*teardrops = ------- 

"November 1.

Today is the worst day of my entire eleven year old life. I'm crying right now, as you can tell with the tear splotches on the pages of my journal.

Dad used to call it my diary, but now I'm calling it journal because I can't dare even write his name down anymore. I knew he never loved me when we found out I was a witch.

If I recall his words correctly, they were "Of all the children in the world we had to give birth to this one."

I was listening to Momma and his conversation that night, and I can't believe he would say that. But after we found out about my "disease," as Dad called it, he never treated me the same.

And it's not like it's a bad thing! Sure it's not ideal, but that's no reason for him to react like that.

Now I'm sitting in my room, praying for mom to come home, rubbing the bruise that throbbed on my chin from my father's hit. I was downstairs, minding my buisness  when suddenly our rickety kitchen table collapsed. Dad jumped up and swore, before marching over and hitting me. 

"YOU WITCH!" He screamed. "YOU DID THIS!"  I trembled and raced upstairs, leaving him drunken and stumbling. This hadn't been the first time this had happened, but I didn't want to tell Mom about it because there would be another fight. 

I just want her to come home. 

January 30th

Okay, I lied. Today is the absolute most horrifying day I've ever experienced.

A couple days ago Mom found out Dad had hit me, and that night they got in a HUGE fight. But not as big as this one.

I can hear them now; Momma's screams of "YOU NEVER LOVED HER!" And Dad's screams, swears and curses and Momma's sobs of "Richie don't do this."

All because of me. At school today the bully Agnes took my lunch, and I hadn't eaten dinner of breakfast yesterday because Momma and Dad were downstairs fighting and I didn't want to ask for it.

I knew if I told a teacher I would be bullied even more, so I just sat there ------- slowly getting faint.

Then I passed out and 911 came and took me to the hospital, and I was okay again. Except when Daddy saw the hospital bill he flipped out and drove home, leaving Mommy and me at the hospital.

When we got back home------ Daddy was packing his suitcase, like he did every time a fight happened.

I knew what would happen; he would rent a motel, stay for a week and then come back, Mommy and him would fight and then it be over.

But not this time. Mommy's wedding ring was smashed on the ground, and Daddy was looking at me with a hate I'd never seen ------ before.

He said, "Get out of my sight. Your not my daughter." And Mom and him fought again. But this time it was so bad; broken plates, words I can't right down------

Then I heard Mom yell, "THEN GO!" And Daddy swore, slammed the door, and drove away.

I don't think he's coming back.

I knew Daddy had some " issues," as Mom had told me, but I never expected this.

And now he's gone.

Because of me and my 'disability.' Because I'm not his daughter, because I ruined his life-----

It's all my fault, even though Momma's magic to.

The only thing I was proud of he stripped away from me. Now I'm without a father, which I will never admit.

I will not continue to make excuses for him, like I always have when he breaks endless ----- promises.

When he doesn't show for birthdays.

When he doesn't come for projects or plays, or leaves me at my friends house because he forget to pick me up again.

And then I have to shamefully tell my friend's mom, and she'd sympathetically call Mom, and she'd come, and my 'friend' would spread the secret around school...

I will not be bullied anymore because of him.

For now on he'll be dead; died in a freak accident. I'll convince mom to let me do it, and feeling bad she'll say yes.

What has been written down here will stay here and never be read again.

It is the end of an age, and hopefully things will get better.

But I don't think they will.

...

April 17

I've found out that Dad has already moved on from me. He has a new wife and two new children. He wrote me a letter, which I am currently burning. It says:

Dear Morgan,

I am happy with my new family. I think you would really like Nina and Holly my daughters. Holly loves books like you do. You should come visit sometime. You would also love my wife Hannah.

-Richie.

Not an apology. Not an invitation. He's rubbing it in my face; he doesn't even sign as Dad.

And the saddest part is that I was the one who wrote him a letter begging him to come back in the first place.

This is his response.

Silence. I closed the book, trembling as I gazed up at the crowd around me. They were staring at me with wide eyes and dropped jaws; not even Steph was expecting that.

No one had known before that Morgan had once had a Dad; she always said he died when she was eleven. She even joined the therapy group at Hogwarts for shocking incidents.

Suddenly everything had changed, in the short span of less than five minutes.

Mutters rose from the crowd, and slowly eyes turned back to the last row of chairs, where the guest of honor sat.

Morgan.

She sat still as stone, her eyes betraying nothing. She didn't even try to stop me as I read.

My heart quickened as I caught her gaze, her eyes locked in mine.

Was she sad? Mad? I couldn't tell. Suddenly Steph's exaggerated gasps ended as Morgan stood up, and the room turned silent once more.

Morgan's face was expressionless, and she pushed through the room of people to me, pinning me to her gaze like a fly to a wall.

When she approached me she stared at me for what felt like a minute before she grabbed my hurt arm, a small smirk on her face.

My eyes widened as she twisted it backwards with incredible strength, and I let out a gasp as I felt the bone crack.

Then she grabbed her diary and stared at me once more, watching me as I knelt in anguish, bent over in pain.

"I learned that trick from my father," was all she said before walking out of the common room.