Emma Eleven

I’ve just been going on with my silly little life, writing about school and friends and how unfair my life is, worrying about Beckett and Barnaby and babysitting and all those other trivial things. I thought my life was unfair? Well now it is. And not because of any of those things.

Let me explain: Mom smoked. She got cancer and died, when I was ten. Dad apparently has it because of secoundhand smoke. When I was called to the office, he was there with Amy and Kyle. He explained all this and then took us to the docters office, where we got examined and had x-rays and all that to make sure that we arn’t “at risk”. We arn’t.

You know what? I almost wish we were. Then we can all die together and meet up with Mom in heaven. Then Amy and Kyle and I wouldn’t be alone when Dad dies. He will, you know. Mom did. Why should I believe that he can survive?

I need Amy. Now.

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