My Diary

Hello. My name is Brooke Waters, don’t make fun of my name. Let me tell you a little bit

about myself, yesterday I turned 18. Of course, it’s only fitting that I had the party of the

century. My family includes my loving mother, Sue, and my honest father, Jason. About 11

years ago, we, mostly my mother, had a new addition to the family, Adam. I attend a nice

boarding school in the best part of Maine. I can fairly say, that my popularity standards are

near off the charts, but I’m not the snobby, rude in-your-face popular girls you see on those

movie screens. I reside in a nice Victorian house on the East Side of town. I do have an

occupation of working as a nurse at my father’s hospital.

Everyday when I look into the mirror, I see a woman with vibrant, light caramel hair which

cascades down her back in loose curls, and she has soft green eyes to match. She has

high cheek bones, a perfect nose, and full red lips.

Now I could tell you that. In fact, I really wish I could, but I would be lying, and that’s not

what this story is about. This is my real story.

Hey. My name is Brooke Waters, please don’t make fun of my name. But if you did I

can’t blame you, everybody already does. Yesterday I just turned 18, of course, just like every

other year, I celebrated alone. If you can’t already tell right now, I have no friends, except for

one, Casey, but I will get to her later. My family includes my brother, Adam and my god awful

father, Jason. My mother, Sue died when she gave birth to Adam. This is around the time my

father found his true friend Jack Daniels. The main reason I don’t have any friends is

because I don’t go to school, I get home schooled by my teacher (nun) Mrs. Haberdasher.

She is such a fricking prick. As I said before, we do live in Maine, but that Victorian house I

told you about, well it burned to the ground about 5 years ago. Since my father can’t get a job,

mostly because of his alcoholism, we now reside in a trailer. It is probably the worst place to

live in. Well I can’t say that, at least I have a roof over my head.

To say the least, I do have a job, but it’s not what you think. Every night my dad comes

home around 10 o’clock, and it’s always the same scene, he barges through the door, a

bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, and he is plastered. Jason (I don’t call him dad anymore,

he is not fit for the title) charges into my brother, Adam’s room. So my job is to try to defend

poor Adam from the rain of punches Jason lands on him. You see, Jason thinks its Adam’s

fault for killing mom, so every night, Jason turns him into a black and blue sac of nothing. Oh,

and here is the kicker, Adam is not allowed to cry, or he beats harder. And even after the

multiple failed attempts on saving Adam, my job isn’t over. When Jason passes out on the

couch, I grab the first aid kit from under my bed, go into Adam’s room, and become his

personal nurse. And when I fix him up the best I can, I lie down next to him, and watch him

cry himself to sleep.

When I wake up every morning, I do my chores, (which include, making sure Adam isn’t

dead, and cleaning up the mess Jason made before he crashed), and when I’m done, I do

my “girl thing.” That is when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I see a woman who

has curly hair and green eyes. I see a woman who has nothing unique about herself, and I

hate every patch of skin I have on me.

I’ve decided to write my life in this journal, so I can tell one person, or the world about

what happens to a girl named Brooke Waters. If you don’t like depressing romance books

then this isn’t a story for you. On the off side you have a minute or two to spare, then I need

someone to read this. I need someone to read this horrific story I call my life.