Entry 1

Hey journal. My name's Cecily. I just took you off a shelf, so if you were meant for something else, too bad. You're gonna hear about me now.
 
So, I don't know where to start with this. Maybe at the prison? Maybe the banquet? Or the cult? I could start with when Bad Mom adopted me last year. I don't know. I just had the craziest fucking three days of my life, and I think it's just gonna get worse from here.
 
I guess I can start with the lightning? Yeah. So, adults always ask what happened to my eyes. They're kinda cloudy. I don't know what happened, but I'm starting to think it has something to do with the fucking lighting coming out of my hands. It all just happened one night. The world's favorite cunt, also known as my most recent mom, was doing her usual bullshit. But she told me something different this time. And it just happened. I think she got really hurt. But it was my chance to run, and now I had a new purpose. So fuck it. I ran. I hope she rots. And I hope her precious little rich-bitch party gets ruined because they smell her burning skin.
 
Fuck. That was dark. I promise I'm not always like this, journal.
 
So yeah. I ran to Summersrest, because now, I might have a clue who my real parents were. I sorta remember my mom, but I don't know anything about my dad. Maybe this town has some answers. Only problem: I'M STUCK WITH THE WORST GROUP OF PEOPLE I'VE EVER FUCKING MET. How we got stuck? Long story. There's a serial killer, then a cult, then some ugly ass mole rats, then some miners? I don't know, yesterday is all a blur. All I wanted was to GET AWAY from everyone the whole time. But I guess I'm stuck for now.
 
Anyway, we're mercenaries now. Some guy with Fish in his name made us all his bitch, and now we need to help him fight cultists for a while. We might be stuck in this contract for a while. But whatever. I'm good at running away if that's what it comes down to again. I just need to figure out who I am, and what the fuck's going on with my body. This wasn't in any of the puberty lectures they gave us at the orphanage...sorry jounral, bad joke.
 
Whatever. I might be dead soon. And just a few days ago, that wouldn't have made a difference to me. But I guess I wanna live now. I have something to figure out. If I do, I'll write it here. And if I don't...you know what happened.
 
You know, you should feel special, journal. You're gonna hear all about these secrets before the others. God, WHY AM I TALKING TO A JOURNAL? I'm such a loser. Whatever. Bye.