Dear Diary, Dear Death
Dear Diary,
My family left today on an adventure! We are going west! However, I’m a bit worried about the supplies we packed. Will we have enough food? We took everything, but the food we grabbed seemed a bit lacking. Perhaps father forgot about the little one in mother’s tummy.
No matter, I’ll share! The mood as we left was a bit worrying though. No one was happy and I got the feeling that it was my fault but I don’t know what I did.
Dear Diary,
Today we traveled even further and father thinks it will only take us one week to get to the next small town. Although that was the only thing he said today. This silence is so gloomy and depressing but still I don’t know what’s wrong. I can’t ask though because with this type of mood, the chances of father getting angry at me are very high, so I won’t speak until someone else does first. That’s the way girls should act. It will all be okay in the end. Father knows what he’s doing. It will all be fine.
Dear Diary,
It’s not fine in any way. Everything is going wrong. What would you do if you were told that the heavy rain we received will keep us from being able to stop in the next town? Just because of that rain, our wagon has gotten stuck a few times already, and we almost got left behind. Everytime the rain stopped, father got down from the wagon and helped the horses pull our cart along. No one said a word and we continued, the mood seeming all the more gloomy with the rain.
Dear Diary,
It’s been a week since we left, and the whole trip is off to a rough start. Mother, father, and sister are all fine, but brother caught a cold from the rain. We had a stroke of luck this morning finally. They had cleared the mud from the front of the village, and we were welcomed in as travelers. We had to camp outside though because the town didn’t have enough supplies for us to stay inside. However we stocked up with food. Father still didn’t get enough this time. I wanted to tell him, but I felt that the mood still wasn’t right to speak. The only sounds coming from our tent that night, were the coughs of dear brother.
Dear Diary,
I am feeling a bit under the weather today as well. Just a slight headache, I’m sure it will pass, just as brother’s cold did. It’s been awhile since I last wrote. I am so bad at remembering things like this and being responsible. We have been on this trip for one month now. It’s been two weeks since I last wrote, and the mood in the wagon has only improved a little bit. I’m starting to worry about them all. I‘m scared but I can’t say a thing. Not now. Not with feeling in the air. I wonder why I can’t remember the cause of their anguish. I’m so confused about the reason why I caught my mother crying a day ago. I don’t understand why my jolly father could be so grimm. And why is dear sister always curled up in a ball on the floor of the wagon. Their pain makes me hurt. I don’t know any more...
Dear Diary,
It’s been another week now. Nothing has changed. I’m bored of the same scenery, the same upsetting mood. Brother is acting weird too. He just sits there all day staring at the floor instead of talking with me. The concentration he has while memorizing every grain on the wagon floor, is really starting to scare me. He has never ever been so focused on something for days like that.
Dear Diary,
Another two months have passed. Still somethings wrong Are they mad at me? I get that feeling. It’s all my fault, I know that, but I can’t remember. I’m missing some memories. What happened right before we got on the wagon? Why are we taking this trip, leaving behind just about everything. In fact, we didn’t even grab most of our clothes. So why are we doing this? Taking this journey to the west as I’ve heard. And what is with this silence. It has gotten better at least in the past two weeks. Just a bit. Father played his fiddle a few nights ago. The song, though, was not his usually uplifting piece. It was sad and even more depressing. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did. Did I hit my head? Is that why I can’t remember anything about this problem?
Dear Diary,
Only two days since I last wrote but it feels like two weeks. What’s wrong? Do you know anything? Have I unknowingly gone crazy? Yes that’s it, that has to be. That must explain why they ignored me today. But wait. Who’s crazy? Me? Or them? They just ignored me. I spoke up today. Broke my father’s rule about being quiet. Seen not heard. But who cares. I asked them a question, and it hung there in the air. Just as though I was talking to myself.
Dear Diary,
Help me. Please. I don’t understand. What did I do? No matter what I say, no one answers. Not even other people from other wagons. I never stray far, just enough that I can be away from my family, the one I thought loved me. Far enough to talk to someone else who might answer. But no, I might as well be thin air. Another week on this trip has gone by.
Dear Diary,
One month later and I’m feeling better. I heard a conversation today and I think I’ve solved my problem. But I still have some questions. Like why am I going on this trip too? And why haven’t I left yet? How can I still write to you? I guess I pretty much accepted the truth though. And I believe that when we get halfway there, it will all be over. That’s good. I’m ready. I have two weeks left.
Dear Diary,
This is the halfway point. It’s all set up now. I can see the end of this trip for me. Good bye. Good bye everyone. I love you all. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet the little one. I would have loved a baby in the family. Maybe they will help you forget your pain, mother, father, sister, and brother. And thank you. My family, you are all so incredibly kind, taking this trip for my sake. This was exactly the kind of adventure I wanted. Thank you.
The body was placed in the grave and the mother finally cried her last tears. A man came up to the group huddled around the grave.
“She lived a good life I’m sure, with parents willing to leave everything behind just to grant her final wish.”
The sad father looked up.
“All she wanted was a little adventure. Spent her whole life cooped up, bein’ sick an’ all ya know. Sure this did the trick. Quite the adventure it was for sure. Can’t say I think she would have enjoyed it with us moping around an’ all”
“I’m sure she would have been so thankful you did this for her. Can’t help the moping around now can ye.” The man smiled kindly and left the family of now only four and a half to finish mourning for their lost daughter.
