“I KNOW YOU CAN.”
Then you’re so stupid, I don’t know why I even talked to you about something so serious. You don’t have a sissy clue!
December 24, Sunday
Christmas Eve
3:30 p.m.
Mom’s gone to church. She asked me to go with her, but I feel so dirty and unworthy, there’s no way I could. I said I don’t feel good. I guess that’s accurate enough in the sense that I don’t feel good enough!
I’m sorry I talked to you the way I did last night. I guess I was just trying to cover my own guilt and dirtiness by cutting you down. Forgive me?
“Sure.”
I guess you’re the only true friend I’ve got left. I’m not really comfortable with Liz and Demi, and Danny’s other friends. I go with them sometimes because he doesn’t want me to go with Jenny and Molly and Deanna. He calls them “Baby Chicken-shits.” It makes me so mad, I want to hit him, but I know what would happen if I did!
Anyway, now at Christmastime I’m feeling so bad and sad, when always before the season has made me feel glad and excited. Is it just because I’ve grown out of the little kid, Santa Claus stage, or is it because…am I committing adultery? Since I’m not an adult and married, can I commit adultery? Can’t you help me? I know you can’t because …I don’t know why because. But I do know, committing adultery is one of the “do nots” in the ten commandments. I looked that up in the encyclopedia when I first saw the movie.
How can it be that this is almost Christmas and I should be feeling “Joy to the World,” when actually I’m feeling that life isn’t worth living?
7:30 p.m.
NOW Christmas is really Christmas! Mom answered the door and it was guess who? Danny! She asked him in, and he was so polite and dressed up, he looked like the Prom King or something. Anyway, she invited him in, and he introduced himself and talked politely to her for a while then gave me a big gold-wrapped package. I started to unwrap it, and he slapped my hand gently and playful. “Mrs. Murphy, make her put it under the tree till tomorrow morning.”
We all laughed, and Danny acted shy as he left.
“I think some nice young boy’s got a crush on you,” Mom said teasingly as she hugged me.
I hugged her back, not ever wanting to let go. I’ve been treating her so rudely for the last few months that I don’t know how she can stand me. Why she doesn’t send me to the “people pound”? If she only knew what that “nice young boy” was really like and how he had changed my life!
11:07 p.m.
Mom and I made chocolate chip cookies and ate them practically as fast as we pulled them out of the oven; then we curled up in front of the fireplace on the floor and watched the lights twinkle on the Christmas tree and saw a Christmas movie on the VCR. It was like the olden days when I was a little kid, and I wanted it to stay that way forever.
December 25, Monday
Christmas Day
2:13 a.m.
Time has stopped dead in its tracks. Hurry, hurry, hurry. I want it to be morning so I can open Danny’s present and of course Mom’s, but most of all, DANNY’S! What in the world could it ever be? Mom let me smell it and shake it and pinch it a smidge, but she wouldn’t let me tear the paper the littlest bit.
10:21 a.m.
At 5:?? a.m. I simply couldn’t stand it another second, so I tiptoed down the hall and crawled into bed with Mom, like I used to do with Mom and Dad when I was tiny. She snuggled up close, snorted, and pretended to snore, until we got the giggles; then we jumped out of bed and raced in by the tree just like in the long-ago fairy-tale days of our life.
Guess what was in the big box? A smaller box, then a smaller box, and a smaller box after that, until it was getting so small, I had one moment of wondering if it was going to be just a sick, hurtful joke.
“Open it, open it.” Mom laughed. She could do that because she just knew the outside Danny.
With trembling fingers I ripped away the last bits of heavily taped paper and there…I’m crying all over you…was the sweetest little plain bracelet I had ever seen. On it was inscribed, beside one little flower, which looked something like a cross between a dandelion and a rose (but maybe that was just in my eyes), anyway, it said, “HI, FRIEND.” Enough, huh? More than enough!
It’s a good thing I didn’t know where Danny’s grandma lives (he and his Dad had gone there to spend a couple of days); it I had, I’d have been on the phone in a minute.
7:45 p.m.
