Dear Mother

Marisol is a young 14 year old girl, who keeps a diary, addressed to her dead mother, everyday for a year. Her last year. This is the tale of a young girl who has the words to change the nation, and the imagination to create another world. But her life isn't all full of wonders. People are out to get her. And we managed to find a copy of her diary, and now is here, for all prying eyes. This is the emotional heartfelt diary of Marisol Wynter...

**This is all fictional, and made up by me, Sophie**


2. 16th December

Dear Mother,

Today is Friday, and almost the weekend! I rather enjoyed school today. In English we were writing a story, and I made my one about a little girl called Sapphire, and I gave her a cat called Bluebell, and she had a piano and sang songs. Father made me an extra special dinner tonight! We had a very big roast chicken with parsnips and carrots and mashed potatoes. It's a change from soup and frozen things. I remember you used to make nice little dinners and puddings. My favourite was the yorkshire pudding and gravy. We don't have that anymore. I asked father for it once, but he just looked into the distance and remained silent. He never talks about you. If I say your name, he leaves the room, or tells me to be quiet or something like that. I think it's silly, because if we don't talk we'll forget. But I don't think I could ever forget you.

At school today, Harris was back and him and Tom were making fun of me again. But I ignored them. At lunch, I sat on my own on a bench under my special tree. I watched other children playing and laughing with their friends. I've always wanted a friend. Someone I can laugh with and share secrets with. We could dress up and pretend to be someone else. We could go on adventures together and write stories, and even sing songs together. I once asked a girl called Milly if she would be my friend, but she just laughed in my face and said something rude, so I daren't ask anyone else. You were my friend, mother. You were my best friend. Don't worry, I don't think I will ever replace you. Never, ever, ever.

I was watching my favourite cartoons on the tele today, mother. Remember you used to sit with me and watch them too? Well I watched them again, and pretended you were still there, and laughed at the funny bits and pretended to talk to you about the rubbish storyline. I felt like you were there, and for a minute I felt like you gave me a cuddly cuddle. But I only imagined it.

I'm sorry this is such a short entry, mother, but I will write more tomorrow. I'm tired and my eyes are struggling to stay open.

Marisol xx

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