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Dear Diary,
I- I- I'M ALIVE. But in a basement. On an air matress. And it's dark. And cramped. And yucky. The door's locked, of course. But I have an idea. Maybe, just maybe, there's a spare key around here somewhere. It's a long shot, but it's worth a try. Maybe. Erm- hold on. Storm's coming in right now.
So he just left. He brough me some food. A steak, of all things. He knows that's my favorite. I think he actually believes that keeping me down here is going to make me love him again. MORON! Oh hey. This food ain't to bad... No, I can't. It might be, like, poisoned or something.
I'm looking for a key now. There's nothing in the desk, nothing at all. Nothing under the covers on the bed, the pillow, maybe under the bed. Let's look. AHA. STORM, YOU IDIOT. NEVER PUT THE KEY IN THE ROOM WITH A GENIUS. Um. Found it. Ha, we're breaking out of here.
Sincerley, Gabby
(P.S. Now I'll have Emmett and Storm on my trail. I'm just bringing in all kinds of people, huh?)