Christmas was gentle and sweet. I went to service with Mom and truly, truly, deeply, deeply repented while I was there, but…I don’t know how long that’s going to last; maybe if I’m very, very lucky, I can make Danny see all the wonders of…I dunno…those things are pretty hard to put into words.
December 31,
Sunday New Year’s Eve
9:15 p.m.
Mom’s going to a big New Year’s Eve party with some of the school people she works with because she thinks I’m going to spend the night with Jenny. I hope nothing horrible happens that makes her have to call Jenny’s because Danny and I are going to spend our first New Year’s together. I know Jenny will lie for us if she has to.
January 1, Monday
New Year’s Day
10:59 a.m.
I’m so weak, I can’t believe it! I tried for about one minute to be straight and virtuous, then the music and the energy and the beer and…other stuff, took over.
“Who let them take over?”
Oh, SHUT UP your pages. How could you know how enticing those things are?
“I know.”
No, you don’t! You couldn’t possibly have the least inkling!!!!!! I’d been away from Danny for so long, even I couldn’t believe the animalistic powers and urges I had.
“What about the ‘Vow of Chastity Until Marriage’ you made with the Bible Group when you were on the outing? And what about all those promises you made when you went to Christmas service?”
Excuse my tears, but they mean I’m a weak-kneed, lying, lily-livered, flopping fool with no control…no morals…no ethics…and that. that…
“That what?”
I’ve gone so far I’ll…never…be able to come back.
“Don’t close the page, Annie!…”
I have to.
January 4, Thursday
9:49 p.m.
Danny sees me only when HE wants to see me. We do only what he wants to do when he wants to do it. I wanted him to come to my soccer game in Santa Marina, but NO he has things to do with the guys. I’m getting pretty damn sick and tired of the way he treats me. It’s the shits. And he lies to me—I wonder if he just lies to me about some things—or about everything! Can he possibly know or care how insecure and unimportant he often makes me feel?
January 6, Saturday
12 noon exactly
I sneaked out last night and we partied till I sneaked in about 2 a.m. Danny was so good to me that he wiped out all the bad feelings I’ve been having. I guess I’m really selfish expecting him to be perfect. Someday when we’re out of high school and in college, he’ll be mature enough to put my things a little higher on his category list. I’ve got to be patient and accept and appreciate the wonders of him, and I don’t most of the time. I just hope someday he’ll do the same for me.
I worry a little because Danny doesn’t have, or doesn’t want to wear condoms and…you know how I sometimes can’t remember if I’ve taken my pill or not. I think I do, and I usually do, at least most of the time I do, but it’s such a dumb, everyday drag.
Think I’ll go back to sleep. I feel like shit.
January 8, Monday
9:45 p.m.
Danny and I cut school for the whole day and went bird-watching. It was awesome with us hiking and pretending we were shipwrecked on a deserted land, and the only two known people alive. Actually, after we’d eaten the lunch I’d brought, we broke boughs off a big old, dead oak tree and made ourselves a little hut. It was a fun and an exciting Robinson Crusoe-type adven
ture. I loved it! Loved it! Loved it! I wish we didn’t ever have to go to school ever again, that we could just do things like that every day.
January 13, Saturday
9:20 a.m.
I’m sooooo happy, I think I’m going to die. Last night Danny and I saw an old, old movie at his house. It was the dearest, cleanest, most loving and gentle film I’d ever seen, about ethics and caring for each other even when things were down, and of course, it had a happy ending. We both agreed after it was over that we wanted our lives to be just like that, and they will be. I can feel it in my bones, whatever that means.
January 14, Sunday
9:47 p.m.
I know I haven’t been keeping you up on school stuff. So—both Danny and I have been in state runoffs: he in football, me in soccer. We’re like “ships crossing in the halls” or whatever that silly saying is. Anyway, Daisy, I need to talk to you. I know it’s dumb and all like that…and I don’t even want to think about it…but…well, I’ve missed my period. Now don’t go jumping to crazy conclusions; you know as well as I do that I’m sometimes irregular, and besides I take the pill…well, usually…and Danny…sometimes…oh, I’m just being dumb, dumb, DUMB; that couldn’t happen to me. Truthfully, though…last month…I just kind of spotted…but not to worry. WE WON’T WORRY! It’s going to be all right. Right? I’m sure it’s just because I’ve been so busy and under such sports pressure and stuff. In health class the teacher once said that stress could cause irregularity. WE WILL NOT THINK ABOUT IT AGAIN. AND FROM NOW ON, I’M GOING TO BE VERY, VERY, CAREFUL!!!!!!!
