Monday, Oct. 8

Monday, Oct. 8

  Dear diary,

  

The weekend passed by smoothly. There were no screams from me or mom, no broken vases, no angry car chases. I hated it. School was less smooth, I was chastised by my English teacher at least twice-- apparently the reading assignment of To Kill a Mockingbird Lydia tried to tell me was true. Still, I’ll not give her any credit. She could hardly blame me for my lack of trust in her, 5 years of lies and backstabbing tends to take an effect on you after sometime. And yet, even after 5 years of lies and backstabbing, there was always that something that mends up things up between us. We’re like sisters, Lydia and I.  We fight each other, destroy each other, lift each other, and support each other. Sometimes, I feel as though all we have is each other, despite her habitual lying. Like, for example, the time my a*****e of a dad threw me out the house. The weather was horrible. I felt as though the tips of my toes were literally frozen-stiff by the ankle-deep snow, I had no one else to turn to but her. A day later dad went nuts when he found out where I was staying, practically dragging me by my hair into his truck. The look on his face on the ride back, his grip on me, I can honestly say I’d never get over them.

  “Get your a*s down here!” Mom yells.

   

   I sense the throat-drying steam below now. S**t.