(Continued from Part 1)
iii. Cassandras Box
Cassandra could have been asleep. From outside her closed bedroom door, nobody could see the glow of her tiny flashlight; nobody could hear the faint scratches of her pencil on paper. Writing in her journal was a hidden aspect of her strict schedule, and considered it just as important as eating breakfast or brushing her teeth. The only time she could do this in private, however, was late at night after her parents had gone to bed.
The subjects she wrote about varied from day to day: sometimes she wrote about dreams she had, sometimes about fantasies. Even bits and pieces of real-life filtered in through the fiction once in a while, but one had to read between the lines in order to understand it.
On this particular night, she wanted to fill up at least six pages of writing, the most she had ever done. Her handwriting was messy but legible, and it read the following:
Erin was trapped inside a box with nowhere to go, but s