A kid’s Diary
Publishers note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, religious organisations, religious beliefs, social groups, events or locales is completely coincidental.
Published in 2013. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means, mechanical, electronically, digital, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
A kid’s Diary
It has barely been 3 months into the New Year and, I am already contemplating revising my new year’s resolutions. They are not engraved on stone so I think, as the absolute owner of my personal thoughts and “will-be” sometime commitments; I’m absolutely entitled to make as many changes as I want. No need for apologies, unless the apology is directed to me personally but that happens very rarely. I’m the one who always makes the first move towards reconciliation and I want to change this. It’s part of my New Year’s resolution change list and will stick by it. Robo-Chris, the new kid down the road – it’s funny kids at school call him Robo-Chris - I guess it’s because of his very looong neck and the uniquely red square shaped headphones he never takes of his ears. He better though apologise next time he accuses me of making fun of his stupid headphones, or of flattening his twice sharpened pencil. Every time he is upset with me I always go all-out to get right with him, even if this requires an apology for something I never ever did!
Anyway, back to the subject. I composed a list of things I want to change or improve this year, 11 of them to be precise, but there’s one, a very personal matter that I did not add onto the resolution list, in case it accidentally falls into the hands of the wrong crowd, someone for example like...hm, my parents, or my classmates or even the man with the long beard that dresses in long skirt type coat and nods his head every day at the exact same time as he passes by on his way to the mosque. There is a massive chance, they interpret this one line string of thought the wrong way and get very annoyed with me, maybe very angry or get hurt too much, so at the moment I might have to pass, lock it in my head and revisit it when the time is right, perhaps when I am a bit older and can discuss it with someone, ideally with a female, perhaps with my teacher Miss Philips, the sweetest and nicest teacher I ever had, with the cotton-soft hands and the nicest smelling perfume..I better not say any more, even this can be interpreted the wrong way.
Couldn’t sleep at all last night Monica, don’t know why. This thought of mine, that if I speak about this hot issue of mine, things between me and my immediate family might change forever is really terrorising the socks out of me. It did chased away my sleep, something that even a fully caffeine loaded cup wouldn’t manage to do so effectively (haven’t tried it yet to be honest, but I’m sure my guessing is always right.)
Before I go any further, I must admit it feels awkward and wired to name a diary “Monica” but she is the only non-human someone that will listen to me without being prejudiced, biased one-sided or judgemental and, since I will be spending a good chunk of my time, talking to my diary, instead of saying “dear diary” this or “dear diary” that like a sissy, I decided to name it Monica.
I love the name Monica, it sounds quite affectionate, loving and motherly somehow, don’t ask me why, plus she might be the only female buddy or whatever in my life ever the way things are going....unless I address New Year’s resolution number 12 now, without hesitation.
Obviously, every time I say Monica, my thoughts do travel to the White House and especially to the oval office in Washington DC, where some other Monica took “good care” of President Clinton while Hillary was on a gov trip, but I do try to hound these thoughts away and keep my Monica, as pure as possible.
Somehow, I keep diverting from the subject, part of me is making me do it on purposes, but then again, I do want to get it out of my chest. How though? I’m baffled! Is it really that important of an issue, worthy of taking such a risk of damaging my relationship with those that love me? But then again, why does it have to be either black or white, could it not result in a mutually beneficial outcome for both sides?
But if I keep it only between me and you Monica, then I am not risking anything really, am I? But not getting anywhere either!
Well, unless someone too nosy sniffs you out from your hiding place and then.....I don’t even want to think what might happen...Have to be sure I can handle a situation like this should it arise.
Today school was dragging like there was no tomorrow. Couldn’t wait for Mr Henderson, my maths teacher to shut up and give us a break from all this problem solving palaver - can he not understand that the globe does not evolve around his micro-mathematical world? He always makes us stay after class for at least 10 to 15 minutes extra going on and on, apparently to let the knowledge sink into our brains...don’t know how that’s supposed to happen but anyway, the fact is that, that is the exact time my brain switches off, re-boots and goes into sleep mode!! Not to mention that my batteries by then have drained out completely.
Yesterday night just before bed time, I spoke to my “mum” about my resolutions’ list I drafted up and about the fact that I am sooo determined to stick by them no matter what, but didn’t seem interested what so ever. To be perfectly honest, I’ve got no problems with my parents (If at all any 9 year old boy can say that relatively speaking), but it really upsets me when they completely switch off and don’t listen.
