text: Friday - Dear Diary, My parents always say, “Integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking.” Today we went to the mall. In the parking lot, there was a man asking for money; he claimed to be blind. I’d tugged on my mother’s sleeve and asked to spare a dollar for Secret Santa gifts. My family is very rich. I don’t need ten dollars -- I dropped it in the man’s tin can instead. My mother saw me do it, she said I was very kind. The blind man said nothing, but he just looked up at me with those big, ladylike sunglasses and smiled a bit. He looked over my shoulder. I don’t think he saw me. We went inside the mall. This took a while because we parked on the lower level. My parents always park on the lowest possible level so they can give the people that need it the higher levels. Inside, I told my mother the man did not say thank you like they always tell me is right. She explained that a blind man would have said thank you but he did not know I was there. She said that since I’m the sweetest little girl ever she is sure he would have been very grateful. I think my parents are very wise. I think I did the right thing. I hope I have integrity, because my parents say it’s a good thing. Saturday - Dear Diary, My parents always say, “No one gets what they don’t work for.” Today I had a basketball game. We lost, and the girls we played were very mean. They teased us about winning even when we said good things to them. We have a rematch next Saturday. I told my mother I wanted to win. She said my father was in the hospital today but she would take me to the park. My father might be dying, she says. The park has a basketball court with a hoop. My mother says I can practice there. I asked why she immediately suggested practicing when I told her I really wanted to beat the other team. She said that if I did not get better, I would not help my team. Then she said that if I worked I would get better and then I might win. I would love to be the reason we win. I think I am going to work for it. I hope we win next Saturday. I told you my parents were wise. Tuesday - Dear Diary, My parents always say, “If you listen to us, you might learn something.” Today my mother was very rude. I think it’s because my father may not be able to be saved. I don’t know, because my mother won’t talk about it. She keeps telling me to do chores. Today when I said I was just going to go to my room and do the chores later, she snapped at me. I get it, though, because if I lost someone I really loved I would snap sometimes too. I still love her, a lot. I don’t know about grownups. When I asked her why she was being a teeny bit rude, she said she was not trying to be rude or give me a hard time, but she was just scared. I would not make my daughter cry if I was scared. I am scared now; I hope she comforts me. I think I will learn something if I keep listening. I know I’m going to keep loving her. May Monday - Dear Diary, My parents always say, “We don’t care what you do -- just behave.” It’s been awhile, I’m sorry. My father passed away a long time ago, and I found out about two months after I suspected it. Today was my tenth birthday. I’ve changed since I was nine, so has my mother. Just because today was my first double-digit day, she thinks I am her slave. I do way too many chores, and she is increasingly horrible to me. Sometimes I hear her on the phone with someone I don’t recognize. She says things like, “Where did I go?” and “I get it -- things suck around here, too.” She says other words, too, but she used to tell me they were ugly and never said them. I remember the days she seemed to care. I have to go now. I think she’s hassling me about another chore, and she’s on a call, too. I’d better ask her if she’s trying to marry another man, because if she is, I might need to have a talk with her. I think I’m not behaving. I’d better start. Thursday - Dear Diary, My parents always say, “The best memory you can ever have are the ones you make with your family.” Today my mother went on another date. She’s been trying really hard, I see. While she was out I walked to my friend’s house. I haven’t had a friend in a while, and I felt like I needed the comfort. She was very supportive, just like my mother used to be. She told me that if I just prayed every night and believed that I would be alright, everything would be. That changed. She turned on the news. I think my mother had a heart attack on her date. She is in the hospital. My best friend’s mother is taking care of me now. At dinner, I asked my friend’s mother why my life was progressively getting worse. She seemed secretive. I understand. I don’t think their family’s life is going very well, either. I feel bad for them. My friend says she feels bad for me. I’m done being a kid. I think it’s time for me to grow up a little bit. I hope I’ve made enough family memories, because I don’t think I’m making new ones soon. Sunday - Dear Diary, My parents used to say, “When we die, you make sure your brother’s alright.” I write that they used to say that because I don’t have a brother anymore. I don’t think I’m bound to have a mother for much longer, either. My mother’s been having heart attacks, and a few panic attacks as well. She’s in the hospital, and my friend and her mother are both taking care of me well. They probably feel really bad for me. I feel horrible ever hating my mother. I said I would keep loving her and I wrote horrible things. I remember when I used to have a father, a mother, and a brother. Now two are gone and one is about to pass and leave me to rot. My friend’s mother Miss Tylie is treating me very nicely, and I feel comfortable here. She never makes me do any chores. I feel insane writing this. I better go help around the house freely before my ink smears from tear stains. I think I took good care of my brother. Maybe it isn’t time for me to grow up yet. Saturday - Dear Diary, My mother used to say, “Praying helps God see to the soul.” I am stuck writing, “used to say.” Miss Tylie was talking to my friend Abby for a little bit today, and at the end I heard her tell Abby not to tell me about the conversation. She did anyway. My mother has a few days left to live. I had asked Miss Tylie if we could go down and visit her. She said yes, tomorrow. I have been crying everyday after school. I am not sure if any of my classmates know of my struggle, but I can’t forget it. All of my friends think I’m strange so I have no friends anymore, except Abby. Abby always tells me the truth. I can’t lose her. I hope my mother was right telling me to pray, because I’ve been doing it a lot. Sunday - Dear Diary, My brother used to say, “You’re just like Mom.” He didn’t mean it as a good thing. Today we visited my mother. I am not sure she remembered me. I think the doctor knew I was very excited to see her, so she told me my mother, due to her struggles, had amnesia, so I could not talk to her well without mishaps here and there. The doctor came and shooed us out after a while so we didn’t stress her out. On the way out, I think Miss Tylie told me that would be the last time I get to hear my mother’s voice. I vaguely remember she told me that, because I was crying so hard I don’t think my ears were working right. I remember, though, the last thing my mother said to me. And I don’t think I’ll forget it soon: “Make yourself comfortable. Get a home. And James, take care of your sister.” He thought I was my brother. My brother who has been dead for six years. My brother. James. I had asked, “Do you know who I am?” She opened her mouth to speak but the doctor and the nurse smiled and called us out. I guess I am like my mother. Monday - Dear Diary, My mother used to say, “The deaf man can always hear if he asks to hear.” I think that’s the same for blind men. Like the one I saw a thousand years ago. Miss Tylie says she’s making an executive decision. I am not sure what that means, but I know it means she’s keeping me or sending me to the orphanage. My mother didn’t write a will, Miss Tylie says. Abby says that means legally they can keep me! I would love to live there. Since Abby and Miss Tylie are moving away, I get to come with them and live in a new place and go to a new school! I’ll probably have more friends, too. I feel like I’m starting a new life without any family here. I guess I’ve started a new family. Sometimes I regret ever hating my mother. I miss her now, especially because the last thing I had to say to her was, “Do you know who I am?” I suppose it is a lesson for everybody, though. Because who wants to waste their ten dollars on a man who wasn’t really blind?