[nonfiction] Diary of a Girl who Wants to be Good
by Reality Grace McCallister, '23
Dear Diary,
My name is Olivia Grace Norwood, but my dad calls me Olivia not so Graceful. One time when we went camping, I hadn’t been outside for more than thirty seconds before my hands started bleeding. My dad hadn’t even parked the truck in our site yet.
I am one of those kids who could fall walking up the staircase, always covered in bruises.
My dad gets mad a lot, but its ok. I know that it’s my fault that he gets so mad. I wish I could be good, so he didn’t have to yell all the time, but every time I try, I fail. There has to be something wrong with me, I don’t get why can’t just be good girl.
One time my sister and I were playing tag in the house when one of us broke something. I can’t remember what it was, but it must have been important. When my dad heard the noise he came running, and when he saw the mess, I swear his face turned bright red. He bent us both over and gave us a big swat. I understand, we aren’t supposed to run in the house.
My sister started sobbing and sobbing so I told her if she tried to think of something else it won’t hurt as bad; mine don’t even hurt at all anymore.
My dad heard me say this and said, “Oh it doesn’t hurt anymore? Well, let me get something that’ll hurt” and whipped me with his leather belt. It’s okay. It’s my fault. You’re not supposed to lie, especially to family. I shouldn’t have told her it didn’t hurt when I knew it did.
Today is one of the most special days of the year, May 9th, my birthday. I was very excited to see what kind of gift and decorations I was getting this year, but when I ran out to the living room, I saw nothing. No balloons, no streamers, no cake, nothing. I figure my dad forgot. He is very forgetful, always busy at work and with his lady friends, and sometimes he forgets to get dinner.
When I asked him about the presents, he said that only good girls get birthdays. Which I guess makes sense; I wore a dress to school yesterday when I knew that was against the rules. I wanted to look pretty for picture day. Why can’t I just be good? I would so much happier if I was just good.
I am so very excited. Today I finally get to go over to a friend’s house. I have never gone to a friend’s house because I am always grounded, but I have been extra good, and asked my dad if I could go, and he said, yes! Her name is Justine and she is my absolute best friend. I just know we are going to have the best night of our lives.
I just got back from my friend’s house, but it wasn’t the best night of our lives. When I came home, my dad was sitting on the couch waiting for me. He looked really sick and he could barely stand up. He told me I was in big trouble because I left without asking him and he punched me right in the eye and told me to go to my room. It stings so bad and my eye won’t stop tearing up. I swore I told him, but I must be making it up again. Why am I so stupid? Why can’t I do anything right? I can’t believe I got him so upset when he was clearly not feeling well.
Today everyone asked about my eye and why it was swollen and black, I told them it was my fault and that I was just so dang clumsy. I don’t think they believed me though, cuz that lady with pretty skirt is talking to my dad again and last time she did that I go in big trouble. My dad is a good dad and deserves a good daughter, I guess I have to try harder tomorrow. Goodnight diary, my best and only friend.
It took me years to realize that it wasn’t about me being a bad kid, but my dad being a bad parent. He had his own demons and used me as an outlet. I want you to know that if you are or ever were in a situation like this, you are not a bad kid.
Reality Grace McAllister is a Biology major.
Connor Kilbride edited this story.
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