Dale's Diary

Feb 20th Today is Thursday. I know this is going to sound crazy but I have to write this all down. No matter what anyone says or what anyone might think of me after reading this, this is what honestly happened. I can't explain it but it's the truth. And it's why I am responsible for Diana's and Meaghan's deaths. But it wasn't supposed to be this way, it wasn't. I swear. Back on that fateful day, last Friday, when I entered this strange new world of grief, guilt and madness, Diana, Meaghan and I did go to that park. And for a while, everything was nice. And while Meaghan was playing in the playground just a little ways away, I finally got the nerve to tell Diana the truth and ask, no beg, for her forgiveness. And like everything else in my life these last few months, it didn't go well at all. Diana was furious with me, especially when I told her who those guys were at the house a few days ago. She kept yelling about "Putting her and Meaghan in danger" and how I had ruined their lives. And then she told me she was planning on divorcing me, and had been for a while now. I was devastated and lost all desire and nerve to even try any longer. After a tense and silent drive back home, I watched as Diana packed up her and Meaghan's things. And as they drove away, I decided to kill myself. The gun I had bought for protection was now calling me for a different, more sinister purpose. I don't actually recall exactly how I got there, but the next thing I knew I was in my study, with the cold barrel of the gun pressed against the side of my head. Literally convulsing with tears, I said goodbye to Diana and Meaghan and to this world and I pulled the trigger. As I opened my eyes, I saw the dim face of an old man through the smoke of the gun's discharge. His hand had pushed away the gun just as I pulled the trigger. In stunned silence and disbelief, I sat there as he leaned in a little closer and said,"Now why would you be wanting to do something like that, lad? It's a good thing I was here, eh?" Time seemed to stand still as he spoke. "Now listen carefully, there isn't much time. I am here to give you one wish, whatever you want, but you must make it now, without pause." "Who are you?" I asked, "I don't understand." "I don't really have a name like you are thinking of," the strange man said, "But you may call me 'the Wish' if it makes you feel better. You won't be remembering any of this anyway. That's all part of the deal, rules and all that you know. You get one wish, once in your lifetime, only you don't get to choose when it happens or take more than a few moments to think about it. And, as soon as you make it, you will forget everything about me and your wish. But it will come very, very true. Now laddie, what are you wishing for then?" I stammered out something like "But I . . . " "Listen Dale me boy, time's a wastin'. I can only appear to you for a small bit of time. If you don't choose right now, everything goes back to how it was before I moved your hand, and your tiny brains will be landing on the wall over there for your lovely wife and daughter to find. So what'll it be?" Not knowing what was truly happening, I said, "OK, OK, I need money. I mean, I wish for money, more money than I can get a chance to spend. Then Diana and Meaghan will never have to know I have lied to them and put them in danger like this. I don't want them to know the truth and wish none of this had ever happened." "Well laddie, that sounds technically like more than one wish, but I will see what I can do. Now, say goodnight. You'll be waking up soon with no recollection of me or your wish, but things will be coming true soon. Goodbye Dale." And then, I woke up. In a hospital bed. There was a nurse standing over me saying, ""Now, now, relax. You are going to be just fine. Try not to move too much. There, there." She called for a doctor as she turned to walk away quickly through a door. As she did, a man in a suit rushed in and over to my side. He said rather frantically, "Thank God you're awake Dale! They were supposed to tell me as soon as you woke up." It was Bruce, my long-time friend and former partner. I tried to speak but could barely manage something like, "What the . . . ? Where . . . ?" "Listen," Bruce interrupted me, "Don't worry about anything. After what happened, the insurance company will be anxious to settle this and put it all behind them. Everything will be taken care of. You don't have to worry about anything." Still trying to make sense of what was happening, I said, "Diana, Meaghan, . . . he said they . . . thank god it's going to be OK. Can I see them?" Bruce's face went absolutely white. "What the hell !?!" He said, turning to two people entering the room, "Didn't you tell him?" Before they could reply he turned back to me and said, "I'm sorry Dale. I thought you already knew. You've been in a terrible accident. Diana and Meaghan didn't make it. I'm sorry." "What do you mean, an accident?" I said. "Apparently you were driving Friday afternoon, heading home from somewhere, and there was a truck. Well, something happened Dale. No one is sure of the details yet. But Diana and Meaghan were killed instantly and you were the only survivor. I'm sorry." My head was spinning. "You don't understand," I said, "We weren't driving anywhere together. Not after we came home from that park in the afternoon. I was home alone after Diana and Meaghan left in the early evening, around 6:00 or so." "That's impossible, Dale," Bruce said, "The accident happened at 4:30 in the afternoon."

Feb 19th Today is Wednesday. I can't believe they are gone. Or is this a dream? I'm really not sure anymore. Bruce and others are calling, including Diana's parents, asking if I need anything or what they can do for me. I'm not sure what I have said to them; it seems like a dream somehow. Bruce said he's been sending e-mails, etc but I haven't been checking for them, on any of my accounts. It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm trying to get my mind around some things I remember, things that don't make sense with what I've been told happened. Things that don't honestly make sense at all. But with every passing hour, I am more and more convinced I am right.

Feb 18th Today is Tuesday. I don't know what to write here. I don't even know why I am writing this at all. Something terrible has happened. Something unthinkable and unbelievable. I just came home from the hospital where I had been since Friday. Diana and Meaghan are both dead. And it's all my fault. It wasn't supposed to be this way though. He said I wouldn't remember. It all happened so fast, I can't remember the details, and what was real and what was not. In fact I really believe I may be completely mad now. None of this makes sense. Diana. Meaghan.

