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Dear Diary, for the last time....



The mountain range is not far. I am weak, confused and mentally ill. My fingers ache as I write this in the bitter cold. But with this fur around me, why can't I withstand the cold? Maybe I haven't been a rabbit for that long or not a rabbit in true gender. No, I was a human once.



I did ask a group of rabbits along my desired yet unknown path. They told me that a rabbit named Talec lived up in these mountains alone yet welcomed many people into his abode. I decided to see this Talec and hopefully he can help me get to somewhere where I can find some answers or a permenant place to live. Then again, do I actually want to live another life again?



Anyway I have no food now and the fog is growing heavier as well as the storm. But the weather is changing, from a storm to a snowstorm. I had better take shelter. As of yet I cannot see any....I must continue....



.....An hour later my head hurts severely. I cannot reallly see wat I am wriing and weter it is spelllt corectly. My head....ahhh my..........



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Jack Goldhorn lay alone, unconsious in the thick snow, too cold to get up and too upset to think himself out. Luckily somebody had seen him fall and was there to help him. In the thick fog all you could make out that it was a rabbit, wearing a large trench coat.....



(By the way I'm not taking any characters into the story, ie you cannot volunteer. I will choose you personally. There will only be a selective amount so stay tuned and see if you're in it!)



Rumbo