My first diary

6/20/1987                                                                                                Pg.1

Dear diary,

I just got you, I’m not sure what to talk about. Well my name is Jessica and I am 9 and ½. I have Blue eyes and blonde hair. I love to wear dresses and spin around. I’m glad you have a lock on you because I don’t want anyone to see this. No one else would believe the way my life is. We move every 6 months, I don’t know my dad and my mom is an alcoholic and drug user. I’ve been through so much already. So at least I have you now to get it all out. My mom never listens to me, she doesn’t care. 

I had such a bad day! I wish my life was normal! I just want to go to the fair like other kids!

We’ve been living in my mom’s Black DodgeVan, the kind with curtains and a bed in the back. There is no bathroom or shower, or privacy. We have been parked on a construction site, where her boyfriend works, he stays in the van with us too. I don’t really like him he is mean to my mom, they drink and fight, and they have sex in front of me, while I pretend to be asleep. He calls her names a lot and is racist. He is so mean and always yelling and cursing, calling people names. I started a curse jar so that he has to pay me when he curses. Different words are worth different amounts. The F word is a whole dollar. Sometimes he gives me a $5 ahead of time because he knows he is going to curse. This is the only good thing about him being around. 

 I can see the fair across from where we are parked and I want to go so bad, but they just keep saying no. I can hear the laughter and screams of excitement, even the bands playing music. I can see all of the bright lights, I bet those people are having fun, like normal families. We are in Vallejo where they are building houses to the right of the highway 37 exit from 80 west. It’s boring living on a job site, the only good thing is there are places we can plug in our radio. It’s hot out so my mom keeps a spray bottle of water to mist us with when we need it. It helps some. 

Sometimes I wonder if I was kidnapped, this can’t possibly be my real mom! Maybe that’s more of a fantasy. My mom can be mean and scary when she is mad at me. She likes to grab my head with her thumb nails dug into my eyes and slam my head against the wall repeatedly. It hurts. Other times she drags me around by my hair and calls me names. I love my mom but I wish she didn’t treat me like this. What happened today made me so mad! 

Lately my mom's boyfriend's son and girlfriend have been staying in a hotel near us. His son is just as mean to the girlfriend, but the girlfriend seems nice, well I thought.

Today was crazy! We have been driving around in the van killing time while the guys work, when all of the sudden my mom and Stacy started whispering and being sneaky. They began to plan to buy some crack. When I heard this I was so mad! Stacy, the girlfriend is 8 months pregnant! I’m used to my mom doing drugs but why would she let this pregnant young woman do this? Why would a pregnant woman want to do this? This can not be good for the baby growing inside of her. I don’t get it! And with me in the car? 

I felt so overwhelmed and compelled to make them change their mind. I started crying and begging them not to as we pulled into the parking lot of a shady motel 6. “It will be okay honey don’t worry” they said. “This is not going to be ok please just wait until the baby is born!  No baby should have to deal with this! I was scared. I continued pleading with them, “please do not do this, please. Think of the baby.” They continued to try and find this man they were looking for, the dealer. My crying and pleading was not being heard. What else can I do? How can I stop this? What am I going to do? Someone please help me, I thought to myself. I felt so helpless.

We were in the parking lot of the dirty motel for at least an hour. My mom and Stacy were on a mission, not to be stopped. I hate my mom so much sometimes, I mean who cares what she does to me, but how can she think of doing this to an unborn baby? How evil and sick can you be to help a pregnant woman get high on crack? I needed a miracle. Somehow I felt like if I didn’t stop it then it was my fault. My heart was pounding and eyes watering.

The scene was familiar because we have lived in several hotels like this. I knew that these hotels were filled with weird people, drug addicts and prostitutes. They are scary places to be in any event. 

After being there for at least an hour and making myself sick with fear, but then, my miracle; They finally got the word, the drug dealer guy wasn’t around and he wasn’t coming back. Their mission had failed. And my prayers were answered. This was the best thing that happened in so long. I guess maybe she would still get some drugs later, I’m sure she did, but at least this time she didn’t. I didn’t have to feel like I was a part of poisoning an unborn child. In a way I felt as though I saved this baby. The biggest weight was lifted from my heart. The tension slowly left my shoulders and back as we drove out of the hotel parking lot. I was almost happy to drop her off and head back to the job site. It was not the fair, but I was still happy. Thank you for listening. I hope tomorrow is better. Goodnight.