Feb 17th Today is Monday.

Feb 16th Today is Sunday.

Feb 15th Today is Sunday.

Feb 14th Today is Friday. Since the weather is fairly nice today and it is Valentine's Day, I decided today was the day and asked Diana to go with me to that little amusement park today. Meaghan can play on some of the small playground things and go on some kiddie rides and I'll find someway to finally get honest with Diana. it's not going to be easy, but it needs to be done. I am out of time. we're leaving any minute. Wish me luck.

Feb 13th Today is Thursday. I've decided that I have to tell Diana the truth about everything. I think I haven't been giving her enough credit. If she's the women I fell in love with and married, she'll stand beside me and try to understand and help. And although I can never forgive myself for deceiving her, maybe she can find it in her heart to forgive me and give me another chance. Once that's done, we can deal with Synthasia's and our personal financial situation and I'll go to the police if I have to, to get those bastards off my back. I won't let them threaten my family any more.

Feb 12th Today is Wednesday.

Feb 11th Today is Tuesday. When I came home today Meaghan was in the front yard with Diana and two of the three brothers who have been threatening me. When I saw them there, talking to my family I went into a blind rage. One of the bastards was actually touching Meaghan's hair! I flew out of my car and thought about where my gun was inside but Diana cut me off and said something about these "guys" here to talk about a website or something. Thank God she and Meaghan went inside right after that. I began screaming at the bastards but quickly began to calm down as I realized the situation I was in, what with Diana and Meaghan so close by. The brothers actually laughed at me and one of them said, "Maybe we'll start with your pretty little girl." I must do something.

Feb 10th Today is Monday.

Feb 9th Today is Sunday. Diana and Meaghan came home today, thank God. All Diana would say to me was that she couldn't keep Meaghan away from her father. Whatever the reason I am sincerely grateful and am going to try and work things out. I have to.

Feb 8th Today is Saturday.

Feb 7th Today is Friday. I haven't slept in days. I tried to call Diana today but her mother wouldn't let me speak to her. Not even to Meaghan. I can't go on.

Feb 6th Today is Thursday. I'm thinking Diana and Meaghan would be better off without me. Maybe, just maybe, I need to do something to end this.

Feb 5th Today is Wednesday. I went home and Diana and Meaghan were gone. I was scared to death at first until I found the note Diana left me, saying she decided to visit her mother for a few days, that she needed to get away from me for a while. I'm afraid she may not be coming back.

Feb 4th Today is Tuesday.

Feb 3rd Today is Monday. Bruce stopped by my office in Camden today. He said he was "just in the area" but that's quite a drive from his offices in the City. I'm pretty sure my bruises were pretty apparent to him but he didn't say anything about them. Come to think of it, he didn't even seem surprised by them when he first saw me. He literally begged me to come back to anonymousfame. And offered me some good money. I told him I would think about it. Unfortunately, even if I did, it would be quite a while before I could pay my "creditors" back, even if I put every cent into it, which of course, I couldn't do. I wish I could bring myself to ask Bruce for a large loan but I just can't do that. It would mean revealing everything and that's something I just can't do.

Feb 2nd Today is Sunday. Well so much for hoping for the weather to improve. It's colder than ever today. I guess I might as well wish for my life to get better too; it would have the same effect. I bought a gun today.

Feb 1st Today is Saturday. I haven't been home in two days. I didn't want Diana to see me after what those thugs did to me. Not that a few bruises or the pain really matters to me anymore, but the damn bastards threatened Diana and Meaghan. I don't know what I am going to do. They have given me two weeks, not a day longer, to come up with the money I owe them. They also told me I shouldn't even try to call the old man like I did before; he doesn't even want to talk to me anymore. It would only make things worse, they said. As if they could get any worse. So I've spent the last two days hiding at my office, telling Diana I had to work. I know she doesn't believe me but it's almost as if she doesn't even care to know the truth anymore. How the hell did I let this all go so far? I know that, no matter what, she deserves better. I need to find the strength somehow to tell her the truth but I need to get my head together first. I can't seem to think clearly here no matter what I do; if only it hadn't gotten so damn cold outside already. Maybe tomorrow will be a nicer day. I guess I should try and sleep but I've been having the strangest dreams. Just my damn guilty conscience I guess.

Jan 31st Today is Friday.

Jan 30th Today is Thursday.

Jan 29th Today is Wednesday. Diana is barely speaking to me, I have to find a way to make things better soon. Those bastards left another threatening voice mail for me again. I really tempted to just turn over the recording to the police or something but that would mean exposing everything and I don't know if I can do that. I have to do something very soon though. Meaghan said she saw some strange men hanging around outside the house. I'm pretty sure it was my "creditors." I swear I'll kill them if they try and touch either her or Diana.

Jan 28th Today is Tuesday.

Jan 27th Today is Monday. Well, I guess I should have expected it but Diana's not even talking to me. When Meaghan and I were alone for a few minutes she said "Mommy" had been crying all day. I don't know what to do anymore.

