Nothing? Everything? It depends on who you speak, what you believe but one thing’s for sure names do not all sound the same. Not to the ears of humans and not to the ears of animals. It’s the same for foreign languages. If we are not used to the accent what sounds romantic or sweet to some can be harsh to others. Personal ideas, feelings based on life experiences or (dis)likes influence how we feel or think about a name too.
If you have time listen to what is said here. It’s meant to be funny by the way. Try to hear what is said about certain letters. It makes sense certain letter combinations sound louder than others. It takes more power to speak (in the example given spit) them out.
Do not take what you just heard seriously. You can still say ‘teacher’ instead of ‘neacher’. Louder sounds of letters or letter combinations do not spread viruses faster but some of us may spit more. If it comes to that: a disease caused by a virus will not be spread by people without symptoms. Being tested with a PCR test with a positive result proves nothing. If you do not feel sick you are not and no threat to others. Louder pronounced letter combinations also sound more like guttural gurgles and more unfriendly, especially if we are not used to them. A name with hard or deep guttural sounds does not sound friendly. Such a name may be good for a dog like a Doberman or Rottweiler but is not necessarily suitable for the average man let alone a small child.
A name is not always chosen carefully or with love. Being named after grandpa or grandma is not always appreciated. I know all about that. Having a boy’s name when you are a girl or a name that is suitable for each gender feels so wrong to me. I have bad experiences with that too and after all these years, my ugly names still annoy me and make me feel unhappy. I should have changed my name when I could still afford it. Nowadays, apart from asking the king’s permission – as if the man cares – you need to pay about 1000 euros and wait for months if it’s possible at all. I find it unpleasant to be constantly compared with someone else and a name that doesn’t sound good and doesn’t feel like mine. I am named after my grandmother but the church always asks if I am my grandfather. My grandfather a man who died nearly 60 years ago.
For me, there is a lot in a name. A name should be unique and fit the person or one should at least have a positive ring to it. If you believe there’s something into a name and care about the meaning of a name you can investigate what is written about your name(s). There are many books published about names and their meanings, and the internet has plenty of information too. You can even find overviews of how often a name is given each year in a country.
Naming a child after a celebrity is more common nowadays than naming it after the grandparents. Those who name their children after someone have a certain thought in mind about the person in question and likely hopes their child will resemble or be associated with this person. After all, everyone likes to share in the success and positive thoughts about a celebrity and nobody wants to be compared to a dictator, the brand of a toaster or the municipal waste collection service.
If it comes to animals: When your pet hunts you down in the house, attacks and bites you and you have named him Hunter, it is time for a change of name. In this case, the name Hunter was changed to Hunk. It took time and energy to re-educate this animal but it was worth it. Hunter went from being aggressive to one of the most affectionate and sweetest animals I ever met. Who calls her pet Bitch should not expect too much from it. The word, toning does not sound nice and it will certainly not be pronounced like that. Bitch sounds bitter, short-tempered and in this case, the animal behaved that way. You could say there was something in that name. This pet needed one too, a sweet name to have a fair chance to be liked.
Will we ever get used to foreign names? Names we would never give our children or which we associate with a dictator, terrorist or someone we look down on or would rather not be reminded of? For longer the name Adolf wasn’t popular although children were named Dolf (Adolf without the A) which still sounds strange to me.
I don’t know what exactly happened but my grandmother was disappointed in her brother. This wasn’t for a small reason since she tolerated more than most people. As a result, she felt bitter about naming her son after him. Perhaps the son started to look too much like his uncle? I do believe unconsciously, the one who is named after someone starts comparing himself with that person. You need to be aware of your name, be alert not to fall for it. It’s easy to copy certain behaviour once growing older. After all, it is human nature to profit from the good name and fame of others. If the celebrity you are named after is in the spotlight, you as the namesake feel automatically more seen and heard.
How did being the namesake of my grandmother work out for me? You would think that with more than one name, l have a choice, but that was not the case. None of my names is beautiful, and I’ve never felt comfortable being called by my grandmother’s names. My names never felt as if they belonged to me. I already had the feeling that all the bad things were coming for me. My grandmother only just survived the concentration camp and suffered pain for the rest of her life. To me, it felt as if the curse that rested on her – the heavy, humiliating, deathly ill life – was passed on to me together with her names even though she was strong, a fighter, did not let herself be silenced. Despite all the setbacks, didn’t she allow herself to be belittled. No matter how bad things were, she tried to get the best out of her life, even if it was far from easy. Would she have preferred a different name? I never asked. It may be that she eventually grew into her names or that she simply did not care because those who knew called her mum, Mrs. or granny.
Out of bed at 6 am and cleaning my room. Why do I have to push the bed in the middle of the room and lift all small furniture on it every day so it’s easier for her vacuuming? Just like me, the vacuum cleaners in our house never has a day off. It’s 6 o’clock and I’m already super tired. I didn’t sleep much and don’t think it will get any better. My mother kept screaming and I tried not to hear her. It’s hard. The walls are not keeping her voice out. I can hear children playing outside, my mother’s car if she arrives in the street, the neighbour playing drums and Bart making music. He lives next to our neighbours. If I can hear all these sounds people can hear her too. Breakfast with my parents at seven, breakfast in silence a choking silence. I’m never allowed to speak so that isn’t new but usually my parents do. I should say my mother is. She’s the one who talks, talks, talks, repeats herself and repeats herself and repeats herself and tells you to repeat what she said which I can’t. So I keep my mouth shut which makes her furious. If I try to repeat what she said I can’t remember the exactly right words. The thing is she always says the same so after the first words I shut down. I close my ears and try not to hear her. I eat my bread and focus on my plate, on eating. I don’t want to hear her voice. She rattles on and on and on it’s always the same. How great she is, how ungrateful others are, blah blah blah.
Why don’t I have a normal mother? A mum like Ellen, Louis or Françoise has? A mother with a normal voice who lets you play with other children instead of punishing you for everything she can think of? I watch dad slicing cheese for his bread. If he doesn’t answer she will attack him. He never needs to repeat what she says. I wonder how auntie is doing. She no longer visits us. Will she go to grandmother if it’s Christmas? I don’t want to hear her voice but it fills the kitchen. If I close my eyes I hear that voice everywhere around me.
Why did dad marry her? Did she ever say a sweet thing or was it her dad’s money? Grandpa is dead. There won’t be money for him. He’s no family but the man my grandparents never wanted for their daughter. Dad doesn’t look very happy. Perhaps he will sing if he cleans the bathroom and kitchen? Her hand smacks me in the face. My head slams against the wall. “Are you sleeping again? Stand up, you lazy kid. No one is as lazy as you. Why don’t you comb your hair!” All I can do is stare at her. I have nothing to say. Whatever I would say isn’t good enough to make her forget her anger, make her like me. I try not to touch my face or head while I look her straight into the eyes. She looks at me, observes me, waits till I say something. She turns around abruptly and slams the door behind her. “Get up you’ll be fine,” dad says. He didn’t help me. He gave up risking his neck for me. “Let’s clean up the place before your mother is back.” He starts cleaning up the breakfast table and I go back upstairs. The rooms, stairs and hallways, toilet and living room are my task. No polishing shoes today. I don’t know who will vacuum since she isn’t there. If she comes back at the end of the day she’ll be mad because the house is a mess. That’s how she calls it a mess.
I don’t feel like cleaning. Everything is clean. I pile up the small furniture on the beds in each room. I clean doors and doorknobs and wipe the dust not a single person can see. In each room, I wait till the time is over. The time it takes to clean a room to her standards. I don’t hear her, I don’t hear her car. It’s silent till dad comes upstairs and starts singing while he cleans the bathroom. I clean the toilet. Tile after tile. Another door on which I’m not going to spend 33 times scrubbing on.
How many times did I step outside to knock the dust out of the duster?
The living room is the only place where furniture can remain at its place on Saturdays. It’s clean like always. The Christmas tree is still outside. Will she be back to decorate it? I sit on the floor and wait. My head hurts. I touch the spot. Blood. She’ll be mad if there’s blood on the furniture or carpet but I have to lay down. Dad comes downstairs and I hear him enter the kitchen. Later I’ll tell him I finished my tasks. I like to listen to the sound of the clock. Dad sings again.
Dad told me to help him to set up the tree in the living and he put the lights on. The smell of the tree fills the air. Shocked I was as I looked at the floor. A trace of needles everywhere from the living through the hallway and kitchen. “We’ll vacuum it before your mother is back, after that we get the boxes with decoration,” dad said. It felt as if he had everything under control and no longer cared about what she would say or do. “No hiking today?” “No, it’s vacation. Dad… I don’t want to go hiking ever again.” “I know.”
The day didn’t end too bad. The bakery delivered boxes with bread, cookies, cakes, a Christmas loaf and chocolates. My mother came home with bags with stuff she bought and decorated the tree. It took her hours because it has to be perfect. She made a mess again and vacuumed the living three more times. She didn’t say sorry or look at me. I stood there and watched her. Unsure if I was allowed to leave or had to wait for a new order. She let me put some ‘angel’s hair’ on the ranks. It looks nice but it hurts if you touch it. The tree looks beautiful all silver with white of the ‘hair’ and the yellow big candle lights. My mother knows how she has to decorate a tree, furniture a house and how to spend too much money.
