I know I havent posted in such a long time so i'm posting a filler, which is stuff I start to write but never finish. Please!, if you want me to at least finish part of it let me know! Contact me!
Date: ()()()
Entry: 34
Notes:
If I am truly honest, I am beginning to worry. After working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation as their permanent sketch artist, the Big Man Upstairs (and I don’t mean GOD), called me in after only seven months of working there. I thought he was going to fire me, or worse. When I was first called to see the Big Man Upstairs, the elevator ride was the most frightening minute of my life. Now, I do believe this week has topped it.
As I said, I was working for the FBI, but the BMU had other plans for me. He called it a step up; they were transferring me to SOUO, the Scientific Observation of Unnatural Occurrences. I was going to work as their sketch artist with an extra 5,000 dollars added to my paycheck every month. How could I say no to that?
And now, I’m very much wishing I had said no to that.
It started on Monday. A black SUV pulled up on my driveway and an armed guard and a black suit man rang the doorbell. Now, if that doesn’t scare the neighbors nothing will.
“We’re here to escort you to work, Ms. Richards,” said the James Bond look alike. I simply stared at him for a moment before it all registered and I quickly grabbed my belongings: my purse, my sketchbook, and my pencils kit. They drove for what seemed like hours, when I realized we had turned into what looked like an abandoned town. As we got closer I caught glimpses of more military men. I didn’t like where this was headed-
Entry: 34
Notes:
If I am truly honest, I am beginning to worry. After working for the Federal Bureau of Investigation as their permanent sketch artist, the Big Man Upstairs (and I don’t mean GOD), called me in after only seven months of working there. I thought he was going to fire me, or worse. When I was first called to see the Big Man Upstairs, the elevator ride was the most frightening minute of my life. Now, I do believe this week has topped it.
As I said, I was working for the FBI, but the BMU had other plans for me. He called it a step up; they were transferring me to SOUO, the Scientific Observation of Unnatural Occurrences. I was going to work as their sketch artist with an extra 5,000 dollars added to my paycheck every month. How could I say no to that?
And now, I’m very much wishing I had said no to that.
It started on Monday. A black SUV pulled up on my driveway and an armed guard and a black suit man rang the doorbell. Now, if that doesn’t scare the neighbors nothing will.
“We’re here to escort you to work, Ms. Richards,” said the James Bond look alike. I simply stared at him for a moment before it all registered and I quickly grabbed my belongings: my purse, my sketchbook, and my pencils kit. They drove for what seemed like hours, when I realized we had turned into what looked like an abandoned town. As we got closer I caught glimpses of more military men. I didn’t like where this was headed-