20 November

I hate my School Captain, Wendy Fonseca. I'll tell why on some other occasion. As of now, I am frustrated...

I can't even get a room to sleep. When there is an empty room, there's no lock on the door and these stupid people just come stomping inside. There's no privacy. Everyone should do as they say. Like, what the hell?

Mummy keeps yelling at me, she verbally abuses me. At least, there's one thing to be relieved about - the beatings have stopped. I no longer have to wipe furiously at my cheeks on the way to the bus stop.

But seriously, it's getting too much. Mummy keeps making me do all the household chores. I ask, "But Sandra can do it!" and she angrily retorts, "Sandra is busy." It is pitiful that I, the daughter of the house, have to do the all the work while the house-help is 'busy'. No, I don't have studies and captaincy duties. Yes, Sandra listening to my Mummy backbitch about me is work. Amusing, right?

Whenever I ask her a question, Mummy never gives a straight answer. It's always a taunt. So much so that looking at her, even Junius and George have started talking badly to me. Even Sandra does that. And Mummy's siblings - aunt Veronica, aunt Brenda, uncle Malcolm and uncle Ned -  participate whenever they can.

So much so that aunt Brenda never scolds Junius, not even when she filthy mouths me. It's bad for kids her age to use those words and aunt Brenda - her mother, of all people - should know that. But if it's me, all goes.

Uncle Ned's wife never scolds George for hitting me. And God knows how the five year old got so much strength that he can bruise my arm in a single punch. Maybe I'm weak, but then I always have been...

I was weak when uncle Malcolm hit me for losing that kindergarten potato race. I was weak when Mummy hit me for not coming first in the Maths Olympiad. I was weak when I cried when Junius said that about my father. I was weak when aunt Brenda tried to choke me to death because I hadn't come out to greet the guests at a dinner party, even when I'd pleaded that I had to study for the Geography exam the following day.

They always say, "You're always wrong." At  times, I feel that Mummy is just bearing with me because she gave birth to me, not because she loves me or anything like that. Ugh! I wanna go and ask someone to adopt me. Give me a break!

I'm one messed up girl.

Here, at home, I feel the tears pooling in my eyes at the smallest of things. I am made to feel that Mummy faced what she did because of me.

Even she leaves you to go to work. So why should we take care of you? Your own mother doesn't bother. Why should we? Why should we give you medicines or food; we'd want to devote that time to our kids. (Aunt Brenda)

And the sad part is that I've come to understand that what Junius said that day was true. She was right - I am responsible for this mess. I have come to terms with my family members hating me. It's not okay, though. I'll have to live with it...

But I can do something... Yes!

I must leave this bad place asap. Either join a hostel or a job in a different city and live in the one of the company's apartments - I'll have to do that after high school.

My thought process wanders off at times to forbidden shores. All this is happening because I'm a girl. Had life been different if I'd been born a boy? Surely it would've. And my father would've been a part of it too.

In future, I'd like to give a motivational lecture, or a speech, somewhere. I would say that:

End gender discrimination. Stop making a girl's life hell. Give them their space and don't confine them to your bloody, mad, emotionless houses.

And I hope that people would stop doing this to other girls, blood-relations or otherwise.

Oof! Too much serious thoughts today. Hoping as usual that no one from the Linton household finds this.

Marley Linton

P.S. I'm in California for a wedding. I miss New Jersey. Californian weather doesn't suit me; my skin has become so cracked and itchy. But the city is beautiful! I'd love to visit again, at the cost of my appearance.