The Diary ~ January 4th 1989

Today after school, I went to Natalie’s house. Natalie and I have been friends since Kindergarten. Our Mother’s are “best” friends and share everything which is really hard to say, knowing my Mother hates her and does talk about a plan she has to kill her. Natalie’s Mom is the kind of Mom you wish for when you have a monster for a Mother. She is the PTA Mom, the devoted, loving, caring, and truly enjoys being a Mom. She told me once it was all she ever hoped and dreamed for, as a child. She is the reason I ask God every night, how does he choose? How does he choose who gets the great Mom’s and who gets the monsters? What did I do in Heaven or in a past life, as some religions believe, that caused me to have to live with my parents? What did I do? Why does God hate me? He never answers.

Natalie’s Dad has a back injury from a car accident several years ago and he takes pain pills when it acts up. Natalie talks about how he has bottles of them because he does not take them very often. He does not like the way they make him feel. Natalie takes some from time to time to sell at school; so today that is what I am here for. I read online at school, that you can sedate someone with pain medication. I just need to find the right dose. My Mother informed me that I have a doctor’s appointment, for my annual physical, in 2 weeks; so I will ask the doctor. I will tell him I am doing a research paper on drugs, overdose, and rape and hopefully, I will learn what I need. I hate the doctor’s but this time there are two great benefits, closer to killing my parents and I won’t get beat for the next two weeks. They cannot risk the doctor asking questions about bruising, coughing up blood, or a broken bone.

Well, I scored, as they say, at Natalie’s. I got 20 pills and really didn’t have to steal them; she just gave them to me. I figure by kill day, I should have a least 60, just to be sure. This won’t work if they are not incapacitated. Now to move on to the plan of getting them together outside of the house and near my Father’s warehouse. I can drive them; but I can’t carry them. Dragging them sounds fun, but I don’t think a girl of 97 pounds could drag almost 200 pounds of my Father and 112 pounds of my Mother. This one is going to take me a little time to figure out. I don’t want to drive too far, for risk of being caught before I can kill them; so the closer to the warehouse the better. Now I have to figure out after I get to the warehouse getting them in there and on the table. I am not too worried about putting my Mother on the slab, the slab is not as relevant to her; just my father. She never used the slab for anything and would laugh at how much my Father liked it. I was thinking on the dirty floor was good enough for her.

I do know that I will kill her first and then I will have more time to kill my Father. Why do I want more time with him? Beatings are one thing, it is cruel, destructive, debilitating, and I fear for my life every time, but being forced to have sex with your Father every night of your existence is worse. I watch movies and read books where sex is special, beautiful and your first time is supposed to be something you look forward to and cherish. I will never have that. I lost my virginity on my 11th Birthday.

My Father told me it was time to learn how to be a proper woman and future wife. I had no idea at that point other than the basics what sex was. I did not understand that your first time could hurt, that you bleed afterward, how your body reacts. All I knew is that my father told me to take off my clothes and as he did his and he had sex with me. The pain was as bad as being punched and I started to cry. Which he told me to stop and told me if I did not stop, he could make it a lot more painful. I stopped crying and when he was finished he smiled and said I was a good girl and that he would be back tomorrow night to start showing me how to please a man correctly. Every night after, he slept in my bed and I became his sex partner. He makes sure to use a condom, to prevent me from becoming pregnant and no evidence. My Mother has known from the beginning. Sometimes watches after her beatings to make sure my Father isn’t too kind. To me what my Father does is far worse. Beatings heal, once I no longer have her to beat me, I can get help to move past it. I have read several books on kids who healed and had good lives after being physically abused. My problem is how do I tell my future boyfriends or husband that my Father was my first and my one and only for years? How will they ever accept me? How will they not be sickened by it? How will anyone love me or want to marry me? That part of my life will always be scared marked and belong to him. To me, he deserves to suffer longer. To suffer for the life he took from me, the future I wanted but will never have. I wanted to find Prince Charming and have him save me, promise to love me and live happily ever after, with him and our children. I will never have that I will always be alone and damaged.