February 1st 1972

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February 1st, 1972

Dear diary,

I wonder if daddy's okay. He was bleeding really bad. I got really mad and I don't know why. It felt like my mind was being controlled. I started to have a bad feeling.

Mom said that I'm her special little girl, and that I'm just like her. She told me that if I love her, I have to do this. After all, daddy was the one who killed mommy.

I visited him in jail again. He was sleeping on the small bed. Mommy said, "Now,"

I closed my eyes and started to picture daddy screaming and crying and blood coming out of his eyes. It was like a movie and I was just watching it. I didn't even think those scary things, they were just there like someone put them there. I opened my eyes and daddy was on the floor now, blood all around him. He wasn't moving.

I started to cry. Daddy was dead. I killed my dad. I don't know how, but I felt this power in me and it just happened.

I thought about the flower pot, and how I fixed it just after breaking it. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to imagine him alive again. But when I opened my eyes, I saw that he was still on the ground, not moving. I stepped back and my legs felt weak. A single tear streamed down my face. I couldn't fix him.

My Mommy was behind me and patted my shoulder. She thanked me and said,

"You're my special little girl, Ruby. I love you."

I didn't say anything back this time. Instead, I ran out of there, as far as possible. I turned to see if Mom was still there, but she wasn't.

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