It's warm outside but the sun doesn't shine. My face hurts. I looked between the orange curtains of my bedroom window. It's not dark but not light either, still no rain. At 6 a.m. I have to get dressed and get to work. All kinds of house chores are waiting for me while my mother is still in bed. I am used to her staying in bed. At times she sleeps in daytime too. I wonder how she can sleep if the housekeeper is in the house, the phone can ring any minute or people show up at the front door.
I made my bed, wiped dust, polished all the shoes, set the table and made tea too. We always eat bread in the morning. White bread, brown bread, rye bread and mout bread. Mout bread is with oatmeal. It's not white, not brown and always soft but the bakery doesn't sell it. At least I don't believe they do because it's never delivered. I can choose what I like on my bread. Bread with butter and chocolate sprinkles I like most or cheese. There is peanut butter and several kinds of meat like ham, salami, liver cheese. There's marmalade, chocolate spread, brown sugar or if you are my mother coconut bread, cheese plus ham, cheese or ham with mustard or a slice of bread with sambal or apple syrup. Eggs we only have on Sundays just like orange juice. The table is always full but most of it isn't eaten. I still set the table with everything we have because my mother always wants what isn't on the table. Like Marmite or Holland toast or the breakfast cake. Once we are finished I clean it up.
This morning I eat alone. I am not hungry but it's better to sit at the table and pretend. If my mother decides to come downstairs it will make her angry if I don't do as told. I prayed before the meal I didn't have and afterwards. It's a stupid prayer: dear Lord I thank you for the meal. Amen.
No lord gave this meal. Not even a man. My mother worked for it and paid for it. Perhaps we should thank her? I am not going to suggest it she would be crazy enough to like it. She always wants us to be grateful to her. Me and my dad. I think the housekeeper too. I guess her clients and the rest of the family too. She is the queen and the only important person there is.
I waited and waited and as I heard the moped of the housekeeper I quickly cleaned up.
She greeted me and that was all. I am not sure where she went but I waited in the kitchen a bit longer till I left for school. I am not sure about the time but heard the clock in the living room and counted. I think it was eight times. I never know what to expect if I come back home but all I know is I don't want to be late for school again. I am frequently late but the teacher seems to think I am lazy, stay in bed too long not willing to wake up. She talked about it, about being late and looked at me. I can't help and it's pointless to explain what's going home. She won't believe me or understand it, no one will. Perhaps Francoise does but most won't and they all blame me. If you are a child you have no right. Adults always say you lie. Children do not have the right to complain, defend themselves or speak freely. The only thing I am allowed to is to pray. I pray before and after each meal before I go to bed and at school, the day starts with a prayer and this is not what I want. No person or god cares. No one listens. It doesn't matter if you are good, do something good or kind, do speak the truth, are helpful, are in need or badly hurt. People do not care, do not believe me and no god's clear. If you believe in something that doesn't exist you are fantasising to make your life better. It's a story made up by someone to scare others. It makes some feel better and safer but not me. Only my friend who waits at the end of my bed makes me feel better.
Tuesday
June 8, 2021
What hurts more? Being beaten with a whip, iron stool, a leather dog leash, a dog's chain with a carabiner or the old fashioned leather belt with the buckle he pulls off his trousers as soon as my mother yells at him "don't you see what thát child..."
He never seems to see it but it always ends the same. To please her or to have peace of mind (his mind not mine) he hits me till the moment it's enough. I never hear him count but he may watch the clock or his belt just ends on my back and bottom out of automatism. I thought dad loved me but it's hard to tell. If dad is willing to punish me for not sitting still, for things I never did or said it can't be love. He doesn't love me. He pretends it's normal and never asks what I did, never refuses to hit me. I am not sure what hurts more. My mother uses the whip, her shoes with high heels, dogs' leashes and chains and my dad his belt. They never use their hand. The belt is leather and dark brown. The buckle is silver-coloured. A present from my mother just like the brown leather slippers he uses more on me than on his feet? I had it all, tried them all. The different leashes, chains, belts. It all hurts differently. It's good I can't see my back, what I look like. Still, if I am sent to get my mother a dog leash I take the one with the chain. The heavier chain with the big carabiner. I know that one hurts more but it makes it harder for her to hit me with it. If she raises her arm and tries, misses the heavy chain and carabiner swing back at her with some luck right into her face. It happened before so it can happen again.
