Eight months of nothing and it’s time to begin, but what should I call this? My Adventure Journal? Everyone has to know the truth in case I get killed on the trail. It’ll be My Escape all written and drawn WHILE IT HAPPENS. Could be a little raw. I’m a little raw. I’ve got my flashlight, my pen, the art pencils, and I’m ready to run. My brother, Will, is staying home—good thing. There’s no other choice for me. I’m going to lay low, still and quiet, blend in, harmonize with the world out there. It’s not an easy thing to be —a boy on a HORSE …riding invisible STILL DAY ONE— 10 p.m.—about a half mile from home Here I am all wrapped in a sleeping bag and it’s weird and scary, and at least it’s not all freezing cold tonight. But I’m out here alone hiding on this craggy, rocky hill, where the moon shines on the edge of Chatsworth and the lights remind me of familiar places. It’s like I’m so close but really far away too. And the moon’s hanging there, so nice like a strange piece of exotic fruit, like it’s wondering who I am, like maybe I’m a starved wolf.
