by AnonYMous
P.S. I got the loveliest of all letters from Joel and he can’t wait to see me. I didn’t tell him that that’s the way I feel too but I’m sure he knows.
September 17
Wouldn’t you know, I got my period! Now I’ll be self-conscious about that too! I wonder if Mother would be upset if I bought Tampax instead of just plain Kotex? She probably would be, so I guess I’d better not take the chance — but it really does mess things up for tomorrow night. Oh, I guess it really doesn’t matter. I can always wear my new plaid pants and my new top, but it really is a drag. Oh, well, there’s nothing I can do about it, so I might as well be cheerful. Right?
Nite.
September 18
I looked at the sky this morning and realized that summer is almost gone which really made me sad because it doesn’t seem as though it’s been here at all. Oh, I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want to get old. I have this very silly fear, dear friend, that one day I’ll be old, without ever having really been young. I wonder if it could happen that quickly or if I’ve ruined my life already. Do you think life can get by you without your even seeing it? Cripes, it gives me chills just thinking about it.
(?)
Boy, am I a dummy! Tomorrow is Dad’s birthday and I had completely forgotten it. Tim and Mom planned an outing, just for the family, but I was so wrapped up with Fawn and the rest of the kids that they didn’t want to bother me with the details, which shows you who the creep is around this house. Oh well, there’s no point in kicking myself about it. I’ll just have to think up something super special for Dad and surprise everyone.
See ya.
September 19
Mom was right. My premonitions about Fawn’s party were completely ridiculous. It was great, great, great. Fawn’s parents are really nice and all the kids there are the really great ones. Jess _____ is going to be next year’s student council president and Tess is the girl’s president and Judy and just everyone. I remember a year ago thinking they were a bunch of dull squares but now I just hope they’ll give me another chance and not bounce me on my head.
I suspect if I were really mature I would accept the fact that sooner or later someone is going to start talking about my being picked up even though it was simply ages ago, and then every nice kid’s parents will tell them that they shouldn’t spend any time with me because I will ruin their reputation. And every nice kid will wonder what I’m really like inside, and if they hear that I was in a mental hospital, I can just imagine what will go around in their heads and out their mouths! You’d think with over 900 kids in this school I could swing from one side to the other, and I can if they’ll let me! Oh, I can! Please, please let me!
Maybe I should really be honest about it and tell Fawn and her parents. Do you think they would understand, or would it just embarrass us all? I know sooner or later I’ve just got to tell Fawn about the hospital. She’s already asked me about my hands and I just don’t feel decent about lying to her anymore. I wish I knew what to do. If I had someone who knew how to handle these things I wouldn’t have to sit here in my bed and worry you and myself. They could just say right out, “You should do this or that.” I’m sure Mother and Dad are even more uncertain about these things than I am. They tried to keep it as quiet as possible, and I’m not sure any of their close friends even know what happened. Why is life so difficult? Why can’t we just be ourselves and have everyone accept us the way we are? Why can’t I just be me as I am now and not have to concentrate and fume and get upset about my past and my future. I hate never knowing whether tomorrow I’m going to have Jan and Lane and Marcie and all the rest on my back, sometimes I wish I had never been born.
I wonder what nice Frank would think if he knew about the real inside me? He’d probably run like a scared rabbit or immediately think he could get anything he wanted, and he’d want only one thing!
I do wish I could sleep. Isn’t it weird how sometimes time goes so fast you can’t even keep up with it, like it’s been going the last two or three weeks. Hours and minutes and days and weeks and months merge into one another in a flashing blur. Dad’s birthday is today and tomorrow is mine. A hundred years ago, I’d probably have been married by now and out on a farm somewhere begetting children. I guess I’m lucky things don’t happen quite that quickly these days. But in any case, I’ve got to start behaving and thinking more like an adult.
Later
Oh, this afternoon I ran out and got Dad a sleeveless sweater. I’m sure he’ll like it because he saw something very similar in Mr. Taylor’s window and said that it would be just perfect for the office when he doesn’t want to wear a coat. Now I just have to finish the poem and at least I’ll have done something right. I wonder if life is as explosive and confusing to other people. I hope not, because I really wouldn’t wish this mess on anyone else.
I wonder if they’ll include my birthday party with Dad’s tonight or if they’ll have a separate one later? Two birthday cakes in one week might make everyone sick.
Gee, another birthday! I’ll be almost an old woman, at least more than half way through my teens. It seems only yesterday I was a child.
