If you keep a diary you have to write every day. Is a diary still a diary if I write once a week or a month? Sailor, captains write daily. I wonder if it is to kill time or more like the black box of an aeroplane. No one really cares about you, your day, what you did or who hurt you only if something goes wrong. You need to be famous too. The police don't care about children like me. The police are not your best friend, doesn't protect you or cares about justice. These are all slogans used in commercials on the telly. They are looking for recruits. Police, army these people are corrupt, corrupt, paid by rich people like my mother. Doctors aren't different. They ignore bruises, never ask where it all comes from, how it happens. They ignore me and my mother says I am clumsy. She's the foxy, famous lady while I'm the ugly, inelegant duckling never satisfied with what she has.
I walked the kilometres with the blue-white flag. I sang the songs while we marched on and tried not to vomit in the bus. More wasn't in it.
I know I am not like the other children. I have no friends, no one likes me because I am not a happy child. I have nothing to be grateful for. Should I be thankful for all the fear and pain my mother gives me? Should I say thank you for all the stress, me being sick, the bruises, wounds and parents who hate me? They don't make a secret out of it. They say they hate me.
Unwanted children suffer and this is the fault of parents. There's no need to have a child. There are pills to avoid it. Take pills, use condoms or don't have sex. How difficult can that be?
People are sadists. They like to see others suffer. Children are the favourite objects because you don't need to pay them and there's not as much chance they fight back.
As the bus arrived I slowly walked back home. For longer, I stood in the dark in the alley behind our house. At the back, I can't see if she is home. Not that it makes any difference there's no place to go. I can't say I hey, I'm going to buy a package of cigarettes and leave forever. It's what men do. Men like my dad.
Sint Nicolaas arrived. I saw it in the news. If you are a good child you receive something if you are bad... Well, I'm bad, I'm beaten up the entire year. My only hope is to be put in that bag and taken out of here. If Piet asks or the Saint I'm not going to promise to behave. I want out of here, away from the bad people who would be happy if I disappeared because I make them feel miserable.
Saturday
November 13, 2021
I had candies in my shoe. The shoe I left next to my parents'. My mother sang happily the songs she knows. Dad never sings these songs. He knows he's not a good person. My mother doesn't care. She believes she is perfect. If you believe you are nothing can go wrong. She doesn't care about how people think about her and if she blames it on me. I'm her scapegoat. That's what children are good for. Being the scapegoat for the sins of the parents. God must be a screwed up person himself but that we already know. God is a serial killer. One who gets away with it. He lets good people die and breeds criminals. Criminals he made after his example.
Sunday
November 14, 2021
The only good thing about Sint Nicholaas is the shops look better. Piet is outside and people look happier. I can put my shoe before I go to bed. There's always something in it. I can eat the candy there are no restrictions if it comes to candies. Perhaps because I have good teeth, perhaps because she always eats candy. Candy and chocolate.
Monday
November 15, 2021
The truth is I can still not count. I need my fingers. Those tables of content I don't understand and never will. If I use my fingers or a piece of paper I can though. So what does that say about me or does it say something about the teachers? Shouldn't a teacher teach and find a way to make you understand how it works? I can't picture it. My brains can't cope with tables.
Tuesday
November 16, 2021
I wish my bedroom wasn't so cold. I hate it to get dressed in a cold room. Grandmothers toilet and house are always cold too. Just the living is warm. With us, the central hear is switched off at night. In the morning it has to be switched on. There's a thermostat in the living but I'm not allowed to use it without permission. Explicit permission from my mother. My mother is the boss in the house. Those who have money reign. That's why she's the queen and people hate or avoid her. She doesn't care because she knows they need her. Sooner or later they have to call her unless they move away.
Wednesday
November 17, 2021
I wonder what the point of the housekeeper is. To answer the phone? We have an answering machine so that can't be the case. To clean the house? I doubt it because it's cleaned before she arrives and after she leaves at 5 p.m. it's done again. The housekeeper is a bad cook and never lets the dogs out, brushes or feeds them. She doesn't do the shopping or takes care of the garden and most laundry goes to the laundromat. My mother vacuums the house. We have three vacuum cleaners. One for upstairs, one for the carpet on the two stairs and one for downstairs. Stairs I vacuum too. It all needs to be done very precisely. If you don't follow her rules or she's in a terrible mood she makes you do it again, and again and again and again while hitting you on the head and back. So it's me who makes the housekeeper's life easier. She's young but older than me. While she gets paid I do her job and am punished, beaten up because she can't work by the rules in the booklet. The booklet she wrote to make the life of stupid housekeepers easier. If it wouldn't be so sad it would make me laugh. She never does anything to make the life of me her stupid clumsy child easier.