My family left today on an adventure! We are going west! However, I’m a bit worried about the supplies we packed. Will we have enough food? We took everything, but the food we grabbed seemed a bit lacking. Perhaps father forgot about the little one in mother’s tummy.
No matter, I’ll share! The mood as we left was a bit worrying though. No one was happy and I got the feeling that it was my fault but I don’t know what I did.
Dear Diary,
Today we traveled even further and father thinks it will only take us one week to get to the next small town. Although that was the only thing he said today. This silence is so gloomy and depressing but still I don’t know what’s wrong. I can’t ask though because with this type of mood, the chances of father getting angry at me are very high, so I won’t speak until someone else does first. That’s the way girls should act. It will all be okay in the end. Father knows what he’s doing. It will all be fine.
Dear Diary,
It’s not fine in any way. Everything is going wrong. What would you do if you were told that the heavy rain we received will keep us from being able to stop in the next town? Just because of that rain, our wagon has gotten stuck a few times already, and we almost got left behind. Everytime the rain stopped, father got down from the wagon and helped the horses pull our cart along. No one said a word and we continued, the mood seeming all the more gloomy with the rain.
Dear Diary,
It’s been a week since we left, and the whole trip is off to a rough start. Mother, father, and sister are all fine, but brother caught a cold from the rain. We had a stroke of luck this morning finally. They had cleared the mud from the front of the village, and we were welcomed in as travelers. We had to camp outside though because the town didn’t have enough supplies for us to stay inside. However we stocked up with food. Father still didn’t get enough this time. I wanted to tell him, but I felt that the mood still wasn’t right to speak. The only sounds coming from our tent that night, were the coughs of dear brother.
Dear Diary,
I am feeling a bit under the weather today as well. Just a slight headache, I’m sure it will pass, just as brother’s cold did. It’s been awhile since I last wrote. I am so bad at remembering things like this and being responsible. We have been on this trip for one month now. It’s been two weeks since I last wrote, and the mood in the wagon has only improved a little bit. I’m starting to worry about them all. I‘m scared but I can’t say a thing. Not now. Not with feeling in the air. I wonder why I can’t remember the cause of their anguish. I’m so confused about the reason why I caught my mother crying a day ago. I don’t understand why my jolly father could be so grimm. And why is dear sister always curled up in a ball on the floor of the wagon. Their pain makes me hurt. I don’t know any more...
Dear Diary,
It’s been another week now. Nothing has changed. I’m bored of the same scenery, the same upsetting mood. Brother is acting weird too. He just sits there all day staring at the floor instead of talking with me. The concentration he has while memorizing every grain on the wagon floor, is really starting to scare me. He has never ever been so focused on something for days like that.
Dear Diary,
Another two months have passed. Still somethings wrong Are they mad at me? I get that feeling. It’s all my fault, I know that, but I can’t remember. I’m missing some memories. What happened right before we got on the wagon? Why are we taking this trip, leaving behind just about everything. In fact, we didn’t even grab most of our clothes. So why are we doing this? Taking this journey to the west as I’ve heard. And what is with this silence. It has gotten better at least in the past two weeks. Just a bit. Father played his fiddle a few nights ago. The song, though, was not his usually uplifting piece. It was sad and even more depressing. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did. Did I hit my head? Is that why I can’t remember anything about this problem?
Dear Diary,
Only two days since I last wrote but it feels like two weeks. What’s wrong? Do you know anything? Have I unknowingly gone crazy? Yes that’s it, that has to be. That must explain why they ignored me today. But wait. Who’s crazy? Me? Or them? They just ignored me. I spoke up today. Broke my father’s rule about being quiet. Seen not heard. But who cares. I asked them a question, and it hung there in the air. Just as though I was talking to myself.
Dear Diary,
Help me. Please. I don’t understand. What did I do? No matter what I say, no one answers. Not even other people from other wagons. I never stray far, just enough that I can be away from my family, the one I thought loved me. Far enough to talk to someone else who might answer. But no, I might as well be thin air. Another week on this trip has gone by.
Dear Diary,
One month later and I’m feeling better. I heard a conversation today and I think I’ve solved my problem. But I still have some questions. Like why am I going on this trip too? And why haven’t I left yet? How can I still write to you? I guess I pretty much accepted the truth though. And I believe that when we get halfway there, it will all be over. That’s good. I’m ready. I have two weeks left.
Dear Diary,
This is the halfway point. It’s all set up now. I can see the end of this trip for me. Good bye. Good bye everyone. I love you all. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet the little one. I would have loved a baby in the family. Maybe they will help you forget your pain, mother, father, sister, and brother. And thank you. My family, you are all so incredibly kind, taking this trip for my sake. This was exactly the kind of adventure I wanted. Thank you.
The body was placed in the grave and the mother finally cried her last tears. A man came up to the group huddled around the grave.
“She lived a good life I’m sure, with parents willing to leave everything behind just to grant her final wish.”
The sad father looked up.
“All she wanted was a little adventure. Spent her whole life cooped up, bein’ sick an’ all ya know. Sure this did the trick. Quite the adventure it was for sure. Can’t say I think she would have enjoyed it with us moping around an’ all”
“I’m sure she would have been so thankful you did this for her. Can’t help the moping around now can ye.” The man smiled kindly and left the family of now only four and a half to finish mourning for their lost daughter.