Especially my mum will either change subject completely while I’m talking and start lecturing me on room hygiene and tidiness and the fact that this should be my main priority and then I should concern myself with other issues of less or no importance. On the other hand, my dad will simply node his head in agreement and say “will talk about this latter” and this “later” point never comes!! At least he doesn’t give me a headache with boring nonsense! I actually said to my mum the other day, that I might have to share all my secrets and concerns with Monica instead and no one else and the response to that was “I should not be discussing family issues and personal matters with non-family members and strangers”.
Doooiiiing!!!!You tell me know how I’m supposed to explain to them that you are actually my closest family member, my buddy, my friend, my everything! My parents will probably think I’m insane and book me a 2 hour session with a psychologist!! I won’t blame them though, not everyone talks to a diary and names it Monica!! It won’t be a bad idea after all; maybe I would find my inner strength and open up and unload my heavy burden that slowly but gradually is weighing me down. From movies I’ve seen, psychologists are kind of trustworthy dudes who will actually listen to you and help if they feel like it, so probably a trip to a doctor will certainly do me good.
Our schools head teacher Miss Doris called me in her office this morning and handed me a sealed letter to give to my parents, repeatedly warning me to be opened by no-one except my parents.
She made it very clear to me that she will be watching me, so I better not do anything silly!! (had no idea she was a bionic-woman!) I wonder if this letter has got to do anything with my progress but it’s too early for this kind of stuff. Perhaps its related to a complaint I made to her, about John and Mohammed, 3 years my senior acting though 6 years my junior? - the schools greatest bullies that no-one dares to stand up against.
I’ve got no problem doing it, but my parents say I must resolve any dispute by reasoning and not by force, whatever that means, but sometimes I believe a few slaps and punches can make a huge difference you know!!
I should’ve insisted on joining the Saturday Thai Boxing after school class, even if I had to attended classes without my mum’s knowledge, because instead of being the victim, I would’ve beaten the socks out of both of them!!
In any case, I did keep my promise and left the letter in my dad’s office on the desk. The worst that can happen will be a 25 minute lecture from both and that’s it. Life continues.
On my way home from the corner shop today, I bumped into Melissa, a very sweet and good looking girl who lives 3 houses down the road, close to Pedro a good friend of mine. She said to me that her parents told her that she must be nice to me because I am a .... “special case”?? A special what? I replied. What makes someone a special case? Plus, she has never been horrible to me. It did upset me quite a lot, but am very keen to find out what her parents meant by “special case”.
When I insisted on explaining what she meant, she lowered her head and dashed. She said will talk about it tomorrow at school. She did give me a dazzling smile though..
I have noticed a “special” kind of treatment towards me the last few years from teachers, neighbours and obviously classmates. I thought it’s got to do with the fact that some people were born to be nice to others and some no matter how good you are to them will remain nasty to you, but obviously I was mistaken. It must be something else, which I might have a faint clue, but will not make any comments at the moment until I’m pretty sure that that’s the case.
Today is a very special day for me. This day, 9 years ago somewhere in same distant land, some woman gave birth to a little boy that happens to be me. L The reason I pulled this unhappy face is because I never got to meet my real mum and never ever heard about my biological dad, was never told the reasons my parents abandoned me and how I ended up been adopted by my current parents. You might say that I sound too ungrateful and I should be proud to have 2 caring loving parents who strive to bring me up making sure I am lucking nothing. Don’t take me wrong Monica, I do love my parents and I am very grateful and appreciative of what they have done for me, but this cloud of mystery surrounding my past and the pressure of having to accept, adapt and conform to this “new” concept of modern liberal parenthood is depressing me.
Wow, I got it off my chest finally, at least you’ve got same sort of idea of what has been bothering my mind all those months. Well the difficult part is yet to come. If I want to get closure on this matter, I must find the strength to discuss it with my parents once and for all. It does no good to keep it inside me and also keep my parents in ignorance, I’m sure they don’t deserve to be treated this way and I feel bad already, but sometimes the truth hurts, not everyone wants to be faced with reality, however once it’s done and dusted it will bring healing and closure, something I urgently need right now.
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