Dina's diary

CHAPTER ONE


January 19, 1892
New York City, New York
Dina Danison
Dear Diary,
The days are getting colder. There is new snow everyday. It glistens like a thousand diamonds, the most valuable things ever seen on this block . I am scared for Tessa. She’s so little, and the City is merciless. She could get lost, or sick, or hurt. She’s just a little girl. I fear for Kara too. She is trying to be brave, in this time of terror. We are all grieving for Mother. That was such a sudden loss, and so terrible. Abrianna is doing the best out of all of us. I don’t know how she manages. She is my role model, though I’ll never ever admit it to her. Caileigh is being so difficult. All she does is scream and brawl around like a banshee. The Roberts might give Abrianna a job.
That would surely lift all of our spirits to have full stomachs for once. And soft beds, and books, and paintings and other wonderful things like that. The things that Father burned. The lovely, most extraordinary, the marvelous things that he didn’t take a second glance at. My books, mother’s books, Kara’s books, Abrianna’s paintings. The beautiful things; the valuable things that had been thrown away, discarded, as my mother’s life had been. It had been like he had wanted to get rid of her. Like he didn’t want to cherish in the faded memories of her smiling face. Like the memories had hurt him. That was, after all, what he had said; that every memory of her had hurt him. Like it hurt him to think of her. That every once-alive memory was actually a dagger that stabbed him in the heart when he saw the remnants of her joyful reign of our little household. Abrianna says that he didn’t want us anymore; but I say that every time he looked at us, he saw her, reflected in our somber faces. That we were like those beautiful sentimental belongings that had reminded him of her.
Sincerely,
Dina Adele Danison