Jan 26th Today is Sunday. I found this strange little place today called Ash Grove Park. It's not really too far from here but off of some back roads I had never taken before. I had gone out for a drive after Diana and I had a terrible fight. I was hoping to share a nice Sunday with Diana and Meaghan, you know, just enjoying being a family. I know it's all my fault but we don't feel like much of a family lately. I've had to put entirely too much time into trying to make a go of my business, yeah, the one that was supposed to provide me all the freedom to do what I really wanted. And then on top of that, the lies I've been forced to tell Diana have just made things even worse. She's grown cold and distant lately, as if she senses the deceit I've put between us. Her questions have grown more and more frequent about the business and how it's doing, stuff she was never concerned with before. And she started up about that again this morning. Meaghan was off playing somewhere and she mentioned that she had talked to Bruce again and he was really concerned about me. I tried to pass it off as him just really wanting me to come back to anonymousfame but I could tell she didn't believe me, at least not entirely. She was holding something back, as if she either knew more than she was letting on or was afraid to cross that line from which she knew there would be no coming back. She went on to act as if nothing had happened but it ruined everything for me and I guess my guilt and all the pressure got the best of me. I ended up yelling at her and Meghan, leaving both of them in tears as I fled out the door. What am I becoming? Anyway, this place was a quiet little amusement park, not very crowded, I guess because of the somewhat cool weather. Still there were a few people taking advantage of the sunny Winter day but I managed to ignore them all as I walked lost in thought through the place. I was so pre-occupied that I really didn't pay it too much attention but it did give me an idea; maybe if I take Diana and Meaghan there, we can have a fun little "family" day again. You know, get us back on the right foot. I'm going to try and plan something soon.

Jan 25th Today is Saturday. Six months after I started synthasia.com I knew that it was a hole that was sucking me in. My earlier passion and enthusiasm had been replaced with the reality of a bad economy and shrinking advertising budgets. A few of the large companies that had promised to come with me to my new firm backed out of their commitments suddenly and traditional financing sources dried up completely with the after effects of Sept 11th and the worsening stock and investment markets. No matter what though, I could not bring myself to admit my mistake, to either my wife or friends, or even, tragically to myself. With my personal finances nearing depletion from trying to carry the struggling business and no sources of legitimate funding available to me any longer, I sought out some other alternatives. I've always been good at finding "alternatives" to societies norms and have always had a predilection and fascination with the fringe and rogue elements of our culture. As luck would have it, someone I had met through my work at anonymousfame was able to "help" me out and arranged for me to receive some loans from a less-than-reputable source. There was absolutely no question in my mind when I did it that I would be able to pay them back. After all, I had all these great ideas and was on the verge of writing this soon-to-be bestseller novel. What was there to worry about?

Jan 24th Today is Friday.

Jan 23rd Today is Thursday. Diana is asking questions about Synthasia and I've run out of lies to tell her. It's only a matter of time until she finds out the truth. She told me today that Bruce had called her, asking if she would talk to me about coming back to anonymousfame. He told her he had heard through some sources that things weren't going well and was concerned. She was very mad at me when I refused to even discuss it with her. I didn't even know where to begin and she was in no mood to here my pathetic half-truths and insincere assurances. How could this have all gone so terribly wrong?

Jan 22nd Today is Wednesday. After a couple of years at anonymousfame, it looked clearly like Bruce [that's Bruce Abbott, long time friend and ex-college roommate] and I had finally hit upon the right formula. Thanks to a few important and influential clients having dramatic success as a result of our work, the cash was rolling in and we had quite a backlog of potential clients seeking our services. Diana was thrilled with our success and the things it was able to provide for us and our daughter - the new house, nice BMWs, exclusive school for Meaghan - and the lifestyle it afforded her. And yet, despite all of that, I was still empty and unhappy inside. Although many industry critics praised my concepts and campaigns as "brilliant" and "revolutionary" I still felt like a prostitute, selling my creative skills to the highest bidder. This wasn't the art I felt I was born to create and left me disillusioned and hollow. And it struck me that maybe, just maybe, this was at last my chance to be truly happy and fulfilled, to chase that elusive dream I had been pursuing since some wondrous book in my childhood filled me with appreciation for the power of the human imagination and gave me a desire to entertain, educate and enthrall others. At last, with somewhat of a solid foundation beneath my feet, I could finally truly reach for the stars above my head, by writing that masterpiece that had been building inside me my entire life. But anonymousfame left me no time for writing or other creative pursuits. The demands of partnering a successful business were extraordinary, compounded by the society lifestyle my wife wanted to enjoy. And so, a little over a year ago, despite the vociferous and strenuous objections of my wife, partner and almost all of my friends, I left our successful company to start my own business. I thought if I could only dictate my own schedule and set my own priorities, I could find ways to work on achieving my secret dream and find the happiness that had so long eluded me. And so I started a smaller and more manageable version (or so I thought) of anonymousfame, a marketing consulting and web design firm I called synthasia.com. I'd always been fascinated by computers and the power of multimedia presentation and had recently taught myself web development and design. I did everything I thought I needed to, to ensure that the new company would be successful - secured financing, lined up some profitable accounts, developed some good ideas and concepts to sell. And for a short while, everything seemed fine.

Jan 21st Today is Tuesday.

Jan 20th Today is Monday. I've managed to buy myself a little time but it can't last for long. I've stopped paying the regular creditors a while ago, and the collection agencies and other vultures are just starting to descend. But it's my "alternative" financial backers that I'm much more worried about. They are rapidly losing their patience. Two of them paid me a vist yesterday. Thank God Diana and Meaghan weren't home. Luckily, they agreed to give me a little more time, but that can't last forever. I must figure out something soon. God, I wish I could turn back time.

