Journal 17

I hate being afraid. I hate irrational fear. I woke up in the middle of the night to thunder and lightning. I hate thunder and lightning. I tried to be brave and ignore the storm by hiding under my blankets, but I couldn’t. Every time the lightning lit up the sky and the thunder clapped; I nearly fell off my bed. I think I have a fear of being turned into a French fry.

Tony never moved. He just lay there in his bed next to mine sleeping as if nothing life threatening was happening. I crawled into bed with Tony. He didn’t seem to mind. I don’t even think he noticed I was there until I had stolen all the blankets in my attempt to hide from Mother Nature.

It rained most of the day. Thankfully, the rain stopped a couple of hours ago and I am no longer drenched to the bone. There is almost nothing worse than being cold and wet for hours on end. The only thing good about the rain is that everything smells good afterward.

Tony is becoming a very skilled hunter. He spent most of the morning out in the rain with several of the other men trying to catch something big enough for dinner tonight. I spent most of the morning attempting to keep the fire going.