Saturday December 18, 2021
I visited Sunday school and my parents went to church. If I don’t comb my hair straight you can’t see the blood on my head. It’s cold so I wear a hat outside. The teacher didn’t notice it.
Sunday December 19, 2021
No school, no housekeeper just me and my mother cleaning. To my mother, it’s an ordinary Monday. She works 24/7 and if she doesn’t work we clean. In the morning we start cleaning till she has to go. She leaves if someone calls her or if she visits people at their homes. She visits in the afternoon. A few evenings a week people visit us. Dad says he has things to do. He left.
I don’t like staying home during vacations. Vacations at home are good for more cleaning, scolding, whipping and pain. That’s all it’s good for.
In the evening I’m allowed to sit in the living and watch the tree. The living is for weekends only. I spend the most time in my room or the kitchen if I’m not at school and have to clean the house.
Monday December 20, 2021
The living is in the Christmas mood my mother isn’t. Her mood goes up and down. I’ll never know what she will say or do next. I don’t trust her and am glad I don’t need to share a bed with her like dad. If she kills him who takes care of me?
Tuesday December 21, 2021
On television is more Christmas spirit than at home. I’m afraid of my mother. She acts weird. Dad says nothing and stays in the little room upstairs. She keeps walking up and down while saying the same words over and over again. Can’t she just sit down for a moment and act like a normal person? I try to watch telly but it’s hard with her around. She can snap any minute. We didn’t have tea yet. I leave and hide on the toilet and try to think about what to do. I can put the kettle on and make us some tea. I go ask dad if he likes some tea. Back downstairs I fill the kettle with water and put it on the cooker and wait. I wait at the kitchen table and try not to touch more things than necessary. My mother always knows if something is touched, moved. It’s good enough for the next scene. Why is she walking up and down? Is she crazy? I fill the teapot and a dad’s mug. I’ll give him first before I ask her. Back in the hallway I no longer hear her voice behind the door in the living. Should I enter or drink my tea first? I knock on the door and carefully open it. She stands in front of the tree. “Mother do you want some tea?” She turns around stares at me as if I’m a stranger. “Yes,” she says and follows me to the kitchen. “Take some cookies.” We sit at the table and she pushes the wooden cookie box over the tablecloth towards me. The madness disappeared.
Wednesday December 22, 2021
Today felt like a better day. I read the book school gave me again and my mother was in a chocolate mood. She ate a lot of chocolate and butter cookies. Not if it’s coffee time or tea time but just so. I don’t like the butter cookies and chocolate she buys. It’s made by the baker. Grandmother’s chocolate is better. She buys small bars of chocolate with hazelnut or Koetjes bars (the wrap is blue-white with a cow on it). Always five wrapped together. I don’t think she eats them. It’s for the visitors, sometimes she gives me one. It’s the only sweet my grandmother has in the cupboard. My mother’s cupboards are filled and one huge drawer of the antique cabinet is for cookies, cakes, chocolate, pastries only. Perhaps her mother never gave her candy?
Thursday December 23, 2021
At 5:30 I’m out of bed. The laundry will be collected and the clean laundry taken back. We have enough sheets for at least twelve beds. My mother started the day in a good mood but halfway through the day, it changed after grandmother called. Tomorrow we will visit grandmother and the next day granny. Each year with Christmas it’s the same routine. Granny cooks too but we never had Christmas dinner with her.
At midnight we visited the church. It was crowded and I couldn’t sit anywhere. I don’t like to be in a cold church in the middle of the night and listen to a story I already know. A story about the hope for peace, love and light. Peace, love and light? Try to live with my mother for a week or better month and all the hope and dreams you had are gone. If you are lucky you get out sane. Jesus is lucky his mother isn’t like mine or perhaps he’s not. With a mother like mine you wish you were dead. If no one believes you, everyone is blind for what she does there’s no reason to stay alive. What is a lifelong scolding and beating worth? Even in church, I hear her voice. That voice is always in my head. It’s hard not to change into that man Norman Bates. He knows how it is if you can’t escape out of your mother’s claws. Jesus didn’t rescue either did god. It is as it is. If there’s a plan for everything it means God doesn’t care and he won’t come to your rescue. He wants you to suffer. I don’t believe that old man preaching. He says what they all say but never talks about real life, real suffer and pain.
Happy to be home back in bed even my bed is cold.
Friday December 24, 2021
Not much sleep. Out of bed at 6 am. Merry Christmas… I’ve watched a film on television. Grandmother doesn’t have a tree. Auntie and my new uncle came for having Christmas dinner with us. Soup, goose, dessert and coffee with apple pie. I like grandmother’s dining table and chairs. The legs are claws of an animal. We didn’t sleepover. My mother was angry and granny was too. Dad drove us back home. Tomorrow I will see granny. A long drive in the car again. The light of the star of Bethlehem in front of our window was on. Welcome home.
Saturday December 25, 2022
It was good to see granny is still alive. My uncle was home and another uncle came with his wife and children. I don’t really know them just my uncle. I like him most of all uncles I have. We ate nothing special but it doesn’t matter. I can’t eat much anyway. Again soup, rice and beans and meat and chocolate custard. We had coffee and cake and I helped granny do the dishes. I like her gas heater and watched it burn. No one talks to me. Uncle didn’t stay long. My other uncle can be a bully and hates my mother and the adults talk to or fight with each other. It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas or not. There’s no love, no hope, no light wherever we go.
Sunday December 26, 2021
Days pass by. The tree is the only light in the darkness even if it loses its needles. My mother waters it daily. I think it’s too warm inside and it starves. What is cut dies. It will be hard to get it out of here. Mother gave me chocolate wreaths at tea time. She sang. I hope she isn’t up to something bad again. Dad visited uncle G. He never takes me over there. I’m not sure if my mother was there. I think she likes him somehow. She doesn’t like people and never forbids me to take his candies.
I had to come along with her as she visited the people. I felt bored and it’s cold in the car if she doesn’t drive. The car makes me sick and it takes long before she comes back if she visits someone. Why do I have to sit and wait in the car? Why?
Wednesday December 29, 2021
Tomorrow we visit grandmother again. She’ll bake oliebollen and apple beignets. I like the apple beignets most of all.
I didn’t need to clean that much and was allowed to go outside. It’s not so cold. No snow. It doesn’t feel like Winter. I didn’t know what to do or where to go to. I watched some children play and met Ellen. We searched for coins on the paths behind the row of houses where she lives and followed the path to where I live. Some mothers were outside frying oliebollen just like last year. It makes it smell nice outside.
Thursday December 30, 2021
Laundry day. The last day of the year. No illusions it will get any better. My mother won’t change into a beautiful fairy if the clock strikes twelve. She will be ugly on the inside forever sneaky, mean, violent. At 10 o’clock she received a phone call. She sounded agitated finished her coffee with cake and went to her room. She had to do her hair and makeup first which takes hours. She called for me and my task was to check her hair. She doesn’t need me she has 4 mirrors plus doesn’t believe what I say anyway. It took and took and those people called again which made her angry with me. Finally, she left. I felt relieved, cleaned up everything and took another cup of tea. I put the dishwasher on. It’s not difficult and I know we won’t leave if she finds tasks to be done. Dad left. I hope he is back home before her. I’m not sure what to do. I checked every room if it’s clean. My mother hates dust and dirt and every single item needs to be right at its spot. Should I vacuum the stairs an extra time? I walked the steps she can see it on the carpet. I vacuum underneath the tree and sit on the floor with a dustcloth in my hand. It’s better not to touch anything. She doesn’t only see footsteps but fingerprints everywhere too. I hug the dogs but can’t feed them. If they come with us in the car they feel sick too. If they eat they vomit and make my mother furious too.
She arrived late. Dad bought us something to eat. She didn’t say anything, didn’t complain about what the house looked like. Dad drove us to grandmother. I think grandmother was angry. She said she waited for us the whole day. “Shut up woman,” my mother answered angrily, “you know I have to work.”
If I would only think these words she would wash my mouth with soap and best me to death.
“You could have called.” Grandmother looks at dad but he doesn’t answer.
I went upstairs to the room in the attic. Three long stairs. For New Year’s Eve, we always dress up. Black suit for men and women and girls wear a long dress or skirt. I don’t know why because no one takes a picture and we don’t go outside to wish the neighbours a happy new year. It’s the first thing we do the next morning. So long dress it is just to drink hot chocolate, eat oliebollen and wait till it’s midnight. No one plays with me, talks to me or cares if I’m joining them in the front living room. They watch a show about the past year. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry. I have no clue what is talked about on the telly. Grandmother put bowls with oliebollen and apple beignet on the dining table in the back living room. No one cares how many I’ll eat. They are there to be eaten and if the bowls are empty there are more, way more in grandpa’s office.
Champagne, happy New Year wishes, fake kisses. Firework outside and on television. I don’t like champagne or coffee. All I drink is tea and on rare occasions hot chocolate or hot milk if I am staying with grandmother.
In my bedroom, I watch the firework up in the sky through the small window. I can see the colours while I’m in bed. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal. My normal which isn’t something to be happy with. The Christmas spirit is already dead and buried. I don’t have anything else to achieve other than staying alive till I find a way to get out of here.
