People who make promises lie. It is better to say no instead of making a promise you will not keep. The teacher makes false promises, my family does. The king of false promises is my dad. He never does what he says. He is not a man of his word. Not like those men who shake hands and with that agree. My dad is away and lies and doesn't care. It's about him.
It is what my mother says every day but I start to see it too. I thought he is my daddy, he loves me but he doesn't. He loves himself and does as he likes. My mother says he's a loser. He has no job, doesn't take care of us, he promises he will once he is finished. His promises are lies. He tells them to make her shut up but she knows. She punishes me because of him and that's why I am beaten, kicked, locked in and people are not talking to me.
She screams at me, curses and beats me with her high heels. The iron high stool she used to watch me through the window above my bedroom she used on my head and back too. I heard the crack. The crack inside me but I didn't cry. There's no reason for me to. Why should I shed a tear? I will not beg for my life. I don't care about life. Life isn't funny, not good, not paradise or brings good things. In life, people do not care about the child locked in. It's just a child, children lie that's what they say. All children lie that's why they are not believed.
I waited till the house became quiet. Quiet and cold. It's the time I can look outside my window. A window that is closed and hidden behind curtains but there's life. I know there must be life out there. Sometimes I hear cars, voices or the sound of the recorder of the boy living in this street. We are not friends. He is in the same class as I am. If I can hear his recorder does he hear the screaming and curses too?
I know my parents visited his but we never met. At least he is safe. I think he is because he always plays the recorder. He joins the teacher's orchestra and is good. I am not and a loser just like dad. Losers shouldn't be alive. They are nobodies and not good enough. It's what my mother says. I think she is a nazi. The nazi the teacher told us about. She does the same. People fear her will always fear her. She says I'm a loser too. Once a loser always a loser. No one cares about losers they are a burden. That's why no one asks for me. Everyone needs someone to blame for what goes wrong. Loser or scapegoat it's the same. Jesus was one too. He did cry for his dad I won't. Mine doesn't care about me. No one will shed a tear if I am gone if I am dead.
Will a jump outside the window kill me? I don't think so and I know what she will say: You are such a loser. You cannot even kill yourself! You are just like your dad!
Am I? Am I like my dad? Did loves himself, he's an adult and can leave. He has his driver's license and there are people who like him. His mom cares about him. His family knows how my mother is and they will help him to escape.
They won't help me or want me. I will not die if I jump out of the window. No wild animals will tear me in pieces. My head will not hit a stone or rock and if so I survive. I will not be the lucky one because I survived each time she pushed me off the stairs, kicked and beat me up, used the whips and dog chains, all those times she strangled me.
She needs to hate me and I need her to kill me. It's a matter of time. The only way to get out of here. There's no happiness inside of me. The sadness will leave too. I stopped crying. As soon as she attacks me I leave. From a distance, I see how she attacks my body. My ugly body likes she calls it. Dad will not come to rescue me. The housekeeper will not. I begged her once but she drove away. Left me behind crying on bare feet on the street.
I see my friend in black. He waits just like I do. He's the one who shows up in times of need. No false promises.
A glance outside tells me it's a grey world outside. People are inside. Perhaps they eat. Perhaps there are more children like me. Beaten, scolded at while no one cares. Some of them believe the empty promises. Promises give hope and can keep you alive but not me. I do not want to live. How can I ever grow up with this? All those memories, my broken body? What if I will do what she does?
September 28, 2021
I believe it is Tuesday again. How long can a person be sick? Will someone ever ask about me? Will someone read my diary? The last one who read it was my mother and she destroyed it. Since that time I keep two. This one and the fake one. I hardly write in the fake one. There's nothing to write about. Perhaps I should? I could use it so she kills me fast. I could ask her. There's no need for her to see my ugly face. Not that she spends time with me. She never takes me to school, gym or the hiking club and she no longer takes me to doctors or the hospital. As life was still normal it was bedtime at six pm and on punishing days at five.
October 5th, 2021
It was ventilating and cleaning day. Cleaning me, the bedsheets and my room. I had to take the sheets off my bed. Vacuum the mattress on both sides and turn it.
Next, she sent me into the bathtub. The water was hot but I don't care. Hot is better than cold. She left me behind to wash myself, wash my hair. I don't know how to do that so I laid down in the tub to make it wet. My hair floated around me. My hair can't drown but I can.
The bathroom has a very small window underneath the ceiling. I could see the grey sky and heard nothing. Did life outside stop or is it still early?
I heard the vacuum cleaner. Is she vacuuming my room? I washed myself, couldn't help peeing in the tub. It hurt and looked like a dark cloud.
She entered the bathroom and saw it too. She blew a fuse pulled me by my hair and slammed my head on the bathtub yelling I am a filthy rat. "I kill you, I kill you! You destroyed my life!"
And I? I saw him and smiled. I smiled and couldn't help smiling. The words of the fury did not touch me.
October 8, 2021
"Do you know what day it is?"
It was dad who asked me. He stood in front of my bed.
I frowned and thought: why me? How can this be?
My throat and nose felt soar and dry. My head banged and my eyes hurt.
"It will pass. Drink something."
He pointed at the table next to my bed and left. He left without setting a foot closer to me. He did not hand me over the water or help me.
I heard him say something to someone down the hall. I heard him leaving the stairs. I heard the front door and the car. Grandpa's old Mercedes. Dad left and he didn't come back.
The day? No one told me the day. Not yet. It's silent outside and it's dark. It can be early or late. Is it Winter already? I keep my arm closer to my face. My hand and skin are so wrinkled. It looks like the skin of a very old person. I can hardly move my fingers. What happened, when did this happen to me? Do I have to stay in here forever?
Today it is...
October or November or?
A kid's diary
I am a burden
Thor fights back
Me being born made her hate me
They scare me