First entry

Dear Diary,

I am exhausted. The pen feels heavy even though it's light as a feather.

My notes will be short and firm; everything this day threw at us was not.

Today a girl ran through the fields with an innocence I haven't seen for a long time. Her determination was profound, and we could all feel it. We almost believed in it. Almost. GB looked at me for a brief second, smiled and hoped. I think she crossed her fingers, but she hid it well. I smiled back, embracing her belief. Seconds later, the girl on the field fell. The hope died in GB's eyes, and her fingers loosened. Determined, she put on her beautiful mask and headed out into the flowers. I watched her all the way as she reached the girl. I felt a sting of sadness when GB lifted the soulless body with care and carried it back to the camp.

The girl is okay — for now. But I know parts of her are gone. Lying somewhere among the wildflowers and grass, shattered, slowly rotting, becoming soil again. That's why the Dandelions are growing strong, but should this be the way? Couldn't there be other ways of becoming resilient?

I won't send the little girl back out there again for a while. She needs to heal and recreate the parts she lost.

GB was a trooper today. I know she was hurting inside. Maybe she saw herself in that girl, many souls ago. Maybe...

I am so tired. I'll do better tomorrow.

Good night.

S.S.