I was flipping though my diary and I found an entry from 1970. Here is an actual entry:
Things can’t really get any worse now. I haven’t had any letters from my mother in England. Mrs. Mercury is canning me and my grandfather is throwing heavy objects at me. Gangs of teenage boys are dragging young girls into the flex bushes to rape them.
I have to be really careful while I am out collecting firewood. Sometimes I tell my grandmother that I don’t want to go but they call me lazy. It is truely unbearable and I really can’t take any more. Today I wrote in my diary that I want to go to sleep and never ever wake up.
I really want to die and I feel so weak and hopeless. Some folks have said that my grandmother isn’t strict enough with me so my mild mannered grandmother has decided to get a piece of stick and hit me. This was totally out of character for her as she has never hit me before. I grabbed the stick out of her hand and broke the stick. She told me that I was a bad girl and that she would be writing to my mother in England to tell her how bad I was. Nothing mattered and I just wanted to die. Now everyone has turned against me. My grandmother wants me to do work before I go to school like boiling the water, cleaning the Kitchen and sweeping the yard.
I just lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling and wish I was never here.