No school in the afternoon and my parents are busy. The summer vacation will start soon. Mrs Mulder the teacher told us she will not come back next year and we will have a different teacher. From next year on all teachers are men. I already know them. The one I have next year is a musician and the leader of the school orchestra. The other teacher gives singing lessons and leads the chorus. There's a teacher who has comics and allows children to read them which the principal forbids and the teacher of the 6th grade is the headmaster. He isn't a kind person and doesn't like me.
Wednesday
June 9, 2021
Today was the last time I went to gymnastics. The teacher gave me a paper about the camp. It will be after the school closed. My parents have to pay for it and there's a list of things I need to take along with me. The other children sound happy. They talk about the great things they will do. It's noisy. I told my mother before and already gave her a letter. I am not sure if she paid, bought the things I need and I'm not going to ask for it. It's dangerous to ask for something. If she didn't I don't care. I have never been camping, my parents never go camping. I am not sure if I like sleeping in a tent with other children... the bullies. For sure it will be with the bullies. Results always think you are friends if you are in the same class. Are they that blind? It's hard to make friends if there's no way to meet other people. I hope I can stay with granny and if not with grandmother or auntie this Summer.
Thursday
June 10, 2021
Bad luck. My mother told me to come along with her to buy the camping stuff I need. A sleeping bag and a thin mattress, a box for soap and one for my toothbrush. She bought me a new comb and bikini too and that was it. I wish she wouldn't always drive to the city. Being with her in a car is scary besides she always complains. If not about me it's about her mother, sister, her father, granny, her clients the neighbours or dad.
At least she was back home in time for her clients and I spent the rest of the day and evening in my bedroom till dad said I had to go to bed. It was early and I heard children outside but didn't dare to have a look. With my mother in the room next to mine, it's better to be careful. Her clients make her angry I can hear her voice through the wall if she speaks. To others, she might sound polite or even friendly but I know her. If she is angry she has a reason again to punish me.
Friday
June 11, 2021
I went out with the hiking club for the last time. My toe hurts. There's a wound underneath it. I think my toes aren't normal. Grandmother told me grandfather had the same toes. He said these are walking toes but mine are not. I cannot ask him because he died. I never saw his toes only his face. His face as he was alive and his face on the few photos left. He always wears a suit and sometimes a hat and gloves. His shoes were polished too. In old pictures people are dressed better, they combed their hair and men were shaved. Today people do not care what they look like. They do not take care of themselves and look dirty and the same. My mother says it's not hygienic. I think it's one of those reasons people do not like me. I am different. I wear dresses and skirts, like dark colours, my hair is long, I wear jewellery, look different and read.
There will be a hiking event after Summer. Four evenings walking in Rotterdam city. We live nearby. Not the centre of it but where the airport is. I have a paper about it but don't know if I will join or if I will give it to my mother. It depends... If she thinks I like to go she will punish me in every way she can think of. I don't care if I can't go but I do not like her punishments. She is a mean person. There won't be a bus picking me up. My parents don't walk so I have to go by bike or? I don't like that. It's far and I get easily lost.
Saturday
June 12, 2021
Ever wondered what life looked like a hundred years ago? Hundred years ago some people can remember. They are stuck in the past or perhaps they go back to the past, a better life they had. I hope it was a better life and not a scary one like mine.
Sunday
June 13, 2021
A kid's diary
Not in the mood
https://read.cash/@wakeupkitty/not-in-the-mood-79635b7c
She taught me a lesson
https://read.cash/@wakeupkitty/she-taught-me-a-lesson-c4ce3e8d
It isn't gold for real
https://read.cash/@wakeupkitty/it-int-gold-for-real-9ed1fe16
God doesn't want you to be happy
https://read.cash/@wakeupkitty/god-doesnt-want-you-to-be-happy-045edf7c
I was hanging on every word I was reading. Such a beautiful (but so sad) article. Your writing is fantastic, always love your posts. It's devastating that these things happen to children all over the world, some have no voice because of their circumstances.