October 5th, 1971

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October 5th, 1971

Dear diary,

Today I was drawing pretty pictures for my friends, but dad came up to me and ripped them in tiny pieces.

I started to cry because he was being mean to me. I have been working hard on those pictures for my friends, and he ruined it! He is always picking on me.

He said, "mistakes like you shouldn't have friends," then he kept calling me names. He doesn't like me anymore.

I don't know why he is being mean, I did nothing to him. He keeps saying that I will never have friends and I will never have anyone. He looks at me like he wishes I was gone.

I tried to pick up the pieces of the drawing he ripped, but then he stepped on my little hand!

I ran to my room crying. Why does daddy have to be so mean? I wish I had my mom. I miss her.

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