Disclaimer: The main characters don't belong to me, but the rest does.

Dear Diary,

My cousins. Ugh.

I will never understand how two people as nice as my aunt and her husband managed to come up with kids as bratty as Charlotte and Joe.

I mean, Charlotte isn't that bad when you get to know her. If you look at how she treats strangers, she's comparatively nice to me. I'm sure that her excessive vanity really stems from deep-rooted insecurity. But still.

In the morning, she blocks the bathroom for a full hour (I timed it) just for makeup. I think that makeup is great - in fact, I wear some myself - but an hour is pushing it a little bit, don't you think? Especially when she has six large mirrors in her bedroom. (But apparently, the lighting is better in the bathroom.) Never mind the fact that there are five other people in the house who care about their personal hygiene.

Also, she talks about other people like they're cattle. She evaluates other girls solely based on their physical attractiveness - I'm pretty sure she wouldn't talk to me if I were fat, or ugly. Also, I think maybe it's because she's more comfortable with me, since I'm family, but she says the most awful things about her close friends behind their backs. (She probably tells them that I am boring little prude.) As to boys: she talks about them as if she were talking about hunting game.

Okay, rant over. She may be a terrible person, but she's friendly enough to me.

Now, let's move on to Joe.

I swear that kid is the creepiest, slimiest twelve-year-old I have had the misfortune to encounter. (Why do we have to be related? WHY?)

He may look like a little angel, but inside, he's really a dirty old man. His dimpled smiles and big blue eyes distract adults from the fact that he spends his days leering, groping, and whispering lewd suggestions to everything that wears a skirt. Every time I stay at my aunt's house, I put masking tape over the peep-hole of my room's door. I couldn't be more glad for the fact that he's small for his age, and that I could probably crush him if I wanted to. He's getting taller, though… Let's just pray he doesn't grow up to be a Ted Bundy copycat!

Despite their kids, my aunt and uncle are genuinely wonderful people. My aunt Hilda met Alexander Valerius when he was a teaching assistant for one of her classes in college, and now they are the happiest couple I know. Maybe the reason they don't notice that their kids are sociopaths is because they spend so much time lovingly gazing into each other's eyes. Awww.

Christmas is the day after tomorrow, so I spent the whole day helping my aunt in the kitchen.

I guess the only interesting thing that happened today is that Mr. Destler called me a half hour ago.

I didn't recognize the caller ID, so I was a bit nervous, but I answered anyway.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Miss Daaé."

Obviously, that could only be Mr. Destler.

"Good evening, sir."

Silence on the other end.

"Hello?" I repeated.

"Ah, yes… Miss Daaé, I just wanted to check in with you to see how your voice was doing."

Sweet of him.

"My voice is fine - thank you for asking!"

Awkward silence.

"And… how is yours?"

"My voice?"

"Yes?"

This was quickly turning into the most awkward phone conversation I had ever had.

"My voice is good. I just -… wanted to make sure you were covering your throat, not shouting too much, and… drinking enough liquids."

"I am, thank you. My aunt is a health nut, so I'm in good hands."

"That's nice to hear."

"So - how is your vacation so far?"

"Good - very good. I read that book you got me - "Till We Have Faces". It's really quite brilliant."

"Isn't it? I think it's crazy how C.S. Lewis seems to to know everything about the inner workings of the human soul. Reading his books is like… looking into a mirror. Right?"

"Yes! That's what I think too. I have to say, it even makes me feel a little uncomfortable sometimes."

I laughed.

"What else have been doing? What do teachers do for fun?"

"I -… I've been doing plenty of things. Music, mostly. And other things."

Poor man.

"Well, music is the best! Sorry, I - I have to go…"

"Oh…" He sounded disappointed.

"But - tell you what - if you're not too busy - call me again tomorrow. I'll probably be locked in my room, far from my cousins' clutches, and desperate for some normal company."

"Of course! What time?"

"I don't know… Around nine o'clock!"

"Great! Wait. I mean, let me check my agenda."

Pause and paper rustling.

"Yes. That, um, should work."

"Good night, then!"

"Good night!"

Poor Mr. Destler. Maybe I shouldn't complain so much about my family after all.