Molly’s Diary

Dear Diary, You don’t know me yet, so let me introduce myself; my name is Molly and I’m currently really ill, which is the reason for which I’m starting to write in you. Ever since I got infected with Scarlet Fever, I’ve been stuck inside the house, which wouldn’t be that bad if my parents were nicer.

My parents have always been very strict; the smallest mistakes throw them off and I’m constantly required to be perfect. Having to be something completely unachievable- or more to the point nonexistent- like perfect, is harder than you might think. You have the constant pressure to act lady-like or to always pay attention to the little details to make sure you make no mistakes, but after a while that pressure starts getting to you. You start believing you need to be perfect and you never take a moment to analyse that thought because you’re too scared that would throw your perfect schedule off, so your perfect route through your perfect life would imperfectly fall apart.

Since being quarantined, I haven’t been able to call myself perfect anymore, which was fine by me, but not by my parents. I used to love school- learning about new things excites me- and I was lucky to have Miss McAllister as my teacher this year. Unfortunately, because of my sickness, I haven’t been able to go to school, so I’m stuck at home listening to my parents complain about their imperfect daughter. Since the first day I missed school, I have heard my parents constantly talking about what a disappointment I am and about how I should’ve been more careful not to become ill. They didn’t know I could hear them; they didn’t know I could hear all those mean remarks and things they said about me, but I could, and everyday those remarks hurt worse than a knife stabbing my heart.

During times like this, I want to just let go, but I continue fighting for them.

Charlie and Thomas are my best friends. We used to go poaching together or run as if there was no tomorrow. I once even threw rocks in a lake to predict our future, and that was that we would all be together forever. Who would’ve known that the people supposed to love me the most would cut that dream into little pieces?

I remember this one time, I was lying ill in my bed and I heard Charlie’s and Thomas’s voices. I was happy, too weak to show it, but happy, though the moment I heard my mom telling my friends to leave, I got overpowered by a certain wave of sadness and despair, and without even thinking I vehemently started moving my finger. It hurt, it hurt so bad, but I was desperately trying to give them all a sign, any sign that I was awake and that I wanted them to stay, but that didn’t work, my plan had failed, and soon enough I realized that attempting to move something like my arm, to manage to draw attention on myself, would be futile and since then, they haven’t visited me again.

Charlie and Thomas are very lucky to have such an amazing family. A caring mother working as hard as she can to provide for them and take care of them, and their bigger brother, Big Joe, who I always find a little odd, but to be honest I quite like that about him. Of course, the Peaceful family (the way my dad calls them) isn’t perfect. Their dad died one or two years ago and the mother’s aunt, also known as ‘Grandmother’, is the incarnation of evil, but despite all of that, I’ve always felt more comfortable with them than I ever have or ever will around my own family. I feel as if they actually care for me, and see me as perfect despite all my little flaws.