The Big Bad World

This is my story. Or, sort of my story, at least. Told through the eyes of Rachel Bennet, this is the account of one girl's experience of life, and how sometimes life can start just when you think it's all about to end. I've adapted events of my life and woven them into this, starting at the age of 12 and continuing to the age of about 17, and follows the various struggles that growing up brings, and how invaluable having a simple thing such as a diary can help provide a small place of solace from the big bad world. All names have been changed.

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3. 4th October 2010

Dear Diary,

I couldn't do it. It was too much, I just couldn't. I was fighting tears the whole morning and I let some fall on the way to the bus stop, but when I got there and the bus pulled up, I just...I couldn't get on it. My mind felt so heavy and laden with emotions and anxiety that school seemed the worst place in the world to be. I couldn't face talking to people, forcing smiles pretending it's all ok, trying to concentrate in lessons that mean nothing to me, eating in front of people, letting teachers down when I haven't done the homework because I was too distracted by my mum's boyfriend walking out on us...

Oh yeah, so that happened. Again. Mum picked me up on friday and I could see she'd been crying, so I got her to pull over a little way up the road and she burst into tears as she told me that Sam had left, for good this time. The thing is, no matter how many times he's done this, the pain and betrayal I feel each time feels like the first time. And even though I feel angry at him, my immediate response was to cry. A lot. We must have sat in the car for at least ten minutes like that, me leaning into mum and her choking out apologies through her sobs; a scene that seems to be repeating itself a lot in the past two years.

Apparently he'd been building it up over the past few weeks, little things here and there until something one day triggers the fall- this time it was mum forgetting to tell him that I was staying late to go to creative writing club. So he packed up some of his things and walked out, saying he'd had enough and he never wants to see any of us again.

The weekend was horrible. Mum trudged along with her smudged mascara and bloodshot eyes trying to put on a brave face but not succeeding very well. More than a few times I heard her crying in the bathroom when I walked past, and I hated him for it. I couldn't believe after everything she's done for him that he'd throw it all back in her face like it was nothing and walk out on her, like she was nothing. Like we were nothing. Naturally, Maggie doesn't really understand what's going on (being five years old, I don't expect her to), she just keeps asking when Sam's going to come home. Mum says he isn't, but I'm willing to bet it's just a matter of time before he comes crawling back with his tail between his legs. But that doesn't' make it any easier to deal with in the meantime.

The weekend had just drained me emotionally so much (and physically after getting very little sleep) that come this morning I just didn't feel ready to face the world yet. Ben got on the bus and it pulled away before he realised I wasn't on it, and he spent the whole morning rushing around trying to find me and borrowing his friend Tim's phone to call me, but I was crying so much I was barely aware of my feet taking me home, let alone my phone ringing.

I felt so bad for causing him that stress. He doesn't really get on with Sam that well, they've had quite a few arguments with Sam insulting our dad, and Ben defending him. Not to mention Sam's overbearing need for control that grinds especially on Ben's nerves. So while he's obviously affected by this situation, he's more angry than upset, but still I shouldn't have worried him like that. I got a real telling off from mum when I got back home, too. Well....she was angry I could tell, but she didn't yell; I don't think she had the energy in her to.

It's now later than is healthy for a twelve year old to be up writing in her diary, but I can guarantee sleep will still elude me if I try to nod off. Mum says I can't let this affect my school work so I have to go in tomorrow. The thought of it makes my stomach turn over.

So much for emotional stability....is it too late to be a Vulcan..?

~R x

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