Dear Diary ...

Dear Diary,                                                                                                          March 22
                                                                                                                              1:30pm



Here I am finally standing at the gate to the garden. It’s a bit colder today than I had expected. At least my black and pink winter pea-coat is keeping me warm. Also instead of my normal old pair of converses, I have decided to wear my black doc martin boots.

As I stand here looking at the gate, I can feel an energy emerging from beyond the white concrete walls. Only there was one problem, the gate had been locked. I tried jiggling it a bit, keeping my fingers crossed that the gate was so old it would break under pressure. When that didn’t work, I tired a series of other methods.

Here’s a list of the other things that I have tried…

-The ladder in the broken down old wooden shed. (Too small)
-Took a walk around, maybe find a back entrance? (Not even a dent in the wall)
-Climb the vines that have grown to the wall. (Fell on my ass)
-Tore apart the shed looking for the key. (All I got was dirty hands)

I guess some research is in order before I can find my way in. Maybe someone can give me some further information at dinner tonight. It doesn’t hurt to ask, most of the workers he hired had worked here before, and maybe someone has an idea. Anything I find out I will be sure to jot down in the diary. 

*Madison Rhodes*