4.Night #2

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I rush to my room when I get home. Curious to see what I will find.

The house is empty, nobody is home, but I am use to it only two people living in a family home. Sometimes it felt empty even with my dad around.

I reach my room and fall down on my bed. Taking my laptop out of my backpack and opening it.

I do the same as last night and enter his list of apps and finding the one I was looking for, My dairy.

I click on it. It asks me for a password, normally this is the easy part. Most people are sentimental. It has to be numbers and letters. I'm going with the only thing I know about him, his sister. I start typing Sammie, she is six which means she was born, 2011.

I'm in, Wow was that too easy or am I getting good?

Shaking it off I begin to scroll through his dairy entries, The first one dated back 5 years on 24
March 2012.

I open it and begin to read.

Dear mommy

Today is the 24 of March 2012.
Sammie is turning one today. A year has gone since I last seen you and it feels like forever. This day will always be one of the hardest days in my life but also one of the most blessed days. This was the day you left us, all though I wish you haven't but to be fair you left us with Sammie. She was the only reason my life hasn't come to a complete stop, the only reason daddy gets up in die morning and tries harder than yesterday to look at the future. There is a little piece of you in her, in the way she acts and the way she looks at you and the way she plays. I can see she is searching for you even though  she only saw you once she felt you and still does. Mommy I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused daddy last week. I didn't want to fight at school. Please don't be disappointed in me. I'll be better next time and punch him in the stomach and not the nose. Please tell God when he is done with you to send you back to us because, sometimes its hard to sleep when Sammie is crying and dad's sandwiches are squares and not hearts. I miss you mommy.

Love you forever
Sha

I suddenly realise that I'm crying and wipe away the tears. For a twelfth year old to write a letter like this is killing me. He had so much pain.

I feel bad for judging him before I even knew the half of it. I don't think he talks to any one. He writes it all out. I scroll through all the entries. There must be over a thousand

There's a knock on my door . I wipe my face, "Come in" I say.

My dad opens the door and was about to say something when he stops. He tilts his head to the side and squints his eyes,"Baby, have you been crying?" He asks concerned.

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