September 20
I barely had my eyes open when Frank called to ask me out for tonight but I told him I would be busy with my family the whole weekend. He seemed disappointed, but I think he believed me. Anyway I can smell a whole vat of bacon cooking downstairs and I’m so hungry I could eat my quilt.
See ya.
P.S. Dad’s birthday was super! Everyone was so close and warm and we had such a wonderful time but I’ll tell you more about it later.
P.P.S. He loved the sweater and my poem. I think he liked the poem especially because I wrote it for him personally. He even blew his nose when he read it.
Later
Everybody’s downstairs plotting and the whole house is filled with mouth-watering fragrances fit for kings and exotic princesses. I wonder what they’re doing. Mother and Tim and Alex wouldn’t even let me come in the living room. They told me to go right upstairs and take a bath and set my hair and not to come down until I was the most beautiful creature in the world. I don’t know how they expect me to manage that but it will be fun trying.
Later
You will never, ever guess what happened! Joel was here! I knew he was registering late because of his job but . . . Well, I still can’t believe it. The meanie. He’s been here four whole days and he was actually down in the living room when I came home this afternoon wearing my old cut offs and Daddy’s oldest sweat shirt covered with white paint. He said when I dragged up the path, he was almost ready to turn around and go back to Chicago; thank heavens I changed into my white dress and new sandals. He couldn’t believe I was the same person. Tim and Dad laughed and said they’d had to tie him to a chair to make him stay after he saw me the first time.
It was a fun, fun night, and I’m sure they were kidding, I hope! Anyway, when Joel saw me he kissed me right on the lips in front of my whole family and hugged me till I thought my insides and backbone were crunching like potato chips. It was lovely even though it was a little embarrassing.
They had been planning this all summer and I thought my birthday was just going to be sort of leftovers from Daddy’s. Instead of that it was the nicest one I’ve ever had. Joel gave me a white enameled friendship ring with little flowers all over it and I shall wear it until I die. I have it on right now and it’s truly lovely. Mother and Dad gave me the new leather jacket I’ve been wanting and Tim gave me a scarf and Alex made me some peanut brittle, which Daddy and Joel and Tim ate to get even with me for eating most of Dad’s on his birthday. Funny little Alex, she can make better peanut brittle than either Mom or me, and she knows it and won’t tell us what her secret is, maybe it’s just because she’s so sweet and part of her rubs off on the peanuts.
I only got to see Joel alone for about ten minutes when we sat on the porch steps before Dad drove him back to wherever he’s staying. I even forgot to ask we had so much to talk about
but I’m sure he likes me in a quiet, soft, gentle, permanent, lasting way. We held hands most of the evening, but that didn’t mean too much because Alex was hanging on to the other one and Tim kept trying to drag him off to show him all the things he’d collected over the summer.
Well, if I’m going to get up and practice at six and face tomorrow I’d better get some sleep. Besides I want to dream about lovely today and how much more lovely every day after today is going to be.
September 21
I woke up even before the alarm went off. It’s only five minutes after five and I doubt that anyone else on this block is up, but I am so wide awake I can barely stand it. Frankly, I think I’m scared witless inside about going back to school but in my head I know it’s going to be all right because I have Joel and my new super straight friends and they’ll help me. Besides I’m much stronger than I used to be. I know I am.
I used to think I would get another diary after you are filled, or even that I would keep a diary or journal through my whole life. But now I don’t really think I will. Diaries are great when you’re young. In fact, you saved my sanity a hundred, thousand, million times. But I think when a person gets older she should be able to discuss her problems and thoughts with other people, instead of just with another part of herself as you have been to me. Don’t you agree? I hope so, for you are my dearest friend and I shall thank you always for sharing my tears and heartaches and my struggles and strifes, and my joys and happinesses. It’s all been good in its own special way, I guess.
See ya.
Epilogue
The subject of this book died three weeks after her decision not to keep another diary.
Her parents came home from a movie and found her dead. They called the police and the hospital but there was nothing anyone could do.
Was it an accidental overdose? A premeditated overdose? No one knows, and in some ways that question isn’t important. What must be of concern is that she died, and that she was only one of thousands of drug deaths that year.
Endnotes
1 There are no dates for the following material. It was recorded on single sheets of paper, paper bags, etc.
1 drugs
2 Baby prostitute
3 Detention school
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Go Ask Alice taken from “White Rabbit,”
written by Grace Slick.
Copyright 1967, Irving Music, Inc. Copper Penny
Music Publishing Co., by permission, all rights reserved.
Go Ask Alice
Author anonymous
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ISBN-13: 978-0-6898-3249-9 (eBook)
