Dear Diary

756 Words2 Pages

Dear diary, I woke up on the cold hard floor to realize that something wasn't right; something wasn't as it should be. I found myself two feet away from my bed with only a thin nightgown on, but I couldn't quite focus on anything except the pounding in my head. The voices were getting stronger by the minute and all I could do was sit and let the pain subside which took almost an hour. I was given medication for those headaches but I refuse to put my body on the expectations of painkillers, all they ever do is kill you. It is more like someone pounding a hammer onto your scalp. I refuse to take drugs if I know the headache isn't permanent. I must have had another nightmare, I can't quite focus right now, but that is when I usually get them so severe.

Today she was going to be nineteen, same as me. If she had lived. They took her away from me ten years ago and even though I have spent thousands in therapy, the nightmare always comes back. So, I stopped going and soon started getting phone calls from my mother and my therapist wanting to know why I stopped attending the sessions. I don't answer the calls; I never answer them. Maybe because I know what will be said or maybe I am afraid of what will be said. I don't know, but I don't intend to find out because I don't have much time to listen to anyone right now. I plan to visit her today maybe bring her flowers, daisies. Yes, I thought I would do just that because daisies were her favorite.

We once planned to grow a daisy garden, with all the trimmings and a stream flowing near it. We were all but eight when we planned our adventures. We always thought that we were more mature than anyone, even her brother who was five years older than our eight years. I would usually be the first to reach the pond with two Pepsi-colas I took from my mom's fridge, she still doesn't know about them. Antoinette, I always loved her name, she would come ten minutes after me on her tricycle with the packet of potato chips.

That was usually our picnic menu if either of us didn't get any strikes that day. Tony, she liked to be called that, she sometimes got harsher strikes because her dad was a heavy weight champion, but my dad wasn't so physically fit fortunately.

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