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I continued walking through desert biomes, swamps, snow, forests, and plains. From the rise of the sun all the way towards the fall of it. I had kept walking and walking and walking. It was only yesterday that I ran out of food. And I can't seem to find any mobs near me, not even the hostile mobs dare come near so I couldn't feed on the rotten flesh of the zombies. But I kept walking. Trying to ignore my problems. (A/N: Please seek a therapist or try to get help if you're depressed / relate to any of what I'm typing.)

I had just finished walking through a desert biome. The heat was quite overwhelming from the past few days in there and nights were not as cold as the snow but still up there. I walk to the nearest tree from the entrance of a dark oak forest and sat down. I look at my communicator and started writing

XX/XX/XXXX

I've just finished traveling through the horrid desert. It was painful but, hey, I made it through. Yesterday was the last of my food supply. How long did it last? 4 months? To be honest, I don't know anymore. It's been... XX/XX → XX/XX       XX+XX = XX     XX+XX=XX XX+XX+XX+XX+XX+XX=...(X(XX)) + (X(XX)) = XXX... XXX days, huh. It lasted pretty long and XX/XX is when I left and XX/XX is now... That means I'll...

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I stopped writing. I know that I wouldn't be able to do anything about my hunger... I feel the tears well up again. I know for a fact that no one is this far out from the SMP. Not even the one and only human GPS, Technoblade, knows where I am. I began shaking thinking about the fact that I will die alone in the lands of this SMP. Body: not found (pun not intended), Death: Starvation, Place of death: Unknown, last seen: Leaving L'manburg, Spawn set: false.

I began hyperventilating the more I kept thinking about the subject. The voices had awoken from my panic attack. They're wailing isn't helping my situation one bit. In fact the opposite. I look back down at the book on my lap picking up the feathered pen and began writing with blurry vision and continued, not giving a single care to the already written sentence.

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The thought of dying alone had activated a panic attack that awoken the voices once again. In hopes to calm them down again, I will be documenting their current activity...

It seems that the voices have taken notice of my current activity, writing, it had always intrigue them to see something simple as a feather and ink with knowledge of literature can write down all these characters that form a story or as they call it, a piece of art. They aren't illiterate, they know what I've been writing and know that I've been documenting their activities. A form of an autobiography about them intrigues them to no end and wants to know more of how I see them and how they can change themselves to their liking of image. 

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I have been sitting here for what feels to be an hour now and...I've certainly calmed myself of my own problem and it seems that the voices are satisfied and gone back to sleep. This shall be the end of this documentary.

 -Dream

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I closed the book and put it back in my bag before getting up and looking at my hunger bar. 7 and a half bars left. If I want it to last longer, I have to walk, but if I want to get through this forest fast, then I must run. I chose to walk, thinking I might be able to find food through the forest. I head in. You must be wondering, "Where am I going to?" you may wonder, I don't have an actual goal in mind. I'm just so used to just wander around the SMP and staying in the community house. So as soon as I left, I had no specific area in mind that I wanted to head to, I just kept going until my instinct told me to stop. To tell me that I've gone far enough. To tell me that I was safe... as I kept walking through this forest, weaving and dodging past the trees I felt as if time slowed down. I sprinted to see if I do have slowness. It went slower than usual. I checked my status to see if there were any effects on me. There were none. I was confused. My hunger bar was going down the same speed as if I were running. I panicked as I saw it dropped to 1 bar. then half. then zero.

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I started to feel pain in my stomach. I clutched it and fell down to my knees hugging my abdomen as if I've gotten kicked there. My hearts dropped quick. I don't know if it was the adrenaline that made it looked like that or it was reality...

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Half a heart.

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zero

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<server>: Dream has starved to death...

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Everyone saw that message. But one certain individual had been the most affected by the message.

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OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~ what's gonna happen next???

haha Next chapter will be on the weekend....hopefully :)

865 words

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