One year ago I started this blog to get my story out there, to see if Catherine would see it and come back. I'm no closer to the truth. The cops aren't, we aren't. Yet I get this strange, ominous feeling of doom, and I can't explain it. It's like that feeling you get on a cold, winter night, when the chill is getting into your bones and the wind is outside rustling the bare tree branches.
I haven't had any dreams at all. Strange.
Something is coming.
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