My name's Alex. Some people
call me Al. I remember the year everything changed. All the
secrets in my life uncovered. At first it hurt, but now I found
that I liked it. I've learned so much. It's been a year since
this all happened.
My mom died when
I was 14. I lived with Dad, who abused and blamed me for my
mother's death. My aunt Peggy gave me my mother's old diary, to
write in about my thoughts and feelings about her death. Instead,
I write what happened when Dad abused me, and what I felt about
I soon learned that I could
talk, see, and hear God. He's quite sweet, and helped me through
my once miserable life. He talked to me and told me what I should
and shouldn't do. He's the one who told me the secrets I didn't
know. He told me secrets about my mother, about my father, about
my enemy (Natasha Meyer).
Now, about my once
miserable life. So you already know about my crappy parents. I'm
not in the "in" crowd. I was one of those people who studied all
the time. It was my way of hiding from Dad. Also, I was quite
ugly. I had acne, had frizzy brunette hair, tall, huge nose, and
wore glasses. At first I was a non-believer.
So, of course you all want
to know about God. At first I thought he was crazy. He told me I
was "Jesus". He told me I was supposed to write about Him. He
could be Himself, which he was a man that only I could see, or he
could transfer to someone's body and talk to me, which freaked me
God told me I was meant to
be the daughter of Him. He told me I was meant to write about Him
and my experience. So here I am writing it. This is my
I run upstairs
to my room. Crying, I shut the door. I ran to my bed and opened
my nightstand drawer. I got my diary that read "Alex's diary". It
was my mom's old diary. It used to read, "Peggy's diary", but I
scribbled out the "Peggy". It was purple, my favorite color. I
got my purple pen that matched and swung my brunette hair back. I
It happened again. It
started with yelling, then slamming his hands down, then pushing
me, then bad bruising violence.
walked to the mirror. I had a black eye. I touched it, then
flinched with pain. It hurt, bad.
I hurt all over. Especially
my heart. He had yelled at me, told me it was my fault Mom died.
How could it be? She died from a car wreck! I never even got to
My mom had been hit by a
drunk driver. He slid into her, while she was on the opposite
side of the road on a bridge. She fell in the creek and they
couldn't find her.
It hadn't always been this
way. My father used to love. He used to hug and protect me. I
used to run and hug him after work. Now I have fear when he walks
in the house. When he walks in the room, I shake.
It happened shortly after
my mom died. I was fourteen. Our whole family crying. Everything
I used to believe in God,
but now I know there is no God. What God would kill my innocent
mother? I used to socialize, now I study just to hide. Everyone
knows she's dead. They all stared at me. That's what happens when
something devastating like that happens.
After I examined the
bruises, I went to my bed and finished the diary entry. I looked
at my alarm clock. It was 1:00. I laid my head down and cried
myself to sleep.
The next day I
went to school. I met up with Jenny and we talked. Me and Jen are
best friends. We have been since I was five. Although we're
close, she doesn't know what "he" does. Sometimes her and other
classmates, that don't really care about me, catch some of the
bruises. I tell them I'm a dork and fall a lot. They believe
"Hey, where were you last
night? I called you", Jenny questioned. "Oh, I was studying", I
stuttered. Jen gave a concerned face, "Are you okay, Al?". I
turned and rolled my eyes behind her back, then gave her an
irritated voice," yes, Jen". They entered the classroom. "Look,
I'm just trying to help", she acted offended. "I'm sorry it's
just-", I started. "Everyone be quiet and sit", Mrs. Nightingale
yelled for them to be quiet. Everyone obeyed.
After school, I got my
favorite snack (pretzels), I got Diet Dr. Pepper and sat at the
couch. I turned on the TV and did my homework. After my show was
over, I went upstairs and studied. A few hours later, my dad came
in and went to my room to check on me. We nodded at each other.
That's how it always was. We barely ever talked unless we had
When I decided to take a
break from studying, I went downstairs. I saw my dad looking at a
framed photo of my mother and him.
"You're mom was a great
girl", he said, smiling, "I was lucky". I gave him a worried
smile and nodded. He was! Who would marry this guy? "She was
always lovely. She could make anyone smile. Ah, and her passion
for Christ. That's how I met her, you know?" I decided the story
was interesting, so I sat down and told him to go on. He smiled,
happy that I was interested. "I was at church and was really
strong in God, s o was she. We fell in love", He smiled with
delight. Wow, he was actually a good Christian? I don't think
this "God" likes him hitting me.
I gave a weak
smile and nodded.. I knew he was lying. I got up to leave when he
stopped me. "What's wrong?" he asked. He tried to find what I was
hiding. He squinted his eyes as if searching for something inside
me. I was quick to respond, terrified of what would happen,
"Nothing". "Nothing, huh? You don't believe me, do you? You don't
think I was a strong Christian", he said, trapping me. He already
knew the answer; he was waiting for my response, then hit me. I
gulped, shaking, trying to pull away. He gripped my arms harder.
All of a sudden I hear a loud RIIIING! I jumped with excitement.
I took a deep breath, as he walked to the phone. I didn't know if
I should run, or not. No, he'd outrun me, for
"Hello? Yes, oh yes, I am.
I forgot. My bad, I'll be there in a few", he talked in the
speaker and hung up. He turned to me, "I'm going to church", he
said it so calm, as if nothing just happened. He got his coat on
and left. I stood there, staring at him, stunned. "Do you want to
go", He yelled with frustration. I shook my head "no". "I'm going
to study", I said terrified. I was trying to avoid having to go
to stupid church, and avoid going with that
I watched him leave, then
went upstairs and did what I always did. I wrote in my diary. I
don't know why I wrote in it right after we got in a fight. I
guess because I thought maybe someday someone would find it and
report him. I also thought I'd show him my feelings with him when
I was safe. If that'd ever happen. I guess I had what Christians
He almost strikde again. I
was saved by the phone. He seemed so calm afterwards. How can you
be so calm when you just about hurt someone you love? No, how can
you hurt someone you love, period?
When I was finished I
locked it up and thought for a bit, then fell right asleep. It
was funny, I fell asleep trembling