If she opens her mouth my ears close. I can't hear her. I just see her pale furious face and always ask myself the same question: What does my dad see in her? Why do people find her charming, fall for her and her lies? People must be stupid and easy to manipulate. Men are the stupidest people around that's clear. It's not hard to see her true face or like in that song true colours. True colours aren't just positive. Monsters come in all shapes and colours. White isn't good. My mother is an example of that and so are god and his son Jesus. White people who are fine with child abuse, aggressive molesting parents.
Thursday
November 18, 2021
Same old story, same old song. Bullied at school, bullied at the gym, bullied at home. About mean children they say they shouldn't behave childishly. What are parents who misbehave called like and what about teachers? Someone said people are not bad but have a lack of courage they are not brave. Adults always find reasons for their bad behaviour. Justifications, small excuses, lies, hey, it wasn't me the devil made me do it. They always have a scapegoat. If not the devil, it's the witch or the ugly child.
Friday
November 19, 2021
I'm not the only ugly duckling around. My mother says this is what my grandfather said about his daughter, his only daughter. I don't know if this is true. I never met my grandfather. He was a soldier. If it's true that man was a bad father and it's his fault. My aunt has his DNA so he can only blame himself for her bad looks. I don't meet this aunt frequently. My mother hates her and I think she doesn't like my mother. They studied together. Something happened long ago, back then.
I wonder if this aunt is happy. She lives far away and far away is the safest place to be. I think my mother will come after you if she knows where you are. She's a bad loser. As bad as my dad is if you play the goose game with him or that other game 'mensch ärger dich nicht'. My dad is a loser. My mother is right. He married her for money and does as she tells. He's like that Faust guy I saw on the television on a Sunday with my parents.
Saturday
November 20, 2021
I hear the wind. A furious wind. Not through the trees like in the Saint Nicholaas song but on the roof.
It's still early but I have to get out of bed. Sunday is the day of rest and that's why I have done all the work before my parents leave for church and I go to Sunday school. It makes sense right? Day of rest and working yourself to death or being beaten to death. I don't see the sunny part of Sunday. The God of the sun must be mad. I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed and made breakfast. Sunday is breakfast on the bed for my parents. I wish they were dead both of them. Perhaps the sun can burn them or the wind can blow them away and they drown in the sea.
Sunday
November 21, 2021
I wish I had parents like Ellen. Hers look old. Her father has a very crinkled face worse than Saint Nicholas. Her mother I think is older than mine too. She's fat, old fashioned dressed but kind. Kind and warm if she wraps her arms around me. She's how a mom should be a real mom. Ellen is an only child. She has a nice room. They have a telephone with a jacket. I never saw a phone with a jacket. Her dad's car is funny too. It's called a beetle Ellen says. I like the white beetle and I like Ellen too. I don't understand why she always laughs, looks so happy. I never feel that inside of me it's dead but I'm happy for her.
She says her father can die because of this illness called sugar.
Monday
November 22, 2021
Praise the lord they say. I don't know why and don't see any glory. It sounds like a bad commercial to me. I like the AEG commercial more. A stressed mom left behind in a messy home. She collects the dirty laundry from everywhere. While she hurries she falls over toys and off the stairs. On her back, she slides through the hallway while she holds the basket with dirty laundry. Her feet end aginst the washing machine which runs. AEG won't let you down they sing and that mom looks happy. She has a dirty house and family she can't count with but she has a washing machine.
Tuesday
November 23, 2021
I set my shoe again before I went to bed. My mother gave me a carrot for the hose. I put down a bowl with water too. She said I should put my wish list in it. I don't have wishes except for this life to end. Can I ask the Saint to kill me? If he's a good person he can grant my wish. No one needs me, no one likes me. My mother hates me and her life would be better without me. She no longer needs to scream and yell at me. She can save herself a lot of money without me. She has a room left, dirty ugly me with the crinkle in her head. My death is a win-win for all of us.
My aunt said if something bothers you you can cut it off. She said it about a painful toe. I am that painful toe to my parents and they are for me. Cutting off sounds fine to me. There isn't anyone or anything I would miss. I will not miss the pain. All that awful lot of pain will be over.
Wednesday
November 24, 2021
No gymnastics today. I had the extra singing for school. I can't sing well and have no idea if the other children can or the teacher but it's better than being bullied at the gym in the dressing room. I never shower there. The shower and dressing room smell terribly. Sweat, smelly shoes. I don't think this place is very hygienic. At home, I take a bath. I wash twice a day and have two towels. Each day two clean towels and clean clothes.
Thursday
November 25, 2021
So today in a week the Saint will visit my school. That won't take too long. I didn't write a wish list but will put the drawing I made at school in it. I can write best wishes next to it. I can write not draw or sing or walk and am bad if it comes to the gym. I am ugly, hated and not a funny person to have around. If the Saint's helper hears and sees everything there's no need to write down my wishes. He knows and if he knows he can do something about it. Everyone listens to Saint Nicolaas even my mother. Saint and black Piet never make her angry. So this is the safest and best time of the year.
Friday
November 26, 2021
