Dear Diary ~ A Page From Mary's Diary

Dear Diary,

Today Gwen reached a new level.  Just when I thought she couldn’t get any worse.  She told me I was a waste of skin.  Then she laughed.

I was so shocked for a minute I just stood there like a dummy.

A waste of skin?

I immediately thought what I would look like without any skin, and then it occurred to me that I’d be dead.  Without skin my innards would fall out and plop onto the floor, and then I’d shrivel up like a mummy.  Just a pile of dried up bones.  Is that what she wants me to be?  A dried up pile of bones?  Does she wish I were dead?  Because that was what it sounded like.

She must really hate me to wish me dead.  I can’t figure out why.  It must be my big ugly mouth she’s always complaining about.  I didn’t realize I was that horrible – I must be, if she’d rather have me dead than to hear me speak.

Then I got to thinking: maybe I’d be doing everyone a favor if I were just a pile of dried up bones.  At least then, they wouldn’t have to complain about the waste of my skin.

Would it help them if I were dead?

It sure seems that way, especially whenever Gwen tells me stuff like this.

I’ve got to go, Rose just came into our room, and Mom is yelling at me because I forgot to clear my dishes after dinner.

There I go again.

Wasting my skin.

Wish I knew how I could change their minds.

See you later, Diary.

Maybe.

--Mary

 Ugh! I really don't like Gwen right now. 

Do you? 

Tomorrow is interview day!

See you then!!