Saint Nicholas didn’t visit us but there was a bag full of presents. I had hot chocolate and as the front doorbell rang and dad opened the door pepernoten and candies were thrown inside. I think that was the best part of the day and night. I watched how Piet knocked at the door of someone living across the street. I don’t know who sent Piet but it was a nice gesture. I collected all the candies from the floor. My mother does not even say that it’s dirty. I have a piglet made of marzipan, a new book and boots. I don’t like the boots because they look cold and are not for children. I know my feet will hurt but I didn’t say anything except ‘Thank you Saint Nicholas’ which everyone does after opening a present.
Sunday December 5, 2021
Today was like usual. We start the day with a prayer. Next, the teacher tells a story from the bible. After that, the teacher asked how we celebrated yesterday. I just listened. I feel tired if I arrive at school. I can’t just hop out of bed, get dressed, grab a slice of bread and leave for school. I have to wake up at 5:30 am and work hard, be scolded at, beaten up and kicked for nearly three hours till school starts. So I sat at my desk and tried to look interested and not to show how I feel. I wish I was invisible.
Monday December 6, 2021
Ellen asked me if I can play with her tomorrow. I’m not sure if I can not even if I asked my mother first. She can say yes but at the moments I leave to change her mind or she says she never agreed. My mother always changes her mind and if she blames me. She says I lie but the one who does is she. I told Ellen I would like to but I have to ask my mother first and she isn’t always at home. I think it’s partly true and partly lied. She isn’t always home and if she can be in bed or at work or it’s too dangerous to ask her because everything I say or do triggers her to hit and punish me.
Tuesday December 7, 2021
She made a scene slammed the door and left. She said if she would have an accident with the car it’s my fault. I drive her crazy. I don’t know what to say. I think she is crazy. I don’t know when it started but she has always been like that. Crazy. Grandpa said the geese said he is crazy. My grandmother said her mother was in a madhouse. Perhaps she was crazy or no one liked to take care of her. My grandmother is angry with her mother, my mother with my grandmother and me. I just want her to be out of my life. My mother will never like me I only make her angry and unhappy.
I stayed home. I don’t know when she’ll be back but if someone just scolded you, hit and accused you of things you never did or thought it’s no fun to play at a friend’s home. I’m not allowed to use the phone. I couldn’t tell Ellen I cant come over but I think she already knows.
Wednesday December 8, 2021
After school, I had gymnastics again. Nothing to write about. I’m going to read my book in my room. My mother is at work in the room next to mine. I hear the voices and people walk up and down the stairs.
Thursday December 9, 2021
Laundry day, clean bedsheets, polishing shoes, setting tables, cleaning up and school. My mother was home for lunch which is the only cooked meal. Today it’s leftover day. The only great meal of the week. I had the Endive stew with bacon. Baked with butter in a pan is the best.
Friday December 10, 2021
I told dad I don’t want to go hiking. I don’t like it. The bus drive makes me sick, my feet hurt. He said he would talk about it with my mother. The skirt is cold and too small and my coat isn’t warm. Why can boys wear warm trousers and girls have to catch a cold? I left after I did my tasks so my parents have a day without me. The only good thing was the pea soup with smoked sausage. Not much but better than the canned soup of Unox we eat on Saturdays.
Saturday December 11, 2021
Sunday school time. It’s better than the church. After the story, we sang songs. I’m making a cover for the candle.
Too much food, my belly hurts again. I don’ like those puddings my mother cooks. Those tiny coloured pieces make me gag. I can’t help it. Shouldn’t a dessert be a treat? Why am I forced to eat it?
Sunday December 12, 2021
School started with Christmas decorations. There’s a huge tree in the hallway and the auditorium. Each class has a tree too. Before the school closes they give the trees away to families who don’t have one. So fast Sint Nicholas is forgotten.
Monday December 13, 2021
We do not have a tree yet. There is a Christmas wreath on the front door and an Advent wreath on the table in the living room. I think it’s for the visitors. In the daytime, we don’t use the living. It’s cleaned or the door is closed. As I came home my mother was hanging the star of Bethlehem in front of the window. It’s made of paper and there’s a light in it. Most people who live here have a star.
Tuesday December 14, 2021
On Wednesdays, I have school till 12:15. My mother had a better mood for a change. It doesn’t mean her mood can’t change any minute. She tried to have a conversation with the housekeeper and kept reading from the bible short. I was grateful for that. She can’t read, talk or sing in a normal way. Her voice hurts my ears which makes it hard to focus. She said she would go buying a tree and allowed me to watch the telly. I hope she won’t be back too early and in a bad mood. I feel nervous if she’s home. I never know how she will act.
Wednesday December 15, 2021
The tree is huge and outside in the garden. It stays outside till Saturday. On Saturday she will take it inside and the decorating starts. I don’t look forward to helping her. Finger crossed nothing will go wrong. Of course, there will because Christmas trees lose their needles.
Gymnastic again.
Thursday December 16, 2021
Friday again. I’m tired of everything. I was sent to bed after the meal at 5:30 pm. It’s fine with me. My parents always fight.
Today it is… It is October 20! I woke up. My head hurts. My ear hurts. My eyes are swollen. My throat hurts. I am not tied to the bed. It’s grey outside. I feel the cold. Did it freeze? I tried to sit on my knees on the bed. I feel dizzy. I don’t feel so good. I see mist outside and the streetlight is on. It’s grey. I woke up felt the pain. I hurt my mother scream at me again. I did all she wanted I did not refuse. I tried to be polite and attentive. She waited for me behind the door. She hit me by surprise. I didn’t do anything wrong. She yelled, cursed, scolded me and kept beating me with the whip. She hit me with everything she could find. I saw them looking, the neighbours, other kids. She yelled I am a thief and stole all her money. She held her wallet in her hand swung it in front of me. “You stole my money. You’ve always been a thief! I know you are.” I said I didn’t take her money. I didn’t come into her room as she was asleep. She should know I don’t. I hate to be in her room. It stinks and it’s dangerous. I didn’t take the money. I did not! She kept yelling was furious again because of me. She always says it’s because of me. I saw how people watched me. Now everyone thinks I am a thief. I asked her to give me the wallet. I needed to see if it was true. Was the money gone? She said there was no need for me to have a look. She yelled she had checked it at least ten times. She said the housekeeper already did so. The money was gone and I stole it. It went on and on and on. The housekeeper stood behind her. She didn’t say a word, didn’t help me. She didn’t tell my mother to stop. She didn’t close the door. Did she enjoy my mother molesting me? Next, I had the wallet. I slowly opened it. There it was. The lost money. It wasn’t stolen. No one took it. “Here it is,” I said and showed her the money. She grabbed the wallet out of my hands turned around and left. She left me with empty hands, a broken body and didn’t care. She didn’t say sorry. She didn’t say: I’m glad it isn’t lost. She didn’t care about me, my feelings, what people think about me. What will people think? They think she is right. Adults are always right. Children always lie. I lie, I’m a thief and have that crinkle. A crinkle in my head, that’s what she says about me. Crinkles are sick minds. She wants me to die or wants me to be locked in a nuthouse. Can be I am crazy but I never scream, yell, scold. I do not see heaps of dirt and sand. I do not count how many times I wipe the same spot with the dustcloth. I do not walk the hallway up and down for hours and say: I am nuts, nuts, nuts, you drive me crazy, crazy, crazy.
I remember it all. I remember it very well. It all came back the minute I woke up. I don’t understand why she hates me. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I did not ask to be born. I did not ask to live in a world with people who hate me. I can’t forget. The memory is back. Memories will never disappear. Not memories of a bad life. My life. It won’t get any better. I will not ever feel better. They say writing helps but I don’t think so. Not if writing is dangerous. Not if she reads it.
I waited in bed longer. The alarm clock stood still. You have to rewind it each day to know the time. There’s a clock downstairs in the living. I can look around the corner and see what time it is. Perhaps when the clock strikes I know what time it is. I took my alarm clock with me and opened the door of my bedroom. I have to be silent. I don’t know the day or time. The stairs are long, the house is cold. I see the newspaper on the floor. This means it isn’t Sunday. Quickly I turn it around. I read the day. I read the date. I keep repeating it. Wednesday, October 20, 2021, Wednesday, October 20, 2021… Do I sound like my mother? I’m scared and I need to pee. I hurry to the toilet downstairs. It’s at the end of the hallway before the kitchen. I hesitate. It can’t be late. There’s not a single sound. I wait and wait, too afraid to flush the toilet. Scared to leave the privy. If I don’t flush my mother will be mad with me. I flush and ran out to the kitchen. The dogs are inside. It’s quiet. I feel thirsty. The table is set for breakfast. It looks as if nothing happened. The clock in the pocket of my bathrobe cannot tell the time. Did time stand still while I was away? I hesitate. I’m thirsty. I drink water from the tap and eat some cheese. She will notice it but I can’t help. I need to eat. I wait if I hear something. What time is it? It’s Wednesday, October 20, 2021. The living room door squeaks. I will not walk over the carpet. I won’t leave footprints. The clock is ticking. If it’s true it’s nearly 3 o’clock. Three in the morn. I hurry back upstairs, back to bed. Three more hours and the day starts. I set the clock while I’m shivering in bed. Why is it so cold?