Jan 19th Today is Sunday.

Jan 18th Today is Saturday. A few years ago I thought life couldn't get any better. Or at least part of me felt that way. At the age of 32, I was partners in a successful marketing/advertising firm that I had started with a longtime friend and making more money then I ever dreamed possible. Oh sure, I've had crazy fantasies about writing that next great American novel that would bring me wealth and fame, but I never could actually get past starting it. I'm a great one for starting things; it's carrying them out to their conclusion that has always eluded me. So having something I had a hand in starting actually succeed was a new experience for me. The company was still fairly young so I wasn't actually rich yet or anything, but everything certainly seemed lined up to insure that I could provide more than comfortably for my wife and daughter. Since I married my dream girl a few years ago, I've done my best to be responsible and provide her everything she could possibly want, even though that wasn't always the easiest thing to do. I've always been kind of a free spirit, with a lot more potential than actual drive to be successful, at least by most people's measures of success. For seven long years after college I struggled with my insecurites and self-doubt. No, strike that, it's really been all my life. I have dreamed of becoming a serious writer since I was a boy and never truly wanted to do anything else with my life. But this world has a way of taking all your illusions away. My problem was, as the poet Robert Bly once observed, there are people who want to be a writer, and there are people who want to write. I was never sure which I was. I did, in fact, desperately want to write; I just couldn't. It was if my years of voluminous reading and hours of deep philosophical thinking had humbled me into creative silence. I had a writing block the size of Gibraltar. So I did what all wannabe writers do - I read and read and read while working whatever menial jobs I had to put a roof over my head and food in my belly. While I worked away the years, painting walls or writing advertising copy, I worked endlessly in my mind trying to assemble all the strange and wonderful ideas fermenting there into that one great story I knew it could be. And I started that story hundreds of times with the passion of a convert to a new religion. Time after time, however, the act of actually putting it all on paper seemed overwhelming, and eventually I sank down on my couch, picked up a book, and eagerly disappeared down the rabbit hole of another writer's work. During those dark days, I read well over a thousand books, some of them again and again, taking page after page of notes, cross-referencing them in large notebooks, desperately seeking those hidden words that would make the world make sense to me. I was a walking dilemma, frustrated by my lack of progress or success but somehow proud of my rebellion against the traditional "working world" I had vowed never to be a part of. I reveled in my "artistic" and independent lifestyle and grew to accept my frequent descents into depression and melancholia. It was worth it, I told myself, all part of the creative struggle. And then I met my future wife and everything changed. It wasn't until I met and married Diana that suddenly the more material forms of success seemed to begin mattering to me. She's actually the main reason I took an old friend up on his offer to start a business up in the first place.

Jan 17th Today is Friday. I need to put down exactly how this all happened, how I got myself into this terribly tragic dilemma, and how I'm on the verge of losing everything I love in this world. If I put down all the pieces, maybe then the solution will become visible to me. God knows I have nothing to lose at this point.

Jan 16th Today is Thursday. Things are worse than I thought and I may not have the time to even complete this like I intended. Time has been my enemy as long as I can remember, but especially in the last few years. I always feel as if I'm running out of time, like there isn't enough time to do everything I want and have to do in my life. And so I hurry here and there, trying to save minutes but it's never enough, no matter what. There's never enough time. Since my days in college, when I took a second shift job to help pay for my education, I've gotten by on only four or five hours of sleep, like some character right out of a Greek tragedy, relentlessly driven by some unknown yet pre-ordained fate. I've come to understand this as one of my great obstacles in life, my own rock to roll uphill. It compels me to believe I need to steal time, borrow moments, stretch my hours, dilate my days, whenever and wherever possible. Because of this, I often feel as if I have already led several lives. But still the dragon of doubt breathes down my neck, reminding me that life is too short to be merely marking time. What am I waiting for?

