Normally, I wouldn’t care. I’d deal with another rowdy person at the pub and Charlie would see them out. It would just be another day. I thought today was just another ordinary day, turns out…. Not even close…

Started off with a few drinks and a conversation with a very awkward Marcus. I finally figured the extra shots he has the easier it is for him to talk to people. I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about him and sometimes I still don’t but one thing he proved today.. He does’t stray away from a good debate and chat when he is passionate about something, which happens to be the rebels this time around…. guess we will see how that goes. He offered me shelter in there, nice gesture but I assume he has figured something is not quite right with me… and he’s right, but how much longer can I skirt around the issue.

Later that night, working with Tris it happened. He walked in the door. The thing of my nightmares and what I thought might have been my overactive imagination. Though, from the beginning everything seemed fine, other than the fact he as wearing a formal suit. Hey some people like to be fancy, which wasn’t an issue but the way he kept staring at me was. A few compliments here, and offer of drinks we had on tap and all was fine. Poor Kim came in after a long night at the diner and had no idea either. Now one would think, if you were walking around town bragging about just getting back you should be able to afford a mere twenty five dollars for water. However he didn’t. Before I knew it, he snapped and jumped over the bar right in my face. Had be pinned by the throat as he squeezed and moved in inhaling my scent.

Normally, I wouldn’t have minded him just ending it there. However there were customers…. I was curious about these rebels but more important I had proof I wasn’t going insane. I was actually being followed and taunted an it hit a boiling point tonight. Still, I don’t know him… He called himself Francesco but I call him nightmare in a suit. My own personal demon. Lucky for me Charlie finally woke up and Tris is one scary gal with a shotgun pointed in his face. So I can tell you dearest journal my story.

As I sit atop this floating crate looking over the city, I am starting to notice that it isn’t always the infected that you have to worry about.  They aren’t the most dangerous ones… it’s the people of this island… this town.. this city… my own personal hell. They way he looked at me on the way out of the bar lets me know one thing. A. He WILL be back one way or another. He said it himself. “fuck I love red heads, I’ll be back tomorrow”  B. I am in for a bumpy ride if I don’t get help from someone…

Normally, I wouldn’t mind a adventure but this one could very well be my last one….

Until next time Journal,

~A