Wednesday October 20, 2021
Yesterday at 10 my mother told me to get out of bed. I had to take a bath and go downstairs. The kitchen was warm and I had my breakfast. She didn’t say a word about the cheese. At noon we had lunch and I could watch the telly. She didn’t speak to me. After supper she said I go back to school tomorrow. So today was my first day at school. I gave her a letter to the teacher. No one asked where I was. I don’t think I missed anything. Not at school not at the gym.
Thursday October 21, 2021
It’s Friday. At school, we first read in groups. It’s with the entire school. After school, it was practising for the orchestra and choir. I can not play an instrument. I wish I could but I can’t. We practice for Christmas, not for Saint Nicholas. These songs we do with our class. Christmas is a celebration with the parents. Nine weeks till Christmas. Six weeks till Saint Nicholas. Nine times or eight times to practice. Oh no, fewer because there will be Autumn vacation. The school will be closed. So I was sick for how long? My mother always sends me back to school before school closes.
Friday October 22, 2021
Dad is home. Everything is back to normal. Out of bed at 6, making the beds, polishing shoes, setting the table and cleaning the house. Dad sings and my mother complains. I wish someone will call and she leaves. No hiking club today. She said next week. The hiking club already has a vacation. I don’t like vacations if it means I have to stay home. The housekeeper will stay home too. I try to stay close to dad and hope she forgets me.
Tomato soup and bread for dinner. On Saturdays, we only eat twice. Bread for breakfast and soup with bread for dinner and a pastry or cake at coffee time. My mother orders a lot of pastries, cookies, cakes and chocolate at the confectioner. Most of them she eats. After eating, she sticks her finger in her throat and vomits on the toilet. I don’t like the sound of it.
Saturday October 23, 2021
Sunday day of rest? No, out of bed early, serving my mother and dad breakfast on bed. I got permission to switch the central heating on. I cleaned and went to Sunday school. It’s cold outside and I don’t like to wear skirts. The skirts are short and cold. I wish I could wear long ones like when grandmother was a child. I feel itchy again. I try not to scratch but I can’t stop. My skin hurts. My mouth, eyes and face too. I don’t like to sit with my parents in the living. Dad reads the paper and my mother is always busy. Busy cleaning, at the telephone, her looks, complaining or with her schedules. Schedules about work. House chorus and so. She writes in the notebook for the housekeeper again the one she keeps it in the kitchen drawer.
If my parents would go on a holiday I could stay with granny… or grandmother. I haven’t seen them for longer. Auntie will get married so I can never stay with her again. I have another aunt. Dad’s sister. I never stayed with her. My mother hates her.
He held her while during their walk outside to the shops. An outsider would think he gave her strength. In reality she was the strong one. The person he could rely one for over 60 years. She had hoped for better times. Freedom. A life without him. He wasn’t the supportive, lovely man others saw but the narcissist who checked out on her 24/7. The man who wouldn’t let go of her. The guy who only became older due to her.
Mats a great guy lived his life. Independently of others. People liked him. Can be because he was friendly, greeted everyone and even smiled at strangers. It was not that he had no family but they didn’t live nearby. Nothing to worry about since they called frequently and each one of them had an enriched life. No moment of boredom.
Days, weeks, months even years passed by. Satisfied he was and it showed. He enjoyed himself even as an epidemic knocked at the doors. It will pass, be patient, stay inside, keep your windows closed and everything will be alright soon enough the news reporter announced. It wasn’t a message of doom for Mats. Born after the second world war he was aware of the fact that nothing would ever stay the same. The normal back then had come to an end long ago.
There was no need to watch the same old show and listen to the news day and night. Plenty of things he had to do plus he could always have a look outside. The streets looked empty and he wondered where did all people go. Not a single voice of the neighbours he heard through the walls. The cupboard and fridge became empty and worse of all he didn’t feel too well.
“It doesn’t matter,” he told to himself, “after all these years there’s no need to wake up early. I’ll stay in bed.” He curled up and coughed and fell into a restless sleep. Time no longer play a role for those who are sick and need to recover. For a second he woke up. Did the phone ring, did his brother try to call? His bed felt warm and comfortable. Later he would see, later was early enough.
How many days had passed by? It’s hard to say but a knock at the door woke him up. Still, not well he let his visitors inside. “We received an alarming call. Sir, are you alright?” He didn’t really know what to say and tried not to cough. “Pneumonia,” one said to the other who answered “all cupboards are empty. There’s indeed no piece of bread in the house.” “I’m so sorry I cannot offer you a cup of tea,” Mats stammered ashamed about his lack of hospitality. “Don’t worry Sir, we are here to come to your aid. We’ll fill out some papers and guarantee your food will be here soon. Just go back to bed we’ll let ourselves out.”
Relieved that’s how Mats felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. His stomach no longer ached. The heartbeat down there was clearly felt through his ski, all body mass had left him.
Hope kept him for 21 more days alive. At least that’s what they said. Twenty-one day’s Mats were spent mainly in bed saving his energy, trying to hang in, keep warm. Not once during all these days, his front doorbell rang, not a single person cared about him or brought him some food. No doctor visited the seriously ill man. They all forgot about him. A friendly, independent man, once liked, died alone because no one gave a damn. “It was pneumonia the city said,” instead of admitting he died of starvation, ignorance and bureaucracy.
July 24, 2021, was the last time I wrote. A lot has happened but if I think back it’s not worth writing about it. My Summer vacation is nearly over. It started with my stay at granny’s house, I joined the gym camp with the bullies and if I think back I still feel miserable about the sugar water. I forgot to tell you about the cute stone man they gave me. The mascot of Advendo is a huge stone figure called Kuub. They said it became babies and we all got one for a present. I placed mine in front of the window in my bedroom. Next, my mother tried to kill me as she became hysterical again. I do not remember much from it. I tried as they asked me what happened in hospital but all I remembered was that terrible voice and the cupboard covering me. There was a police officer and a lady from CPS asking me how or what. The nurse asked and next to the doctor but I said nothing. I am not allowed to tell strangers about my mother. My mother told me to keep my mouth shut. She knew these people would ask me. “If you dare to tell anything to anyone I kill you”, she hissed at me as she bent over me and right after that she smiled at the doctor who entered the room and he smiled back.
Am I the only one who sees how fast her face chances? One moment she is angry and yells and spits at me the next second she is friendly. It confused me. Sometimes I believe she regrets what she did but as soon as I believe her she attacks me. I see how she enjoys hurting me but what I don’t understand is why she didn’t get rid of me. I know she didn’t want me so why keep me?
She didn’t visit me frequently as I stayed in hospital but I didn’t mind. The other children have visitors and toys and cards I don’t. Their parents are friendly and mine is not. I don’t like it when I feel sick or am in pain and people watch me or poke in me. I like it most if I am alone, away from home. If my mother acts weird it is better if she does that at home and not in the hospital, not if she stands next to my bed and everyone can see it. I saw dad twice. Once he visited me and once I saw him with a group of others. They were all wearing white coats like doctors and following a doctor. I asked the nurse who brought me in a wheelchair for some tests. I didn’t tell her my dad is one of them, one of what she told were students. So my dad is a student in the hospital? Did he tell anyone I am here? Why I am here? It’s a very big hospital more like a factory perhaps no one knows he is my dad. Perhaps no one knows what my mother did and no one knows she is dangerous and mad. I think I stayed at the same hospital as grandpa. He died but I am still alive.
The nurse told me I could go home and later the doctor said the same. No one told me how to get home. It was dad who picked me up and drove me to grandmother’s home. He didn’t say much just that I had to stay with her for the rest of the school vacation. It was a long drive and I mainly slept while I was strapped with a belt to the backseat. It made me feel sick. At grandmother’s house, he lifted the big brown suitcase out of the car and put it into the bedroom. This time I had to stay in the bedroom that once was my mother’s. The big bear filled with seagrass was sitting on the couch and stared at me. Did my mother abandon him like me? He’s nearly as tall as I am. I’m not sure if he’s hand-knit. Perhaps he is and grandmother made him for her. She knits well and very fast. His eyes scare me though. I held him for a while but it’s not a bear who likes to cuddle. He feels hard and stiff and I think he doesn’t like to be touched. “You stay here”, dad said, “you can go to bed it was a long day”, I’m not sure if it was a long day, longer than other days. It’s not dark outside and he didn’t give me any food. The hospital gave me breakfast. Two slices of bread wrapped in plastic. Two slices of what they call cheese were in plastic packed too. They felt warm and soft smelled like sweat. I like cheese but not this one it should be called and shouldn’t smell bad. I didn’t eat it. The room is large and not as white and warm as in hospital. I like the silence and go to bed. I haven’t seen grandmother yet but that doesn’t matter. “Perhaps it’s safer here than at home”, I say to the bear. He looks at me and I think he understands but he looks lonely. I slip out of bed and lay the bear on the couch. “I won’t hurt you, you can sleep now bear.” He looks at me and I hope he understands me. If someone always hurts you you have to be careful and watch your steps. It’s long ago she hurt bear and he still knows it after all these years. I think he was happy alone in this room and now I am here and the danger is back. I turn to my left side and ignore the pain. Bruises will heal, it will all heal one day but not what she said to me. “I kill you,” she said and I know she will. It wasn’t the first time she tried to kill me. Did she kill the baby in the jar too?
