DEAR DIARY,
These are things that happened to me, cross my heart and hope to die.
It’s my ninth birthday and I should be happy. Instead, I’m in my room crying and I can’t stop. Old Jingles is dead, and I saw it happen.
My sister’s folded-up laundry is in a basket in the hall. She’s supposed to put it away. It’s part of her taking more responsibility and learning how to do things on her own. She’s smart but never finishes anything. She has been to two colleges and dropped out before she got her first set of grades. Our parents are upset about that, and my sister hasn’t found a husband either. She’s twenty years old and Dad says she’s a freeloader. Things have changed a lot in the past year. Some things happened that I don’t know about and now Mom and Dad don’t like my sister very much. One thing I know is that my sister hears people talking to her when there aren’t any people around. There’s been some talk about her moving out because she’s getting really funny. I don’t mean funny ha-ha.
My sister must have done something really bad because she’s supposed to be their darling, their favorite who is always right. But not anymore. Mom had this strange talk with me and asked me about the things my sister did when we were alone. I didn’t think it would do much good, but I answered truthfully. I figured I’d get punished, but she wanted to hear everything. Imagine that!
You know what, I think Mom and Dad are scared of her and they don’t know what to do. They feel guilty about it, though. I’ve been scared all my life, and I’m a little guilty, too. I’m supposed to love my sister.
Mom is going to have a baby soon. She looks like she’s carrying around a watermelon under her clothes. I hope it’s a brother, because I’ve had enough of sisters.
Anyway, the laundry is in a basket and Jingles jumps in and makes a bed. When my sister gets home, she’s really mad about him being on top of her laundry. She hollers and Jingles tries to sneak off to get away from her. Her face gets strange, kind of frozen, not like a person who’s angry but she’s saying angry words. I try to save Jingles, but she pushes me away. The second time she pushes me, I fall down the stairs and end up on the landing. My knee hurts a lot.
Mom and Dad hear the noise and come to see what’s going on. My mother shrieks and Dad says some bad words. Mom tries to get Jingles away, but my sister balls up her fist like she does with me, and punches Mom in the stomach. Dad steps in and slaps my sister in the face, hard. I’ve never seen anything like that before. She comes after him with her hands out like claws. He picks up a vase on a table in the hall and smashes it over her head. She falls down and lies still. Mother is on the floor, holding Jingles, but his legs are every which way. Dad comes over and says he’s got to do it and she says yes. Mom calls to me to close my eyes. I only pretend to. Dad turns Jingles’ head around and he’s quiet.
The silence makes me feel a lot better, even though I know he’s dead.
Dad picks up my sister and carries her to her room. Mom comes down the stairs to check on me. I’m okay; I just have a hurt knee. I’m not okay inside, though.
Dad comes along and carries me down the stairs. He puts me on the couch and Mom gets a pillow and some ice for my knee. I hear Dad on the phone. Mom sits with me and pats my hand. In a little while, our doctor comes to the house. That’s another thing I’ve never seen happen. He goes into my sister’s room and later talks with Dad in the upstairs hall. I can’t hear everything they’re saying, but I heard that the doctor gave my sister a shot. I hate shots. She deserves it. She deserves a million shots.
Dad brings me a bowl of ice cream, chocolate chip, and tells me that he’s sorry about Jingles. I want to tell him that I’m thankful for what he did for Jingles, but I can’t find any words to say it. So I just eat my ice cream. Mom helps me up the stairs and into bed.
When she’s gone, I start crying.
I’ll never, ever forget my ninth birthday.