Jan 15th Today is Wednesday. My name is Dale and I feel really funny writing this. I've never been one to keep a journal or a diary, even though I've wanted to be a serious author/writer all my life. It seems my whole life I've always wanted to be something other than what I am forced to be. You see, I've always had a problem being happy. No matter what I accomplish or accumulate, it's never either enough or somehow, just not quite right. I sometimes feel as if someone is writing the story of my life, some cruel and twisted author who delights in teasing me (his main character) with grand thoughts and visions of how this world and my life should be, only to have everything I do fall short, in one way or another. Recently, my life has literally become a Hell, a nightmare that all my plans and effort seem useless to overcome. It's funny how ideas that seem so right and so sure one day can turn around so absolutely in a short time. A short while ago you would have looked at my life and thought I had everything a man could want. But it's all crumbling around me, like a poorly written plot whose inconsistencies and dead ends have finally caught up with it. But for some strange reason, I just can't give up hope. There's just too much to lose and too many people I deeply care about it who will be devastated if the truth comes out. I keep thinking if I can just put it all down on paper, see it all laid out before me, that I'll be able to make some sense of it and save myself before it truly is too late. That's why I'm writing this diary. In all likelihood, no one but me will ever read this and I'm certain very few people could even relate to anything I've written or plan to write. Maybe it's just one more straw I'm grasping at, one thread-like lifeline to grab for as my head slowly descends below the surface of the quicksand of my life. But, here it is, a New Year. Diana is off putting Meaghan to bed and will probably fall asleep on the bed with her. The way we've been fighting lately, it's almost as if she feels more comfortable in our daughter's bed. Feb 20th Today is Thursday. I know this is going to sound crazy but I have to write this all down. No matter what anyone says or what anyone might think of me after reading this, this is what honestly happened. I can't explain it but it's the truth. And it's why I am responsible for Diana's and Meaghan's deaths. But it wasn't supposed to be this way, it wasn't. I swear. Back on that fateful day, last Friday, when I entered this strange new world of grief, guilt and madness, Diana, Meaghan and I did go to that park. And for a while, everything was nice. And while Meaghan was playing in the playground just a little ways away, I finally got the nerve to tell Diana the truth and ask, no beg, for her forgiveness. And like everything else in my life these last few months, it didn't go well at all. Diana was furious with me, especially when I told her who those guys were at the house a few days ago. She kept yelling about "Putting her and Meaghan in danger" and how I had ruined their lives. And then she told me she was planning on divorcing me, and had been for a while now. I was devastated and lost all desire and nerve to even try any longer. After a tense and silent drive back home, I watched as Diana packed up her and Meaghan's things. And as they drove away, I decided to kill myself. The gun I had bought for protection was now calling me for a different, more sinister purpose. I don't actually recall exactly how I got there, but the next thing I knew I was in my study, with the cold barrel of the gun pressed against the side of my head. Literally convulsing with tears, I said goodbye to Diana and Meaghan and to this world and I pulled the trigger. As I opened my eyes, I saw the dim face of an old man through the smoke of the gun's discharge. His hand had pushed away the gun just as I pulled the trigger. In stunned silence and disbelief, I sat there as he leaned in a little closer and said,"Now why would you be wanting to do something like that, lad? It's a good thing I was here, eh?" Time seemed to stand still as he spoke. "Now listen carefully, there isn't much time. I am here to give you one wish, whatever you want, but you must make it now, without pause." "Who are you?" I asked, "I don't understand." "I don't really have a name like you are thinking of," the strange man said, "But you may call me 'the Wish' if it makes you feel better. You won't be remembering any of this anyway. That's all part of the deal, rules and all that you know. You get one wish, once in your lifetime, only you don't get to choose when it happens or take more than a few moments to think about it. And, as soon as you make it, you will forget everything about me and your wish. But it will come very, very true. Now laddie, what are you wishing for then?" I stammered out something like "But I . . . " "Listen Dale me boy, time's a wastin'. I can only appear to you for a small bit of time. If you don't choose right now, everything goes back to how it was before I moved your hand, and your tiny brains will be landing on the wall over there for your lovely wife and daughter to find. So what'll it be?" Not knowing what was truly happening, I said, "OK, OK, I need money. I mean, I wish for money, more money than I can get a chance to spend. Then Diana and Meaghan will never have to know I have lied to them and put them in danger like this. I don't want them to know the truth and wish none of this had ever happened." "Well laddie, that sounds technically like more than one wish, but I will see what I can do. Now, say goodnight. You'll be waking up soon with no recollection of me or your wish, but things will be coming true soon. Goodbye Dale." And then, I woke up. In a hospital bed. There was a nurse standing over me saying, ""Now, now, relax. You are going to be just fine. Try not to move too much. There, there." She called for a doctor as she turned to walk away quickly through a door. As she did, a man in a suit rushed in and over to my side. He said rather frantically, "Thank God you're awake Dale! They were supposed to tell me as soon as you woke up." It was Bruce, my long-time friend and former partner. I tried to speak but could barely manage something like, "What the . . . ? Where . . . ?" "Listen," Bruce interrupted me, "Don't worry about anything. After what happened, the insurance company will be anxious to settle this and put it all behind them. Everything will be taken care of. You don't have to worry about anything." Still trying to make sense of what was happening, I said, "Diana, Meaghan, . . . he said they . . . thank god it's going to be OK. Can I see them?" Bruce's face went absolutely white. "What the hell !?!" He said, turning to two people entering the room, "Didn't you tell him?" Before they could reply he turned back to me and said, "I'm sorry Dale. I thought you already knew. You've been in a terrible accident. Diana and Meaghan didn't make it. I'm sorry." "What do you mean, an accident?" I said. "Apparently you were driving Friday afternoon, heading home from somewhere, and there was a truck. Well, something happened Dale. No one is sure of the details yet. But Diana and Meaghan were killed instantly and you were the only survivor. I'm sorry." My head was spinning. "You don't understand," I said, "We weren't driving anywhere together. Not after we came home from that park in the afternoon. I was home alone after Diana and Meaghan left in the early evening, around 6:00 or so." "That's impossible, Dale," Bruce said, "The accident happened at 4:30 in the afternoon."

Feb 19th Today is Wednesday. I can't believe they are gone. Or is this a dream? I'm really not sure anymore. Bruce and others are calling, including Diana's parents, asking if I need anything or what they can do for me. I'm not sure what I have said to them; it seems like a dream somehow. Bruce said he's been sending e-mails, etc but I haven't been checking for them, on any of my accounts. It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm trying to get my mind around some things I remember, things that don't make sense with what I've been told happened. Things that don't honestly make sense at all. But with every passing hour, I am more and more convinced I am right.

Feb 18th Today is Tuesday. I don't know what to write here. I don't even know why I am writing this at all. Something terrible has happened. Something unthinkable and unbelievable. I just came home from the hospital where I had been since Friday. Diana and Meaghan are both dead. And it's all my fault. It wasn't supposed to be this way though. He said I wouldn't remember. It all happened so fast, I can't remember the details, and what was real and what was not. In fact I really believe I may be completely mad now. None of this makes sense. Diana. Meaghan.