Saturday July 31, 2021
It’s dark when I wake up. For a moment I wonder where I am. It’s quiet and I need to go to the bathroom. There are two. One is downstairs. Two long stairs and through the cold hallway. The other one is at the end of the hallway and a few stairs away. My grandpa made that one and I don’t think it’s used much. I will use it and after that, I go back to bed. Perhaps grandmother will come and to see me later. Usually, she does not. She always wakes up early and is in the kitchen if I wake up. Back in my room, I hesitate. It’s still dark outside. “We have to stay here longer bear,” I say while I look at bear. His eyes are wide open but he doesn’t look at me. I understand he is afraid. “I can hide you in the closet if you like.” I lift bear off the couch and carry him to the closet. He’s heavy but I have to help him. On the bottom of the closet, I make his bed. There’s room for both of us but bear isn’t used to me. “I’ll leave the door a bit open for you. It’s safe here, it’s a good closet.” I think bear is happy. He can sleep now. I go back to bed. If I wake up again the sun shines and I hear the church bells. It’s Sunday people go to church. The suitcase dad carried upstairs is opened. I wonder who packed it. There isn’t much in it. I brush my teeth and get dressed. Grandmother will be downstairs and I hope she gives me tea and something to eat. She will not go to church.
Grandmother is in the living. She listens to the radio and has a pot of tea. She gives me a slice of bread with butter and brown sugar and one with cheese. She doesn’t tell me to pray and doesn’t look at me. She lets me do what I like and I can watch television. No one visits her. She acts as if nothing has happened but avoids looking at me. She will once she is used to me. Me and my bruises, bandages and ugly face. Me the child no one wants to have around.
I clean and clean and clean. My hands are wounded but my mother doesn’t care. She knows I have allergies, she knows I have to avoid water and so much more. She says she has to clean because of my allergies. She blames me for all the extra work I cause her and that’s the reason why I have to clean the whole day and at times at night too. Her obsession with dirt is worse than it has ever been. My mother is neurotic and even after it is super clean and checked by her at least three times she yells all of a sudden because she sees dirt. Dirt, dust, mountains of sand. There’s no point in telling her it’s clean. She won’t believe me. Her eyes see what I can’t see and she believes her eyes more than anyone else. With one hand she wipes the shelves of cupboards empty and shouts: Do it again. As I step forward to pick up what she threw on the floor she pulls the cupboard forward and it falls on me. How come I didn’t see that one come? I try to be alert like she calls it. I am not clumsy, not lazy just tired. The only thing I want is to sleep. Sleeping forever sounds good to me. Snowwhite took a long nap and so did Sleeping beauty. I am not a beauty but that doesn’t mean I can not sleep. My body hurts and the cupboard…it’s not that heavy at all. It covers me like a blanket. A blanket where she can’t touch me. I close my eyes and wait. There’s no reason to fight, try to get away. The cupboard is a good place to be. I close my eyes and no longer listen to her voice. I don’t care about her kicking me. She can do whatever she likes while I take a nap or better sleep till eternity.
The voices… I hear them but I don’t care about what they say. Why should I? It’s warm and cosy where I am. I don’t want to wake up I like to stay where I am. It’s good the way it is. Tired… I feel so tired. The only thing I want is to forget that terrible voice, forget where I am and go away. The darkness is a good place to be. If it is dark I can hide or walk around without anyone noticing me. Something or someone pulls at me. I try to open my mouth but can’t speak. “Leave me alone I want to sleep”, is what I think but can’t say. Why don’t they leave me alone? I sink deeper and deeper and hear a voice telling me to wake up. Wake up? There’s no need to wake up. It is good where I am. “Let me be”, I say or perhaps it was a thought. I am happy where I am and I don’t want to go back to my life filled with misery where not one single person cares about me. “In your grave, you can rest as much as you like”, granny says. I smile. She’s right I can finally rest. My mother… she will be happy when I am gone. I will not cost her money, I will not spoil her mood, I will not give her extra work because of my allergies and she never needs to see my ugly face again.
My friend waits for me. He hasn’t changed and looks exactly the same as he did as he waited at the foot of my bed. I feel happy because the only one who ever waited for me is where I am now. “Sorry, I made you wait. I am happy to see you and like to sleep now” I say or perhaps I mumble it but it doesn’t matter. My friend knows how I feel and knows. He knows me better than anyone will ever do. While I drift away I think: there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, I am glad there is no light. At least I can sleep now.
I had to hurry to be at school in time to catch the bus. I don’t like to walk, the bus makes me sick and I have no friends. There’s no one I know or who talks to me. Am I the only one who doesn’t like to drive around in a bus for two hours or more? The other people made so much noise. It did hurt my head. I didn’t want to be on a bus, I didn’t want to walk for hours and I didn’t want to go back home. I lie if I say there’s no place like home or perhaps it isn’t a lie. My home is a terrible place to be it isn’t great at all. I thought of what is worse being home or sitting in that bus to join an endless walk for no reason. I can’t see any fun in it. Walking for a medal isn’t a hobby of mine. My feet still hurt from last Saturday and now I have even more blisters and blood. I tried to sleep on the bus. Sleeping is hard though. I wish I could kill time while reading but I can’t. If I read in a vehicle I get a headache and start vomiting beside the bus stinks. I wish people wouldn’t make such a terrible noise. Why are they always talking so loud?
I came back home at the end of the day. The whole day it was grey and cold outside. As the bus arrived it was dark. On my way home there are four street lights. It isn’t that far although my painful bleeding feet make it hard to walk. No one waited for me as the bus arrived. My parents don’t care. The only thing they care about is getting rid of me.
I stood behind the gate and waited. I hesitated because I didn’t feel well. I asked myself why I should enter if it matters if I turn around and leave. Home doesn’t feel like a home and my parents don’t like me. Perhaps they can’t help. I am not sure if I would like me if I was my child. I know they wouldn’t miss me, my parents, I mean. My mother tells me several times a day how much she hates me. If she gives me something she always does with the same words “I don’t give this to you because I love you but because I hate you so much”.
I am not what my parents wanted or hoped for. And my parents? They don’t feel like my parents, they are strangers to me. I thought my dad liked me but he does not. My parents are people I don’t think I like. I don’t feel love or hate. It’s empty inside of me. I think I have no feelings. The thing is I am a child and there’s no other place to go.
Dogs have a better life than me.
They all shut their eyes to what goes on in our house. They know my mother is crazy. My father does, the whole family does and I am sure at school people to know and the neighbours know it too.
Saturday February 6, 2021
” Same old story same old song…” That’s what my life looks like. It doesn’t matter how I feel if I’m tired or sick. I have to get out of bed early and work. Today it’s Sunday. Sunday means breakfast at bed for my parents, cleaning the house, Sunday school and back at home sitting on a chair for the rest of the day.
After my dad read the newspaper he dictated words I had to write down. All those words are difficult and he doesn’t care if I heard them before or I had them at school. He says I have to be the best student of all. I don’t want to be the best student and I don’t like to write down bring words but if I refuse he will be angry. I am not allowed to refuse ever or say what is on my mind. I am not allowed to sing either. My dad says if you cannot sing if you don’t know the words you have to keep your mouth shut. He can sing but I can not. He doesn’t want me to say how I feel either. He says feelings don’t matter only facts do. If I don’t have facts I need to keep silence. I keep my mouth shut because it is the best thing to do. Only my mother never does. She can say what she likes, scream, yells and tells things everyone knows it isn’t true. She always lies but he never tells her to keep her mouth shut.
I wrote down the words he read in the newspaper: Finances Politicians Economical crisis delectable-aroma concentration-of-disadvantage and more words I never heard of.
I didn’t write it all in the right way and had to write every wrong word two hundred times. Two hundred isn’t as much as five hundred or one thousand times like the teacher makes us do when we write something wrong but my hand still hurts.
Sunday February 7, 2021
I am out of words. I think I am ill.
Monday February 8, 2021
We had a test at school. I sat at my desk and couldn’t make it. I tried, looked at all those numbers but thinking was too hard. I tried but it was pointless. I can not count. The teacher knows but I still had to write the test and she did not send me to the corner to think about what I did wrong. I never know what I did wrong anyway. No one explains it to me. It’s the same if it comes to maths. No one explains it they think they did but if I don’t understand it they didn’t do their job right. My dad says the teacher gets paid for explaining and stupid questions do not exist. My teacher is old very old.
Tuesday February 9, 2021
It was someone’s birthday. The birthday child came to our class and gave the teacher something to eat, the cake it was. The teacher let him choose a postcard. Each teacher at school gives you something on your birthday and you can ask two children to come along. I have no friends so I never know who to ask. The bullies are suddenly friendly if it’s your birthday because they want you to ask them. I don’t like to ask children who are peaking at me. They make false promises but aren’t real friends. Since my friends left school I only play with Ellen once in a while if we meet outside.
I don’t like birthdays.
Wednesday February 10, 2021
In the afternoon I went to gymnastics. More time to kill the bullies. The teacher is deaf and blind. She must be.