January 16, Tuesday
6:02 a.m.
Last night we were over at Tina’s. Mom thought I was studying late at the library. Tina’s mom works nights at Rhodies, so we had the house to ourselves. Danny and Kip were playing pool, and Tina and I were fixing some munchies in the kitchen, when suddenly she sat down and held her hands to her head tight. I hurried to help her and asked what was the matter. I certainly didn’t expect her to blurt out that she’d just had an abortion two days before, and she still wasn’t feeling too cool.
The words struck me like lightning, and all the pictures I’d ever seen in health classes flipped through my mind. Tiny little fetus babies smaller than your little finger, wiggling around and then…being killed…sucked out of you like they were…I couldn’t stand to think about it, and I started crying. Tina tried to comfort me but she didn’t understand that I wasn’t crying for her as much as I was crying for that sad little boy or girl baby that had just been thrown away like it was junk.
I couldn’t think about anything else all night long. Tina’s just a year older than I am, so she couldn’t have had a baby—at least she shouldn’t have, but—I don’t know…I’m feeling so lost and scared and lonely empty.
January 23, Tuesday
4:47 p.m.
It’s been a week or so since I told you…you know…but it’s maybe okay now because yesterday I started spotting a little. I’m so glad and relieved and SAVED! It was really scary—Tina telling me about her abortion right after I’d begun to wonder about…well, at least that’s over! I hope, I hope, I hope! I hate this being so irregular.
I’m going to do some serious mature rethinking about my life. I don’t like the filthy, trashy talking we do when we’re partying and some of the things that go on, like a few weeks ago when the guys were goading Tina and Kaytie to wrestle in their underwear, then trying to get them to wrestle nude. We’re not setting ourselves up as very good future-parent material.
I wonder how many of the girls beside Tina in our crowd have had abortions? They’re the cheerleaders and such that most other girls at school think they would like to be like. (If they only knew!)
I think I’m going to talk to Danny about making some changes in our lives. Maybe I should even think about…NO, I can’t do that; I don’t want to! I won’t! I’m not sure I could make it without him!
January 25, Thursday
8:26 p.m.
Mom’s at a school board meeting. I’m bored out of my skull. Schoolwork used to be fun and a challenge. I know I sometimes nagged and moaned and groaned about having to do it, but it still gave me a good feeling when I finished an assignment. It’s been a gloomy glucky day. I wish I could be with Danny, but the football team has been in a slump, and the coach practically has them living at the field when they’re not in school. I RESENT THAT, and I’m getting nasty and more mean-spirited about it all the time! I seem to be coming first on everybody’s shit list these days. It’s not fair; in fact, it’s a hell of a way to live; a shitty, hellish way.
February 10, Saturday
8:20 a.m.
Danny’s working all weekend.
10:17 a.m.
It’s about time for my period again, and I’m looking forward to it and counting the days like it was Christmas coming up, except not a happy Christmas, maybe the saddest and most somber Christmas of my life. Each day I’ve been becoming more morbid and I know that’s positively idiotic because…because what? I won’t think about it! I ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY WILL NOT THINK ABOUT IT. I WILL NOT!!!!!!!!!!
February 14, Wednesday
3:51 p.m.
What a VALENTINE’S DAY! I brought a sack lunch for two, and Danny and I ate at the bottom of the stairs behind the heat vent. He gave me a heart-shaped necklace and I gave him a heart-shaped key chain…AND I DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT ONE BIT…WELL, HARDLY ONE BIT. I wish I could talk to Danny about it…but why talk about it when I’m not even sure? Actually…
I know I’m not. I can’t be! I’m only two days late, and I’m not always regular, but…what if? Last month I only had spot bleeding. I think I’m going to put on my rollerblades and go way down to the other side of town where no one could possibly know me and buy one of those home test kits. I wonder if they have simple directions that stupid me can understand. On TV they seem simple enough for a primate to figure out.