Feb 17th Today is Monday.

Feb 16th Today is Sunday.

Feb 15th Today is Sunday.

Feb 14th Today is Friday. Since the weather is fairly nice today and it is Valentine's Day, I decided today was the day and asked Diana to go with me to that little amusement park today. Meaghan can play on some of the small playground things and go on some kiddie rides and I'll find someway to finally get honest with Diana. it's not going to be easy, but it needs to be done. I am out of time. we're leaving any minute. Wish me luck.

Feb 13th Today is Thursday. I've decided that I have to tell Diana the truth about everything. I think I haven't been giving her enough credit. If she's the women I fell in love with and married, she'll stand beside me and try to understand and help. And although I can never forgive myself for deceiving her, maybe she can find it in her heart to forgive me and give me another chance. Once that's done, we can deal with Synthasia's and our personal financial situation and I'll go to the police if I have to, to get those bastards off my back. I won't let them threaten my family any more.

Feb 12th Today is Wednesday.

Feb 11th Today is Tuesday. When I came home today Meaghan was in the front yard with Diana and two of the three brothers who have been threatening me. When I saw them there, talking to my family I went into a blind rage. One of the bastards was actually touching Meaghan's hair! I flew out of my car and thought about where my gun was inside but Diana cut me off and said something about these "guys" here to talk about a website or something. Thank God she and Meaghan went inside right after that. I began screaming at the bastards but quickly began to calm down as I realized the situation I was in, what with Diana and Meaghan so close by. The brothers actually laughed at me and one of them said, "Maybe we'll start with your pretty little girl." I must do something.

Feb 10th Today is Monday.

Feb 9th Today is Sunday. Diana and Meaghan came home today, thank God. All Diana would say to me was that she couldn't keep Meaghan away from her father. Whatever the reason I am sincerely grateful and am going to try and work things out. I have to.

Feb 8th Today is Saturday.

Feb 7th Today is Friday. I haven't slept in days. I tried to call Diana today but her mother wouldn't let me speak to her. Not even to Meaghan. I can't go on.

Feb 6th Today is Thursday. I'm thinking Diana and Meaghan would be better off without me. Maybe, just maybe, I need to do something to end this.

Feb 5th Today is Wednesday. I went home and Diana and Meaghan were gone. I was scared to death at first until I found the note Diana left me, saying she decided to visit her mother for a few days, that she needed to get away from me for a while. I'm afraid she may not be coming back.

Feb 4th Today is Tuesday.

Feb 3rd Today is Monday. Bruce stopped by my office in Camden today. He said he was "just in the area" but that's quite a drive from his offices in the City. I'm pretty sure my bruises were pretty apparent to him but he didn't say anything about them. Come to think of it, he didn't even seem surprised by them when he first saw me. He literally begged me to come back to anonymousfame. And offered me some good money. I told him I would think about it. Unfortunately, even if I did, it would be quite a while before I could pay my "creditors" back, even if I put every cent into it, which of course, I couldn't do. I wish I could bring myself to ask Bruce for a large loan but I just can't do that. It would mean revealing everything and that's something I just can't do.

Feb 2nd Today is Sunday. Well so much for hoping for the weather to improve. It's colder than ever today. I guess I might as well wish for my life to get better too; it would have the same effect. I bought a gun today.

Feb 1st Today is Saturday. I haven't been home in two days. I didn't want Diana to see me after what those thugs did to me. Not that a few bruises or the pain really matters to me anymore, but the damn bastards threatened Diana and Meaghan. I don't know what I am going to do. They have given me two weeks, not a day longer, to come up with the money I owe them. They also told me I shouldn't even try to call the old man like I did before; he doesn't even want to talk to me anymore. It would only make things worse, they said. As if they could get any worse. So I've spent the last two days hiding at my office, telling Diana I had to work. I know she doesn't believe me but it's almost as if she doesn't even care to know the truth anymore. How the hell did I let this all go so far? I know that, no matter what, she deserves better. I need to find the strength somehow to tell her the truth but I need to get my head together first. I can't seem to think clearly here no matter what I do; if only it hadn't gotten so damn cold outside already. Maybe tomorrow will be a nicer day. I guess I should try and sleep but I've been having the strangest dreams. Just my damn guilty conscience I guess.

Jan 31st Today is Friday.

Jan 30th Today is Thursday.

Jan 29th Today is Wednesday. Diana is barely speaking to me, I have to find a way to make things better soon. Those bastards left another threatening voice mail for me again. I really tempted to just turn over the recording to the police or something but that would mean exposing everything and I don't know if I can do that. I have to do something very soon though. Meaghan said she saw some strange men hanging around outside the house. I'm pretty sure it was my "creditors." I swear I'll kill them if they try and touch either her or Diana.

Jan 28th Today is Tuesday.

Jan 27th Today is Monday. Well, I guess I should have expected it but Diana's not even talking to me. When Meaghan and I were alone for a few minutes she said "Mommy" had been crying all day. I don't know what to do anymore.