Thursday February 11, 2022
Handcrafts at school were okay but the rest of the day was bad. It was hard to get out of bed. My mother yelled at me and said I am stupid and clumsy. She said I can’t do anything right, break everything and she wishes I was never born. She kept yelling at me and said I am exactly like my dad. I was sent to bed at 5 p.m. and that was my day.
Friday February 12, 2021
My aunt came to visit us but I don’t know why. I don’t know her. She’s my dad’s sister and doesn’t talk much. My mother hates her and my aunt doesn’t like my mother. I can see that but she never says it. My mother and my aunt were at the same school. They knew each other before my dad met my mother. I think my mother was a bully at school. I think she bullied my aunt. My mother believes she is perfect and beautiful, she is the queen. She is not kind to people and many fear her. I am sure as a child she already was a monster. My grandpa did not like her either and my grandmother fears her too. If my mother is angry and threatens her says she will leave my grandmother begs her not to. I wish my mother would leave. She isn’t a kind of good person.
Saturday February 13, 2021
We visited my granny. She is back in hospital. My dad says she can die. I don’t remember the name of her illness. It’s something with her blood and she wakes up with blue spots allover her body. I dont want her to die because she is the only one who likes me and plays with me and I write her letters. I cannot tell everything but I write her long letters and she writes me back. She does if she can.
I didn’t see my uncle. Perhaps he stayed at school.
Cornelia As a young girl the boy next door pulled a chair away as she intended to sit down at the kitchen table. A harmless joke infecting the rest of her life. It hurt, hurt more than anyone could imagine. She didn’t live in a time where doctors were consulted and girls were taken seriously. Her life was a hard one and she lived with it, the terrible pain that didn’t left only get worse as time passed by. She had to work hard and new she needed to study, take care of herself because she would never get married. Being in pain alone is easier to handle as taking care of a husband, having a family of her own. She struggled through life, was kind and generous and became a teacher. The children she never had her profession gave her. She wasn’t a mom 24/7 but cared, she cared more than anyone would ever know or admit. That pain, that terrible pain never left her but she didn’t blame the boy next door not sued him for the harm he had done to her, the fact he had forced her to live in pain, give up on her future, a family of her own.
Carmen She could have had a great life if she was born in a different family, if her family would have been good, at least had given a try to love or support her. Instead they fought each other and after their divorce the situation didn’t get any better. Mother’s new boyfriend a pastor raped her and she tried to kill herself. Help… It was never on the way. No one believed her, no one ever asked her, there were no fellow sufferers or support groups. As her foster mother tried to help her, spoke out, she was sent away and told she harms her. Carmen… A smart intelligent girl, good at school, was locked into a mental institution. They kept her in isolation for weeks, put her on a straight jacket and forced her to take medication. Medication that would make her stop telling this kind of nonsense, lies. She fought and after years she lost the battle. Her fight to be heard, her cry for help was ignored because of caretakers who didn’t care, parents who never had and a selfish pastor.
Caroline She always had been kind and the best student. She was loved, been raised by great parents but never been one of those popular girls. It wasn’t that she felt the need to be one but that doesn’t mean either she felt flattered as she was asked for a dance. Her marriage was the best day of her life. From that moment on her life went downhill. He didn’t care about her or the children and in short time she turned into a nervous housewife, a fat, dull woman without any friends, the type of woman he despised although she kept smiling. She didn’t feel the need to speak out, tell his colleagues about what he did, only wanted to be left in peace, find a way out. She found a way, fled with her two children but could never forget, always stayed alert. She tried to smile, but her vpice said more than words could do. From a beloved and great student she changed in a single mother afraid to speak, scared for the world outside till anxiety finally killed her.
I woke up early. I have a poster of Fats Domino. I am not sure if I like him but he reminds me of grandpa. Sometimes I go to the kitchen and watch my grandmother bake a cake. She uses a small old scales and doesn’t want me to lick out of the bowl. She says the dough makes me sick but I like the taste and in the end, she gives the bowl to me. Today I stay in bed. I like to be alone and here there are no tasks to do. The shops are closed my grandma can not send me to the bakery to buy her half a white bread. She always buys half a white milk bread. It has to be the one with milk. Is there really milk in it? I cannot see it or taste any difference with our bread.
After breakfast, it is coffee time and after that, we leave to my other granny. She is my favourite grandmother and sick. She also writes me letters if she is in hospital and I write her back. She lives far away. I like her but I don’t like sitting in the car. It makes me feel sick. I try to sleep but I can’t.
My mother is angry and my dad says he will take care of the financial books and she says she takes a lawyer if needed. I don’t know what they mean with financial perhaps the old man who worked for grandpa? I saw him a few times sitting at grandpa’s desk as my grandmother told me to bring him his cup of coffee and a slice of cake. I wish my mother would be silent for a while but she keeps talking, complaining. I hope she won’t turn around and look at me. Her arm can still reach me although I try to hide in a corner. If she does and notices I feel ill she will hit me. She doesn’t want me to vomit in her car.
“If you dare to vomit I kick you out of the car. You better swallow it!“
She always says the same, repeat it over and over again but sometimes I can’t help. I remember once I was little and felt ill. I stood in my crib, cried and vomited at the curtains. She was furious with me. I cried but she didn’t touch me. My dad had to clean it up. She said I spoiled her curtains. Last time I vomited my dad came to help me. “Next time you need to vomit do it in your pillowcase,” he said. He gave me clean sheets and everything. I felt sick again and did as he told me. I kept my bed clean but my mother was mad with me. She said I spoiled her pillow. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I did exactly what dad told me to do. He didn’t come back so I couldn’t tell my mother who to blame. Perhaps she would believe me.
Granny is happy to see me. My mother doesn’t like her and she doesn’t like my uncle either. He is my dad’s youngest brother and has a bit in common with the bully in the street. My dad bought flowers for his mother and they talk. Adults always talk and there isn’t much to do for me. Granny doesn’t have toys and only a few books. My uncle doesn’t want to play with me. He leaves. Later I help granny in the kitchen and after dinner with the dishes. She has a serving hatch which I like just like her sugar pot. Granny has no pets and our dogs stay in her garden. They are happy they can be outside. They hate the car as much as I do.
At the end of the day, we go back home. My dad drives and my mother doesn’t say a word. I look at the streetlights on the highway. In the dark, the chain of lights looks like the fair.
Saturday December 26, 2021
It’s Sunday. Everything is back to normal. I wake up early and hear the wind outside. I hurried out of bed. I overslept, she will be mad with me again. It’s still dark outside. I hurry downstairs to make her breakfast. Dad says she left and we can set the table for the two of us. She left… I am happy she did. I don’t know for how long but there will be some peace now. My dad doesn’t visit the church and I stay at home too. We have breakfast and clean up. After that, he makes coffee and reads the newspaper and I read my book. I wonder if he made his bed. If she comes back she will be angry if he didn’t although it’s not his task. I won’t ask him if he did. I just want a moment of peace.
Sunday December 27, 2020
She came back yesterday. Of course, she did and of course, she was angry. It doesn’t matter what I do, what my dad did she is still mad and will always be. My dad says she’s just tired and I have to be kind to her. I try but she hates me. I see the hate in her **emerald eyes**. She hates me and even tells me she does. She says I look like my dad and she wishes I was never born. I wish I was never born too. It’s all I wish but no one asked me. It’s not my fault I am born. I too wish I was never born. It won’t get any better. I know it. She says I am ugly and will kill me. One day she will. It’s hard to be kind to someone who hates you so much. If she yells at me she spits, I watch her spittle fly through the air. I don’t want her spit in my face. She stinks, she really does. I do not like to hug her.
Monday December 28, 2020
We still have no new housekeeper. She will come, there’s always someone new just not now. Our house is super clean. We have no time to make it dirty. Perhaps we need a cook. Someone who can make food that doesn’t make me ill. Someone I can talk to. The only ones I talk to are the dogs but I cannot say everything to them they are friends with my mother. I sit with them in their basket and feed them sometimes. I brush them too. My mother says I have to keep brushing till not one single hair stays behind in the brush. Is that possible at all? My arm and hand hurt if I brush for hours. I don’t like it.
No one knows but I have two diaries. This one and the ugly orange one she gave me. I have to write something in that one too. I know she reads it.
Tuesday December 29, 2020
I watched some television in the afternoon. My parents both left. I am glad I was home alone. The lights in the tree are burning. In between watching, I listen if I hear her car. I hope she will stay away for a long time. I don’t think she will but I hope so.
Wednesday December 30, 2020
I was outside for a while and walked through the alleys behind the houses. Some mothers are baking deep-fried doughnut balls outside, some in their shed. I like the smell. My mother doesn’t make them either does my dad. Tonight we visit my grandmother again. She knows how to make them. I never saw her do it. I watch how a woman puts the dough in a pan of oil. It doesn’t look difficult at all. She sees me. “You like one,” she asked and she gave me one. She gave me one she just made. I thank her as she gives it to me. She is the best person I ever met. I will never forget this, never forget her. I don’t know her but she is kind to me.
