Daddy gave me this journal 'cause he thinks I'm no good at expressing my 'motions. But I think that I just don't have anyone to express my 'motions to. Maybe this should help, 'cause I would like to feel happy again real bad. It's been a long time and now with Daddy outta work and Tommy dead, I don't think I can take much more sadness. Tommy was my little brother. He got diphtheria a few months back. Took him so quick that he was six feet under before you could blink. Ma was so upset, that she didn't talk or eat for a few weeks. 'Cause Ma just sat in her rocker all day, Daddy made me help with takin' care of the other little ones- all five of 'em. Donnie, Carol, Ruth, Peter, Janice, and Richie are their names. I'm Billie; I'm 15. My family and I live in a Hooverville, an' we're gonna be going on to the 4th year of livin' in this dump. No money, barely any food, but lots of dust and dirt. That's all we's got right now- dust and dirt.
YOU ARE READING
Depression
Historical Fiction"Daddy gave me this journal 'cause he thinks I'm no good at expressing my 'motions. I think that I just don't have anyone to express my 'motions to. Maybe this should help, 'cause I would like to feel happy again real bad. "
