Gone for an eternity!

I don't know what happens. Everything is gone. That's all I know right now.

It's not the darkness I'm used to. No, everything is light. It's like sitting in a white ball except that it isn't round. Or like sitting in a white room apart from that it isn't squared. Hm... It's hard to explain.

It's been like this for a long time now. I would have said an eternity, but I'm sure I'm just overreacting.

I wish I was back in the street. Knowing that Jasper like me is a good feeling. But he is gone, and I'm sure I was just dreaming.

Well, now that I can't do anything but wait, I can probably introduce myself. You know, since I haven't got time earlier. Well, my name is Mary Alice, something you knew but… anyway.

My little sister is named Cynthia and she absolutely love to see me annoyed or sad. She is 9 years old (borned in June 1926) and for some – have to say 'strange' – reason, mom and dad think she is always the kind, little girl in the family who does everything right. She's calling me Mary all the time. Something I hate, and she knows it. That's why she does it, you know.

Mom and dad also call me Mary. Once, I asked them why. The answer was that they didn't like middle-names. I was about to throw a comment right there, but I caught myself before I could say anything. They've always told me that a proper girl does not talk back. My sister isn't a proper girl, if that's true.

I was always wondering from that day; why did they even give me a middle-name if they don't like them. That's stupid of them. I've always wondered why they hate me when my sister doesn't do anything right.

Now I'm tired of this white 'room'. I've never liked white. Not colors either. I like grey or black. I am the fashion girl mom and dad wants me to be, though. I really love to take makeover on my mom or find outfits for her (except that she doesn't thank me afterwards), but I don't like doing it on myself. I'll wear things mom says I have to wear, but she let me put together outfits.

Well, more about me; I have dark blue eyes. Everyone says they're deeper than the ocean when you look into them. I've got short, black hair. I'm told to be small for my age. Both my sister and I are small. I like to have my own style and that's maybe the only reason I'm popular at school.

I don't know why I'm not popular. I don't want to ask either. It would seem weird if someone asks you why they're not one of the school's 'celebrities'. Then I'd just be less popular. My sister is buying popularity. I would never be allowed to do it, but dad and mom is the one who's paying for her. They give her money so she won't be plagued or bullied.

So you see; in my family, nothing is fair for me, but compared to the rest of the world, I'm very lucky. I have a home, I have my own bed, and I have a whole life in front of me.

Many people in other countries aren't even that lucky. I feel like I just can't realize that sometimes. I've always thought that I am the only person in the Universe who got a life this bad, but many people got it worse. And no-one is realizing it.

Well. This is boring. Just sit here and know that I can't do anything. I think I've told you everything about myself already, so what can I do?

I wonder if that last sight was just a dream or a real sight. I hope it was a sight – even though I hate sights – because I really, really, really want Jasper to like me. He was so cute. And he told me twice that I was beautiful. But even if he really likes me, there would be problems; my family. I will never be allowed to speak to him. even when he is never so nice to them.

I hope I'll see him again. If it's even in my sights.

I hate sights. They're in the way of my real life. I'll never remember them if I don't write them down. That's why I bought you, my little, black sight book (actually a diary but it's not about what happened a special day, but about what happened in my sights to future).

The sights aren't always real. The future can change. I hope my future won't change.

The funny thing now is that I don't have you in front of me. If I don't write this down, I'll just forget it.

I have a awful feeling that something's wrong: that someone's doing something they're not allowed to do.

What… what's happening?

…