Thursday December 31, 2020
I wake up at my grandmother’s house. Last night we arrived and celebrated the end of the year. My grandmother baked buckets filled with doughnut balls and apple fritters. My aunt was there too and now she has a boyfriend. He is tall and kind, she is very small. He looks like a giant. A giant that doesn’t talk much. They all watched something on the television. A famous man spoke about the year, things that happened. No one spoke about what happened to me… what will happen to me. They said you have to make a wish, replace your old habits for something better, replace that old standard to achieve something. My mother… she will not replace anything. People won’t do that, she won’t and will always be the same. Foxes don’t change their habits, the lion does not either do my mother. “Happy New Year,” they all lied and my aunt was the only one who dared to hug me. I could cry but I understand, she is happy and found a friend. Perhaps is safe now and no longer afraid of my mother.
Today the world is not different from yesterday. It’s only the next day, we go home and everything is the same. My mother will shout at me, hate and hit me, my dad keeps his mouth shut or hits me with his slippers if she tells him and I will hide my bruises till the end.
It’s nearly Christmas. It feels such a long time ago Saint Nicholas arrived with his steamship. I watched him on television. He looks friendly, doesn’t scare me it is just I don’t like to talk to him. I am not sure if he likes to know how I feel. Perhaps he does. They say he knows everything. It’s all written in his book. A thick red book. It’s always with him. If the Saint knows how I feel how come he never mentions it and he asks me how I am doing. I know it is not good to lie and that is why I say nothing. It is better not to speak the truth. People don’t like it if you speak out. So I keep my mouth shut and hide and if I cannot hide I just look, look from a distance. As I was smaller I hid behind the curtain. They are long and soft and feel warm. My mother never said I am not allowed to sit there. Perhaps she doesn’t know or is glad she doesn’t need to see me. She doesn’t like it if I look at her. She says she can see what I think but what I think she doesn’t tell me. She just slaps me into my face after she said that. Not once but several times. I don’t believe she will ever like me and stop. She will never stop hitting me. If she does I see Monty our dog look. I am not sure if he looks at her or me. She doesn’t hit him though just me.
It’s Sunday and there isn’t much to do. We stay home because my mother needs to work. She always work.
The Christmas tree looks nice with all the lights on, the silver balls and I can smell it. If it’s dark outside the ‘Star of Betlehem’ burns. I don’t think wise men will knock at our door and if my mother will send them away. She doesn’t like unexpected visitors.
Sunday December 20, 2020
Monday… There’s no school I have vacation but have to be out of bed at 5:30 a.m. I am not allowed to sleep longer. It’s cold, my skin feels itchy and I have stiff fingers. They are red and I try to move them. Last night I was not right to my bed. Perhaps my parents forgot or they no longer care if I scratch. I scratch anyway. The blanket feels itchy. I don’t like it but the sheet smells nice. I hope my mother won’t see the blood spats. It will make her furious again. The rest of the day she will keep me busy, give me tasks to do. Perhaps I have time to read my book if she leaves. The shoes are waiting to be polished and I need to set the table for breakfast. My dad is at home. Perhaps he gives a hand or hides again? He hasn’t much time for me lately. He is busy, everybody is busy. There is no time to play.
Monday December 21, 2020
My mother is angry and my dad is angry too. I think he is angry although he never shouts. It is about the family. Who to visit when. My mother says they don’t like her and it’s a waste of her time. My father says it’s only once a year. I try to make no sound and stay in my room. The book is on my lap but it is hard to read if my mother yells and screams. I hope she will leave and the neighbours will not complain.
The front door slammed. I don’t know who left. I listened if I hear the car leave. I can recognize the sound of our car and hear it if it’s at the start of our street. I always can no matter where I am in our house. If I recognize the sound I know my mother will be home soon.
I wait, listen, keep my book open but it remains silent.
Tuesday December 22, 2020
There’s someone in my room. If I wake up in the middle of the night he stands at the end of my bed. He waits and I wonder why. I say it’s a he but I am not sure. I never saw a face and we do not speak but I think it’s a man because he is tall. He waits and is dressed in black. Black is a good colour if you do not want people to see you that easily. I like dark colours too but I don’t have black clothes except the dress for Christmas. It’s black and sometimes I have a dark blue one. The cloth is soft. He makes me feel save. He wasn’t always there but now he is. I think he is a friend. With him around I can sleep. I don’t have friends you know. Francois isn’t really my friend and Louis doesn’t play with me but I like him. His brother is nice to me too but I never been at their place. I was at Francoise’s home and visited Caroline. She lives far away. Perhaps she is a friend. Her mother is nice and so is her dad. He is milkman and delivers milk at people their homes. Her granddad lives next door and I saw him too. There is a door inside the house which you can use to visit him but he is outside with his rabbits most of the time. He likes rabbits and carrots. He has a field of carrots they are white. I never saw white carrots. Caroline gave me one. She took it out of the soil and I ate it. It tasted strange.
Wednesday December 23, 2020
Tonight we go to church. I do not like to go to church in the middle of the night. Someone made this up and now all people go to church? Over there are too many people. People I don’t know and most of them never visit the church. Why tonight? It’s cold outside, the wind blows and I only have a dress. It’s easy for boys. They wear trousers. Inside the church, it is cold too. I am always shivering. People wear their coats, hats, gloves and scarfs. My dad says I have to go to bed early and he will wake me up. Early? What does that mean? I always go early to bed. My parents don’t like to have me around. I don’t like it if anyone wakes me up. I am tired and I wish I could sleep for a hundred years just like the sleeping beauty. She is lucky. I don’t care if I don’t wake up. I don’t need a print, I don’t want to be a princess. The only thing I want is to sleep in peace and not being tired.
Thursday December 24, 2020
It’s Christmas but nothing changed. My mother says she wants to eat in a restaurant but we go to my grandmother and my aunt will be there too. If we go to a restaurant my dad calls them. If we go we go to Plaswijck. The food is good. I am never ill if I eat at that restaurant. My parents are not a good company and don’t talk to me but I can choose what I like to eat. At times it is boring being there because I am not allowed to speak and I have to sit still and straight up. Some children play or are underneath the table. I watch them.
First I have to help cleaning the house. After that we have breakfast. My mother set the table and there’s a bread she calls “clChristmashristmas-stoll”. I don’t like bread with stuff in it. The raisins en green en red pieces she calls “succades”. It tastes weird and leaves green and red colour behind on the bread. I don’t want it. I only like the almond paste inside of it. I take the rolls with the tiny black seeds on top. It’s good enough. I like those seeds.
We have to take the car to visit my granny. The dogs sit in the back and are not happy. They smell and it stinks. It takes long before we arrive and I feel car sick. The car smells too. I try not to vomit because it will make my mother angry. My dad tied me at the backseat which makes me feel miserable too.
I am not sure if my granny is happy to see us. Grandpa… he died. Now she lives alone in the big house. I think she likes it now she is the boss and can do as she likes. My aunt arrives later and my mother is angry with her and with my dad. I don’t know why because I left. I want to find grandpa and hear him play the trumpet but he isn’t there. There are only three photos of him. One is as he was young. It is at my granny’s side table.
We will stay the night at my granny’s home. My room is on the ceiling. I have to walk three stairs to get there. No one sleeps there and there’s no heater but I like the room, the small window in the roof and the bed. The bed is old. The mattress is filled with seagrass and there are no blankets but there’s a duvet with kapok. If I lay underneath and pull it over my head no one can see I am in it. The bed is nice and warm. If I stay with my granny I don’t need to wake up at 5:30 a.m. I don’t need to help her and my mother leaves me alone most of the time.
We had vegetable soup and goose for dinner. After dinner, my mother read something in my granny’s Bible. She has two. One to use and the other one is in a copper box. It’s the one the church gave her as she got married. I only saw it once. There are locks on it. My aunt sneaked into my room and told me a story about the three piglets. I like her but she looks sad, sad and scared.
Friday December 25, 2021It’s nearly Christmas. It feels such a long time ago Saint Nicholas arrived with his steamship. I watched him on television. He looks friendly, doesn’t scare me it is just I don’t like to talk to him. I am not sure if he likes to know how I feel. Perhaps he does. They say he knows everything. It’s all written in his book. A thick red book. It’s always with him. If the Saint knows how I feel how come he never mentions it and he asks me how I am doing. I know it is not good to lie and that is why I say nothing. It is better not to speak the truth. People don’t like it if you speak out. So I keep my mouth shut and hide and if I cannot hide I just look, look from a distance. As I was smaller I hid behind the curtain. They are long and soft and feel warm. My mother never said I am not allowed to sit there. Perhaps she doesn’t know or is glad she doesn’t need to see me. She doesn’t like it if I look at her. She says she can see what I think but what I think she doesn’t tell me. She just slaps me into my face after she said that. Not once but several times. I don’t believe she will ever like me and stop. She will never stop hitting me. If she does I see Monty our dog look. I am not sure if he looks at her or me. She doesn’t hit him though just me.
It’s Sunday and there isn’t much to do. We stay home because my mother needs to work. She always work.
The Christmas tree looks nice with all the lights on, the silver balls and I can smell it. If it’s dark outside the ‘Star of Betlehem’ burns. I don’t think wise men will knock at our door and if my mother will send them away. She doesn’t like unexpected visitors.
