The injection of Dear Diary

“Are you ready?” 

This could be the moment that changed her life forever. This needle could kill her, or it could make her life worth living again. What did she have to lose? Sucking in a deep breath, she nodded, and the needle was jabbed into her arm. 

Immediately, her brain became alive, spurting out memory in a frantic flow of concept and purpose, like and ocean wave, flooding the barricades of her mind, sweeping her away in the wreckage. She lifted the pen, and began scribbling franticly: 

Year 7, 

Dear diary, 

Something odd happened today, I don’t really understand it, but I’m sure it’s not good. I was skipping down the stairs to breakfast, when I saw Mother putting on her boots, glancing around her suspiciously like a wolf in a pen of lions. She didn’t notice me until she was silently slipping out the door, where she mumbled “going to get milk”. Obviously, I followed her, and instead of walking down the road to the milk shop, she got in her car and drove off, leaving me thinking in her dusty wake. But no matter how much I insisted it was the truth, nobody believed me. I was alone. 

Year 13, 

Dear Diary, 

I’m shaken. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been seeing Mother slip away at times recently, but today, my suspicions were confirmed, in the most brutal way. Father had left to go to work, and as I was reading in my room, I heard a car drive up. The man inside moved so quickly, that I couldn’t see his face, only that he walked directly to our house. Straining my ears, I listened for the sound I hoped would never come. Door open. Door slam. There was a stranger in our house. I waited there for a while, trying to slow my breathing, but soon, I could wait no longer. I called out to my family “there’s a robber in our house!” but nobody herd. I continued yelling all through the house, until I reached my Mothers door. “There's a rob-”. My speech trailed off at what I saw. Oblivious to my shouts were two people, my Mother, and a man I didn’t know, entwined around each other like snakes. They gazed into each other’s eyes. Their lips clashed. I slammed the door, heart beating fast. I couldn’t tell anyone what I had just seen. Who could I confide in? I was alone. 

Year 13, 

Dear Diary, 

It’s been a month now, a month since I found out. Mother made me swear not to tell Father, but I want to more than anything. What I saw that day in my Mother’s room haunts me as I sleep at night, and I know that the only way to prevent that, is to tell Father, but my Mother holds me tight around a string, never leaving me alone with him. My insides are cold now, I can barely do anything without that numb stab of panic and disappointment. My grades have swooped from high to low, and I have even stopped singing, I just can’t find the will to do it anymore. I’m alone. 

Year 14, 

Dear Diary, 

What have I done? Mother warned me. She told me not to say anything. She told me that I would rip this family, and now I have. I came clean at breakfast this morning, and the look she gave me was pure malice. It was nothing, though, compared to Father’s reaction. His was the worst. He didn’t shout. He didn’t scream. He just stared at her, in disbelieving, looking more broken than ever. I hated to see him like this, as if he were dying inside, but not showing his feelings until they burst out. He simply stood up and walked to his room. My siblings were just shocked, though I could tell they were angry at Mother, not Father. The whole house is stunned into silence, though I know it is only the clam before the storm. I’m alone. 

Year 14, 

Dear Diary, 

It’s okay, Father doesn’t blame me for telling the truth, he says it’s better that he knows, but I still feel that stab of guilt every time I look at him. Mother was right. I did drive this family apart, some of us can’t even look each other in the eye anymore. Even my siblings blame me. They think I should have come clean immediately, not waited a year, and none of them will talk to me anymore. None of them compare to Mother though. She hates me, but instead of giving me silent treatment, she yells at me all day long, and gives me all the household chores. For some strange reason, though, she is extremely nice to my siblings, who are slowly thawing towards her. I’m confused and scared. Everyone seems to hate me. I’m alone.  

Year 15, 

Dear Diary, 

It seems as if Mother was waiting for the moment to arrive, and finally, it did. Father’s business went bankrupt. Immediately after, not even trying to disguise it, she forced a divorce. Nowadays, my father wouldn’t speak to anyone, he would just stay in his office all day. I felt so bad for him, but I knew that saying anything would make it worse. Slowly, he was losing everything that made his life worth living. First Mother, then his business, not maybe us too. We could only hope that Mother would change her mind. That seemed unlikely though. Kevin (the man Mother had been having an affair with), now came over constantly, for every meal, every family event, every weekend. He seemed nice on the inside, but I could tell it was just a face. I didn’t like him one bit. But every other person did, bar Father. It was like the family was moving on, but me and Father were stuck behind, unable to move. We were alone. 

Year 16, 

Dear Diary, 

I wish I had stayed with Father. I wish I had not come with them. That is what I call Mother and Kevin (or Father as he makes us call him). The problem is, they hate me, everything about me, and I am the chosen child to do everything. I do the dished, I make lunch, I clean the house, whilst the rest of them sit around and scorn me. At first, my siblings were reproachful of this idea, but soon, their hate of me won over, and they began to fit in perfectly. I go to a horrible school, that I have to walk 3 miles to reach, complete rags compared to my sibling’s fancy private schools. It’s so unfair. I’m the only one who has to live like this. I’m alone. 

Year 17, 

Dear Diary, 

Now, I envy the days where I had lived with them, now I live in a shed. My room was re-decorated into a spa, and now I live in a cold, draughty shed, with a rotten old blanket for a bed. I don’t go to school anymore, instead, I am a full time cleaner, washer, launderer, cook, maid etcetera. The list goes on and on and on, I’m even expected to grow vegetables to sell at the market. 

Today, though, something new happened, that truly sealed my exit of the family. Kevin (or master Baker, as he likes me to call him) hit me. I was cooking lunch, when my slippery, sweaty fingers slipped on a pan, smashing it to pieced. He took one look at it, and hit me round the face, screaming that I was a useless little girl, and I deserved to die. I ran back to my shed, and cried, I was alone. 

Year 18, 

Dear Diary, 

I woke this morning, with a purpose in my heart. Today was the day to escape. I had been sneaking away money, food and water for the past year, and now, it was finally time to leave. I hauled up my bag and left. Before the sun had risen, I was free, in the dark streets of my old school town. Panting, I lay down my burden, and gazed at the dark skies. There was no going back now. I was alone. 

Crash! She awoke from her trance to a gathering of frantic doctors and nurses, staring at her in awe. She had done it. She had gone through it. And now, she was going to put them in jail for what they had done to her,