When did my life become about someone else?
Perhaps I should rename this journal The Incredibly Deadly Misadventures of Casey Rose and His Tag-Along Fag, Wait What Was His Name?, Oh Yeah Dandy Darkly, because right then, sitting on an itchy bale of hay, scraping donkey shit off my sneaker and swatting at flies, I realized just how lame my own ghost-busting had become. Then again, mostly everyone's life seemed lame while we all waited for Casey Rose to emerge from the corn maze with Sam Hain.
Casey's zealous fans with their shriveled attention spans stood as though in waking comas. With barely any mobile signal and only totem poles, corn and dirt to stare at, seconds became minutes became hours became days for the hundreds of anxious, twitching children.
