Even though his thoughts and feelings bothered him as he undid the strap that held the book closed for unwanted eyes, his fingers turned the page without hesitation. The dark eyes darted towards the ink on the pages and started to follow the lines of the letters and words. A swift breeze blew the curtains aside and made the hair on his forearms rise. However, he hardly noticed and kept his eyes fastened on the page in front of him.

June 5^th

Summer is drawing closer now. Actually, according to the calendar, summer arrived five days ago. However, if you ask me it feels more like March or April. I can't say that I like it. I am not overly fond of either heat or cold, but the summer is supposed to warm. That's just how it is. I know complaining about it won't make it any better, but what else can I do? To be honest, I feel like that  is all I am doing and will be doing with this diary. Complaining. That is what people do with these, right? Maybe they should call them complaining-books instead?

It jerked slightly in the corner of his mouth. Not exactly a smile, but something similar. Complaining hadn't been unlike her. Not at all. In fact, during the first part of the time they had spent together he had felt himself growing closer and closer to becoming mad over all of her complaining. While thinking back on the many different complaints she had thrown at him his fingers flowed over the ink toward the bottom of the page. Without further thinking he turned the page and focused his eyes on the words written in black ink.

June 11^th

I'm scared. I have no idea where I am or how I got here. My phone is dead and I have no way of charging it. I have no idea where I am or how to contact anyone. There is a man here. He doesn't speak much. Actually, I don't think I've heard him speak at all. He scares me. He haven't hurt me or anything, he has hardly entered the room I'm in. It's a big room. The walls are pale. There is a window that stretches from the floor and almost up to the ceiling. If you open it you'll be able to step out on a little balcony. When I found out I considered jumping down and running away. The balcony is on the third floor. If I jumped I'd probably break my arms and legs. If I ran away I'd probably get lost and tracked down before the moon came up. Nothing looks familiar. Nothing at all. There is a big garden outside. And I mean big. There is a road leading up to the house with grand trees on both sides. To be honest, I almost feel like I'm back in an old movie. Trapped in a room in one of those big houses the wealthy people live in. Or, not exactly trapped. I am allowed to go outside the room. I just don't like it. Whenever I do I feel like he is watching my every move. It creeps me out. I don't like it here. I spend most of my time in bed. It's a big bed. Quite comfortable too. It could probably hold four people and still be comfortable. I woke up in this bed yesterday. I don't know how I got here. The last thing I remember was walking down the street on my way to the store. I was going to buy some groceries for dinner, and suddenly everything went black and the next thing I knew I was laying in a bed in a foreign house. I know I've already written it, but I'll write it again. I'm scared...

As his eyes followed the flow of words across the page his brows furrowed. He had known she was scared in the beginning. He had been able to sense her fear from outside the room. Of course he had had some understanding for it. Who wouldn't? However, he couldn't help but think back to the day they first met.

The sky was clouded. Birds chirped in some of the trees planted along the road. Cars drove by. People walked on the pavement. Alone. With friends. Walking their dogs. She walked alone. A bag hung over her shoulder. Not an empty bag, just almost empty. Probably to carry the groceries in after they'd been purchased. He knew where she was going. He had been standing outside the window when she argued with her mother about going to the store. In the end she lost and he slipped away quietly while she collected her shoes and jacket and prepared to leave. He stood by the trunk of a tree, cloaked by the shadows of the large branches as she came closer. They were in a park. A public place, though he didn't fear the gaze of unwanted eyes. In a swift motion he stepped in front of her. Surprise appeared on her face at the sight of him while his own face remained blank. She could see him. He had expected as much. In  another swift motion he raised his hand and gently touched her forehead with his index finger. That was all it took. A simple touch and her knees gave in. Her eyes closed and the girl fainted. He caught her quickly and before she hit the ground. To those around it would be as if they never saw her that day. As if she never entered the park. With the unconscious girl scooped up in his arms he looked around. There was no one there. Some humans, but none of those he wished to be hidden from. It had been a simple task. Find the girl. Take her away and keep her contained until everything was ready for her to be collected. The first part of his task was completed. With a final glance around he closed his eyes and drifted away into what felt like a cold void. Seconds after he opened his eyes and looked upon the big, old house. Without a word he walked towards the entrance, up the stairs to the third floor and into the room he had made ready for her. He lay her gently down on the bed. For a few short seconds he stood there, looking at her. His gaze then turned to the nightstand. An empty glass and a mug of water appeared, and with that he left the room without further ado.