dangerous for my liking. I'm just a muggle-born so there is no chance in politics for me. Me, I could never become a teacher, the kids would walk all over me. I want to make a difference though, help someone's life. One person would do, that's all I ask for, to many a tiny difference in the world. Not that it's possible - wait, I cannot say that any more, I am being positive. Now days I have been thinking of becoming a writer of children's stories. I could never do the news, it's to cruel. Oh dear, look at me, I'm rambling on again about things that don't matter. What matters is the fact that I am sitting here under a tree, somewhere in the Grampian Mountains, running away for the Dark Lord who is in fact out to kill me and the rest of the muggle-born people. Reality is too harsh for me, I would prefer to live in a world where everything is perfect. Actually, now that I think about it, I wouldn't want to live in a world that is perfect. It would be to dull and it is not possible. No it is not. I miss my mother, father, sister, owl, dog, and most of all I miss Andrew. He is my love, my light, and right now I am without him. We both knew in the end we would be separated, but I thought it would only be for the summer months. Only now am I realizing what I have lost, maybe I did take things for granted. I never hurt Andrew but never fully appreciated him. Being out here in the darkness, all alone, it makes you think about your sins and what you have done to others.
November 16, 1980
The mountains were scary, strange creatures were all around me. I even saw a vampire! Oh how I have never been more scared in my life. I am writing this as I sit outside of the Silver Rose Inn. Civilization is so grand even if it is only Dundee. Soon though I will be crossing magic territory. Godic's Hollow is coming up and past Dundee is a magical reserve one could say, not a muggle in sight for two week's worth of travel. These travels have worn me down greatly no matter the time. I sit here day after day, running from a world that I once loved and cherished, is it my fault that I was born into a muggle family? If so than I still do not care, my family is above everything, right alongside Andrew. Right now though, I cannot think about them, my life is in peril as I dare to cross the magical land. Maybe I should have picked another route to take, but this one seemed so safe. Until I dared to think of course, thinking has always been my crime, my sin. Tomorrow I start another leg of the journey. With these tears of sorrow I put down the pen and go to sleep, I only hope that sweet dreams of Andrew will come to my head.
November 21, 2002
I passed through Godic's Hollow last eve. Death Eaters swarmed the area and oh the sights I saw shall forever plague my mind. There were innocent women, of all bloodlines, being made to stand in the street with no clothes, the degrading horror. I managed to get by the guards in my disguise, pretending to be a Death Eater whore. I felt them, I felt those eyes, roaming my body, taking in everything. Never in my life have I felt to naked and used, yet my clothes were on. These people live in terror yet no one will rise against this group to regain control. From what I saw, I fear all order has been lost. I fear I must cut this entry short, for the Death Eaters and doing their rounds, checking to make sure everyone is in their proper places. I can only pray that I do not get discovered, I wish to live, I know I do.
November 30, 2002
My worst nightmare has come true. The walls seem to be closing in on me, so cold and bleak. Will the stone walls never leave my mind? I was caught no more than three days ago, digging through the trash for food, of all things. I fear that in this cell I must rot. Oh how I hate to think of what will happen to me, locked away like a bird. The Death Eaters here are cruel, wandering around gloating that they've captured another runaway. I was placed into this cell late last night. This afternoon I shall be taken of all identity, I fear. However they do not know of this journal, hidden under the loose stones that line the wall. I can only sit here now and wonder what I ever did in my life that was so horrid that I deserve this. I regret having taken things for granted yet in all my heart I cannot make myself regret my heritage and what I am. They may be able to take everything away from me but I doubt they can take my spirit. I am in a cell, both in my mind and outside. I feel the pain radiating from this building yet I cannot see anything. The only source of light is a small hole in the door that let's air in. I'm already suffocating though, in my mind as I wallow in misery. The Death Eater who brought me my food was haunting. He couldn't have been a year older than me but he was sucked into this world, destroyed by evil. All I want to know is how a man such as Voldemort can wake up in the morning and be able to go on with a clear conscious. Doesn't he know the horror he causes, the pain, the suffering?