4:15 p.m.
Danny called, but I pretended I was sick. I am sick!! I AM SICK AND SCARED AND TIRED OF ALL THE SHITTY SHITTYNESS IN MY LIFE!
5:10 p.m.
Mom has to go to the market, and as soon as I hear the front door close, I’m going to do it. Even knowing can’t be worse than this waiting. Ohhhhhhhhhh I am soooooooooooo scared, so white-knuckled, heart-in-my-throat, head-throbbing-like-it’s-going-to-explode SCARED WITLESS. Maybe it’s better if I don’t know. But what if? Oh, time, time, time pass. Mom get out, go, go, go.
6:01 p.m.
The complete bottom has fallen out of my world; the blackness of night and Satan and everything evil and scary in creation is pulling in on me. My tears bathe your pages in the sorrow and pain of the anguished. I CANNOT BEAR TO FACE IT! I WILL NOT! But
what else
can I do?
It was Pink!
I am sooooooooooooooooooo depressed and forlorn.
I would ask God to help me, but in no way am I worthy of calling on Him for help. I didn’t think I needed Him when I was out doing what I wanted to do without worrying, or even thinking about “consequences for actions.” NO, stupid me, I thought I could have all of life’s fun and games without paying any price, buying any tickets, taking any responsibility. What an asshole…See, I’ve allowed myself to become so comfortable with unacceptable language that I’m not even aware when I’m using it. What a liar and a cheat and a trashbin gutter guppie I’ve become.
I wish I had a…no, I don’t. Escaping with any of that stuff would just prolong the whole shitty…see, I’ve done it again, my mouth has become as corrupt as my body and my soul, whatever the hell that means.
How am I ever going to tell Mom? I’m going to have to tell her sometime. Will she cry? Will she scream? Will it break her heart? Will she want me to…leave…or?
Oh, I’m so mixed up, and I’m hurting with a kind of hurt I didn’t even know existed! It’s a million times more than when I had my hand slammed in the car door and had to go to the emergency room. Then I was writhing and screaming, and no
w it’s all that with mind, heart, religious pain, and guilt mixed in.
I DON’T WANT THIS RESPONSIBILITY! I’M ONLY FOURTEEN! I CAN’T HANDLE IT! It’s like I’m lost in an evil forest and there are monsters and beasts that I’ve never heard of, trying to get me. I want to be a little kid again snuggled up safe and warm in my mama’s arms, with no problems.
How am I ever going to tell Danny? I’m afraid to my bones, really, really afraid. I know he’ll scream at me…maybe…No, he wouldn’t hit me when I was…I can’t even say the word—
I once saw what a pressure cooker does when it explodes. That’s exactly how I feel, just one second from having my brains dangling from the ceiling and my lungs and guts plastered to the doors and walls.
But why am I being so damn morbid? Often those stupid tests aren’t correct! I better buy another one and try it again. Chances are I didn’t even do it right the first time.
6:12 p.m.
Mom thinks I’m going rollerblading. She warned me that it’s going to be dark soon, and I should be extra, extra careful so that something bad doesn’t happen to me. Something BAD? How much worse could it get?
6:43 p.m.
I’m back and I can’t believe how much this junk costs—$15 a kit, 2 for $30. ‘Bye-bye allowance! Won’t Mom ever go to bed? I don’t dare go in the bathroom to use these crazy things till I know she’s asleep, then I have to sneak down to the trash can behind the carports to dispose of the evidence.
February 15, Thursday
3:33 a.m.
Of course, you know the test was pink again! But please, please, please don’t dump on me! I’m about as fragmented as I can be without collapsing into a pile of dust. I wish I could do that! I truly do wish I could!
4:12 a.m.
I’ve cried until there are literally no more tears left in me, not one single one. I sob and sniff, and it’s like dry, hot, hard rocks tear out of my eye socket; not soft, wet, cool ones. And they’re like acid burning, stinging, flesh-eating acid.
7:0 a.m.
I guess I finally dry-cried myself to sleep because Mom has been pounding at my door for what seems like hours. It seemed like the noise was coming from a far-away other planet.