Jan 26th Today is Sunday. I found this strange little place today called Ash Grove Park. It's not really too far from here but off of some back roads I had never taken before. I had gone out for a drive after Diana and I had a terrible fight. I was hoping to share a nice Sunday with Diana and Meaghan, you know, just enjoying being a family. I know it's all my fault but we don't feel like much of a family lately. I've had to put entirely too much time into trying to make a go of my business, yeah, the one that was supposed to provide me all the freedom to do what I really wanted. And then on top of that, the lies I've been forced to tell Diana have just made things even worse. She's grown cold and distant lately, as if she senses the deceit I've put between us. Her questions have grown more and more frequent about the business and how it's doing, stuff she was never concerned with before. And she started up about that again this morning. Meaghan was off playing somewhere and she mentioned that she had talked to Bruce again and he was really concerned about me. I tried to pass it off as him just really wanting me to come back to anonymousfame but I could tell she didn't believe me, at least not entirely. She was holding something back, as if she either knew more than she was letting on or was afraid to cross that line from which she knew there would be no coming back. She went on to act as if nothing had happened but it ruined everything for me and I guess my guilt and all the pressure got the best of me. I ended up yelling at her and Meghan, leaving both of them in tears as I fled out the door. What am I becoming? Anyway, this place was a quiet little amusement park, not very crowded, I guess because of the somewhat cool weather. Still there were a few people taking advantage of the sunny Winter day but I managed to ignore them all as I walked lost in thought through the place. I was so pre-occupied that I really didn't pay it too much attention but it did give me an idea; maybe if I take Diana and Meaghan there, we can have a fun little "family" day again. You know, get us back on the right foot. I'm going to try and plan something soon.

Jan 25th Today is Saturday. Six months after I started synthasia.com I knew that it was a hole that was sucking me in. My earlier passion and enthusiasm had been replaced with the reality of a bad economy and shrinking advertising budgets. A few of the large companies that had promised to come with me to my new firm backed out of their commitments suddenly and traditional financing sources dried up completely with the after effects of Sept 11th and the worsening stock and investment markets. No matter what though, I could not bring myself to admit my mistake, to either my wife or friends, or even, tragically to myself. With my personal finances nearing depletion from trying to carry the struggling business and no sources of legitimate funding available to me any longer, I sought out some other alternatives. I've always been good at finding "alternatives" to societies norms and have always had a predilection and fascination with the fringe and rogue elements of our culture. As luck would have it, someone I had met through my work at anonymousfame was able to "help" me out and arranged for me to receive some loans from a less-than-reputable source. There was absolutely no question in my mind when I did it that I would be able to pay them back. After all, I had all these great ideas and was on the verge of writing this soon-to-be bestseller novel. What was there to worry about?

Jan 24th Today is Friday.

Jan 23rd Today is Thursday. Diana is asking questions about Synthasia and I've run out of lies to tell her. It's only a matter of time until she finds out the truth. She told me today that Bruce had called her, asking if she would talk to me about coming back to anonymousfame. He told her he had heard through some sources that things weren't going well and was concerned. She was very mad at me when I refused to even discuss it with her. I didn't even know where to begin and she was in no mood to here my pathetic half-truths and insincere assurances. How could this have all gone so terribly wrong?

Jan 22nd Today is Wednesday. After a couple of years at anonymousfame, it looked clearly like Bruce [that's Bruce Abbott, long time friend and ex-college roommate] and I had finally hit upon the right formula. Thanks to a few important and influential clients having dramatic success as a result of our work, the cash was rolling in and we had quite a backlog of potential clients seeking our services. Diana was thrilled with our success and the things it was able to provide for us and our daughter - the new house, nice BMWs, exclusive school for Meaghan - and the lifestyle it afforded her. And yet, despite all of that, I was still empty and unhappy inside. Although many industry critics praised my concepts and campaigns as "brilliant" and "revolutionary" I still felt like a prostitute, selling my creative skills to the highest bidder. This wasn't the art I felt I was born to create and left me disillusioned and hollow. And it struck me that maybe, just maybe, this was at last my chance to be truly happy and fulfilled, to chase that elusive dream I had been pursuing since some wondrous book in my childhood filled me with appreciation for the power of the human imagination and gave me a desire to entertain, educate and enthrall others. At last, with somewhat of a solid foundation beneath my feet, I could finally truly reach for the stars above my head, by writing that masterpiece that had been building inside me my entire life. But anonymousfame left me no time for writing or other creative pursuits. The demands of partnering a successful business were extraordinary, compounded by the society lifestyle my wife wanted to enjoy. And so, a little over a year ago, despite the vociferous and strenuous objections of my wife, partner and almost all of my friends, I left our successful company to start my own business. I thought if I could only dictate my own schedule and set my own priorities, I could find ways to work on achieving my secret dream and find the happiness that had so long eluded me. And so I started a smaller and more manageable version (or so I thought) of anonymousfame, a marketing consulting and web design firm I called synthasia.com. I'd always been fascinated by computers and the power of multimedia presentation and had recently taught myself web development and design. I did everything I thought I needed to, to ensure that the new company would be successful - secured financing, lined up some profitable accounts, developed some good ideas and concepts to sell. And for a short while, everything seemed fine.

Jan 21st Today is Tuesday.

Jan 20th Today is Monday. I've managed to buy myself a little time but it can't last for long. I've stopped paying the regular creditors a while ago, and the collection agencies and other vultures are just starting to descend. But it's my "alternative" financial backers that I'm much more worried about. They are rapidly losing their patience. Two of them paid me a vist yesterday. Thank God Diana and Meaghan weren't home. Luckily, they agreed to give me a little more time, but that can't last forever. I must figure out something soon. God, I wish I could turn back time.