Sunday December 20, 2020
Monday… There’s no school I have vacation but have to be out of bed at 5:30 a.m. I am not allowed to sleep longer. It’s cold, my skin feels itchy and I have stiff fingers. They are red and I try to move them. Last night I was not right to my bed. Perhaps my parents forgot or they no longer care if I scratch. I scratch anyway. The blanket feels itchy. I don’t like it but the sheet smells nice. I hope my mother won’t see the blood spats. It will make her furious again. The rest of the day she will keep me busy, give me tasks to do. Perhaps I have time to read my book if she leaves. The shoes are waiting to be polished and I need to set the table for breakfast. My dad is at home. Perhaps he gives a hand or hides again? He hasn’t much time for me lately. He is busy, everybody is busy. There is no time to play.
Monday December 21, 2020
My mother is angry and my dad is angry too. I think he is angry although he never shouts. It is about the family. Who to visit when. My mother says they don’t like her and it’s a waste of her time. My father says it’s only once a year. I try to make no sound and stay in my room. The book is on my lap but it is hard to read if my mother yells and screams. I hope she will leave and the neighbours will not complain.
The front door slammed. I don’t know who left. I listened if I hear the car leave. I can recognize the sound of our car and hear it if it’s at the start of our street. I always can no matter where I am in our house. If I recognize the sound I know my mother will be home soon.
I wait, listen, keep my book open but it remains silent.
Tuesday December 22, 2020
There’s someone in my room. If I wake up in the middle of the night he stands at the end of my bed. He waits and I wonder why. I say it’s a he but I am not sure. I never saw a face and we do not speak but I think it’s a man because he is tall. He waits and is dressed in black. Black is a good colour if you do not want people to see you that easily. I like dark colours too but I don’t have black clothes except the dress for Christmas. It’s black and sometimes I have a dark blue one. The cloth is soft. He makes me feel save. He wasn’t always there but now he is. I think he is a friend. With him around I can sleep. I don’t have friends you know. Francois isn’t really my friend and Louis doesn’t play with me but I like him. His brother is nice to me too but I never been at their place. I was at Francoise’s home and visited Caroline. She lives far away. Perhaps she is a friend. Her mother is nice and so is her dad. He is milkman and delivers milk at people their homes. Her granddad lives next door and I saw him too. There is a door inside the house which you can use to visit him but he is outside with his rabbits most of the time. He likes rabbits and carrots. He has a field of carrots they are white. I never saw white carrots. Caroline gave me one. She took it out of the soil and I ate it. It tasted strange.
Wednesday December 23, 2020
Tonight we go to church. I do not like to go to church in the middle of the night. Someone made this up and now all people go to church? Over there are too many people. People I don’t know and most of them never visit the church. Why tonight? It’s cold outside, the wind blows and I only have a dress. It’s easy for boys. They wear trousers. Inside the church, it is cold too. I am always shivering. People wear their coats, hats, gloves and scarfs. My dad says I have to go to bed early and he will wake me up. Early? What does that mean? I always go early to bed. My parents don’t like to have me around. I don’t like it if anyone wakes me up. I am tired and I wish I could sleep for a hundred years just like the sleeping beauty. She is lucky. I don’t care if I don’t wake up. I don’t need a print, I don’t want to be a princess. The only thing I want is to sleep in peace and not being tired.
Thursday December 24, 2020
It’s Christmas but nothing changed. My mother says she wants to eat in a restaurant but we go to my grandmother and my aunt will be there too. If we go to a restaurant my dad calls them. If we go we go to Plaswijck. The food is good. I am never ill if I eat at that restaurant. My parents are not a good company and don’t talk to me but I can choose what I like to eat. At times it is boring being there because I am not allowed to speak and I have to sit still and straight up. Some children play or are underneath the table. I watch them.
First I have to help cleaning the house. After that we have breakfast. My mother set the table and there’s a bread she calls “clChristmashristmas-stoll”. I don’t like bread with stuff in it. The raisins en green en red pieces she calls “succades”. It tastes weird and leaves green and red colour behind on the bread. I don’t want it. I only like the almond paste inside of it. I take the rolls with the tiny black seeds on top. It’s good enough. I like those seeds.
We have to take the car to visit my granny. The dogs sit in the back and are not happy. They smell and it stinks. It takes long before we arrive and I feel car sick. The car smells too. I try not to vomit because it will make my mother angry. My dad tied me at the backseat which makes me feel miserable too.
I am not sure if my granny is happy to see us. Grandpa… he died. Now she lives alone in the big house. I think she likes it now she is the boss and can do as she likes. My aunt arrives later and my mother is angry with her and with my dad. I don’t know why because I left. I want to find grandpa and hear him play the trumpet but he isn’t there. There are only three photos of him. One is as he was young. It is at my granny’s side table.
We will stay the night at my granny’s home. My room is on the ceiling. I have to walk three stairs to get there. No one sleeps there and there’s no heater but I like the room, the small window in the roof and the bed. The bed is old. The mattress is filled with seagrass and there are no blankets but there’s a duvet with kapok. If I lay underneath and pull it over my head no one can see I am in it. The bed is nice and warm. If I stay with my granny I don’t need to wake up at 5:30 a.m. I don’t need to help her and my mother leaves me alone most of the time.
We had vegetable soup and goose for dinner. After dinner, my mother read something in my granny’s Bible. She has two. One to use and the other one is in a copper box. It’s the one the church gave her as she got married. I only saw it once. There are locks on it. My aunt sneaked into my room and told me a story about the three piglets. I like her but she looks sad, sad and scared.
Last night was a loud banging at the door. A bag with presents was at the front door but no Saint or Piet. My mother made hot chocolate and we all unwrapped our presents. I had two books, a game, and some new clothes.
Today I had to get out of bed at 6 .m. again. My mother doesn’t allow me to sleep longer. It’s30 minutes longer as on Monday’s and Friday’s but I feel so tired. My body feels tired and I have a hard time thinking. If I drop something my mother calls me clumsy. I stumbled over the bucket with cleaning water. She kept scolding me and hitting me where she could while I put towels on the wet carpet to try to get the water out of it. She hits me and hits me while I stamp at the towels. My father doesn’t respond. He never says anything. He’s cleaning the bathroom, sings and if he finished it he goes downstairs to clean the kitchen.
Saturday December 6, 2020
Sunday, the same boring day. I am only allowed to visit Sunday school if I cover myself. I am not sure if my parents visited the church. They are home if I come back home. I listened to a story, a Bible story, but I cannot focus. I don’t like to go back home and I do not want to pray. God never listens to me. If someone doesn’t listen he doesn’t exist. No one ever saw good. He is made up for those who have no one to turn to. Some people need something to believe in, my mother needs to get rid of me, and I want to die. If I am dead all problems are solved. No pain, no eczema, no one who scolds at and hit me, tells me everything is my mistake. Sunday is a bad day. The day of rest doesn’t mean no one beats you up. It just means you are not allowed to do anything. My dad reads the paper and I sit there do nothing. I do not want to eat. The food makes me sick.
Sunday December 7, 2020
I don’t feel too well. I listened to what the children in my class tell, how they spent the Saint Nicholas evening, the presents they received. Hans-Paul says nothing. He lives with his dad. I don’t know if he likes that. A mother is not always great. Mine is not and my mother said her mother was never kind to her. I am not sure if that is true. I only hear my mother scold at her mother. If my granny says something my mother tells us to get our coats or pack our bags and we leave. If we leave my granny starts begging “please, don’t go”. I would be happy if my mother left and wouldn’t return. The piece, I want peace.
Monday December 8, 2020
I have a geese game. It looks nice. I like geese because my granddad had geese. I am not sure if they are still around. My grandmother doesn’t like animals. Sometimes, at Christmas, we eat goose. My granny uses the eggs to bake a cake.
Tuesday December 9, 2020
It’s Wednesday. I only had school till noon. After that, I had to help my mother at home. I didn’t watch television and she sent me to my room because she didn’t want to see my face any longer. She says I have an ugly face and look exactly like my dad. I wonder how that can be. My dad is a boy and shaves his head. I am a girl and my hair is long. My mother is a mean person just like the mean girl in my class she pulls your hair and scratches with her nails. I don’t understand why girls do such a thing. I never do it but I have no nails. My father cuts them very short. A part of the nail is white I have nothing. It hurts if they are that short.
Wednesday December 10, 2020
We practiced Christmas carols at school. Some children join the school’s orchestra and some sing in a chorus. I don’t know when they practice. At home, it isn’t Christmas yet. My mother will tell me when it’s time to decorate the tree. We always have a huge, real one. At school, there aren’t trees yet but they will come. One in the hallway and a huge one in the auditorium which is my class.
In the afternoon I went to gymnastics. It’s always the same. I learn nothing, it’s cold, the dressing rooms stink and I look like an idiot. My pants always pop out of the stupid suit.
Thursday December 11, 2020
My mother was vacuuming as I came back home at noon for dinner and she still was at 3:30 p.m. She wasn’t singing but scolding and crying and mad at me. How can it take her so long to vacuum a room? I don’t know where the girl is. Shouldn’t she do that work? We didn’t drink tea but I had a cookie and tried to stay out of her way. I sat with the dogs outside. Later she told me to brush them. I have to brush till not a single hair sticks in the brush. Is that possible at all? I think their hair always falls off it never stops. Monty and Soot are both big dogs.
The girl left to her sister. It’s not for the weekend only. She will not come back. I guess she found a new home. A place where she can sit without hiding and has some peace.
WakeUpKitty 