I heard her say go, but I didn’t hear her say stop. When I looked back, she was like a statue, with no actions, just standing, standing beside the old elm tree. I’m pretty sure that this is totally not good. I walked toward her, and touched her arm. It was so cold and hard, like a piece of metal. I looked at her for about two minutes, but she didn’t move—not even breathing, there is no heartbeat coming from her chest. I was taut, and wanted to tell the others in the village, but I saw the village was in a lifeless silence. I knew this is not good, but I still got to get back to the village.

We (me and Eva) were trying to examine how long I can run in a minute. I wanted to use my stopwatch which I bought from the travelling merchant two days ago. But weird things happened after I began running; actually, it happened after I pressed the button on the watch. However, I didn’t realize it after I arrived at the village.

I didn’t know what happened, but I had to figure it out. I ran toward the village, hoping my friends were all sleeping—but I was wrong, I was totally wrong—and I knew it. They were like statues, just like she was. I looked at the sky, and found out the defoliation were paused in the air. I made an assumption—the time has stopped. Why did the time stopped? I tried to make myself calm, and think about the reason. However, it didn’t work. I couldn’t make myself stop gasping, and tears rolled off my face. “Wait, the vintage stopwatch—when I press the button, the time stopped!” I suddenly (actually finally) understood, “If I could press it again, the time will go on!” I reached to my pocket, trembling, but I didn’t find it. I was scared, and tried all my pockets—it wasn’t in my pocket! I couldn’t believe it, I ran toward the old elm, but my right foot stepped on my left foot, and I fell down. My knees were covered with blood and dirt. I didn’t have time to feel about the pain, I had to find my watch. Finally, I found it beside the old elm. I trembled to pick it up, and pressed down the button, hoping that something would happen—but nothing changed. I pushed it again and again, but the scene in my eyes was still like what it was two minutes ago.

Well, I’m still stuck inside the time rift, and writing about maybe my last diary. It has been a long time inside, maybe years—but I don’t know without the sun. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make the time keep flowing. My assumption might be wrong at the first time. I know I’m dying, so I wanted to write the last passage about what happened. Goodbye, my friends.