Jan 19th Today is Sunday.

Jan 18th Today is Saturday. A few years ago I thought life couldn't get any better. Or at least part of me felt that way. At the age of 32, I was partners in a successful marketing/advertising firm that I had started with a longtime friend and making more money then I ever dreamed possible. Oh sure, I've had crazy fantasies about writing that next great American novel that would bring me wealth and fame, but I never could actually get past starting it. I'm a great one for starting things; it's carrying them out to their conclusion that has always eluded me. So having something I had a hand in starting actually succeed was a new experience for me. The company was still fairly young so I wasn't actually rich yet or anything, but everything certainly seemed lined up to insure that I could provide more than comfortably for my wife and daughter. Since I married my dream girl a few years ago, I've done my best to be responsible and provide her everything she could possibly want, even though that wasn't always the easiest thing to do. I've always been kind of a free spirit, with a lot more potential than actual drive to be successful, at least by most people's measures of success. For seven long years after college I struggled with my insecurites and self-doubt. No, strike that, it's really been all my life. I have dreamed of becoming a serious writer since I was a boy and never truly wanted to do anything else with my life. But this world has a way of taking all your illusions away. My problem was, as the poet Robert Bly once observed, there are people who want to be a writer, and there are people who want to write. I was never sure which I was. I did, in fact, desperately want to write; I just couldn't. It was if my years of voluminous reading and hours of deep philosophical thinking had humbled me into creative silence. I had a writing block the size of Gibraltar. So I did what all wannabe writers do - I read and read and read while working whatever menial jobs I had to put a roof over my head and food in my belly. While I worked away the years, painting walls or writing advertising copy, I worked endlessly in my mind trying to assemble all the strange and wonderful ideas fermenting there into that one great story I knew it could be. And I started that story hundreds of times with the passion of a convert to a new religion. Time after time, however, the act of actually putting it all on paper seemed overwhelming, and eventually I sank down on my couch, picked up a book, and eagerly disappeared down the rabbit hole of another writer's work. During those dark days, I read well over a thousand books, some of them again and again, taking page after page of notes, cross-referencing them in large notebooks, desperately seeking those hidden words that would make the world make sense to me. I was a walking dilemma, frustrated by my lack of progress or success but somehow proud of my rebellion against the traditional "working world" I had vowed never to be a part of. I reveled in my "artistic" and independent lifestyle and grew to accept my frequent descents into depression and melancholia. It was worth it, I told myself, all part of the creative struggle. And then I met my future wife and everything changed. It wasn't until I met and married Diana that suddenly the more material forms of success seemed to begin mattering to me. She's actually the main reason I took an old friend up on his offer to start a business up in the first place.

Jan 17th Today is Friday. I need to put down exactly how this all happened, how I got myself into this terribly tragic dilemma, and how I'm on the verge of losing everything I love in this world. If I put down all the pieces, maybe then the solution will become visible to me. God knows I have nothing to lose at this point.

Jan 16th Today is Thursday. Things are worse than I thought and I may not have the time to even complete this like I intended. Time has been my enemy as long as I can remember, but especially in the last few years. I always feel as if I'm running out of time, like there isn't enough time to do everything I want and have to do in my life. And so I hurry here and there, trying to save minutes but it's never enough, no matter what. There's never enough time. Since my days in college, when I took a second shift job to help pay for my education, I've gotten by on only four or five hours of sleep, like some character right out of a Greek tragedy, relentlessly driven by some unknown yet pre-ordained fate. I've come to understand this as one of my great obstacles in life, my own rock to roll uphill. It compels me to believe I need to steal time, borrow moments, stretch my hours, dilate my days, whenever and wherever possible. Because of this, I often feel as if I have already led several lives. But still the dragon of doubt breathes down my neck, reminding me that life is too short to be merely marking time. What am I waiting for?

Jan 15th Today is Wednesday. My name is Dale and I feel really funny writing this. I've never been one to keep a journal or a diary, even though I've wanted to be a serious author/writer all my life. It seems my whole life I've always wanted to be something other than what I am forced to be. You see, I've always had a problem being happy. No matter what I accomplish or accumulate, it's never either enough or somehow, just not quite right. I sometimes feel as if someone is writing the story of my life, some cruel and twisted author who delights in teasing me (his main character) with grand thoughts and visions of how this world and my life should be, only to have everything I do fall short, in one way or another. Recently, my life has literally become a Hell, a nightmare that all my plans and effort seem useless to overcome. It's funny how ideas that seem so right and so sure one day can turn around so absolutely in a short time. A short while ago you would have looked at my life and thought I had everything a man could want. But it's all crumbling around me, like a poorly written plot whose inconsistencies and dead ends have finally caught up with it. But for some strange reason, I just can't give up hope. There's just too much to lose and too many people I deeply care about it who will be devastated if the truth comes out. I keep thinking if I can just put it all down on paper, see it all laid out before me, that I'll be able to make some sense of it and save myself before it truly is too late. That's why I'm writing this diary. In all likelihood, no one but me will ever read this and I'm certain very few people could even relate to anything I've written or plan to write. Maybe it's just one more straw I'm grasping at, one thread-like lifeline to grab for as my head slowly descends below the surface of the quicksand of my life. But, here it is, a New Year. Diana is off putting Meaghan to bed and will probably fall asleep on the bed with her. The way we've been fighting lately, it's almost as if she feels more comfortable in our daughter's bed.