November 12
11:09 p.m.
My mom told me to clean my room. So I painted my nails. I now have four coats of metallic purple on my fingers and a tickle-me-pink slap mark across my face.
I close my diary and put the cap on my pen. I hadn't eaten all day and was as hungry as hell. I turn around when I hear the door to the bathroom that my five-year-old sister Lilly and I share. Lilly stands trembling in the doorway. I beckon for her to come inside when I see that she is crying. Without saying anything, I know that she has had another nightmare and wet the bed.
I stand up and take her little hand in mine. Hand in hand, we walk to my dresser where I kept extra nightgowns for her. She changes her clothes while I change her sheets. When I get back to my room, she is sitting in the floor with her legs pulled into her chest and is rocking back and forth while crying to herself. I walk over to her and pick her up. She buries her head in my shoulder and I stroke her hair while she hiccups and cries. Eventually her breathing becomes slowed and rhythmic and I tuck her tiny body into my bed. Seeing her look even smaller and helpless asleep then she did awake almost made me want to cry.
I tread quietly down the stairs, partially not to wake up Lilly, and partially not to attract the attention of my mother. As if I'm not in deep enough trouble as it is. I've conveniently memorized the floor so I don't have to turn on the light. I carefully open the fridge. The only things semi-edible in there are an open can of beer and a half eaten bagel. I opt for the bagel, but change my mind when I see that there is mold on the cream cheese.
I sigh quietly. I'll have to go to the store tomorrow morning before Lilly and my twelve-year-old brother Jason (who I referred to as "Squirt") woke up. Good thing tomorrow is a Saturday. I close the door and sneak back upstairs to my room. I lay down next to Lilly and fall asleep almost instantly.
