Diary #5

Diary #5

Dear Mom,

Something isn’t right in me.

Each time Maddox does something sweet and nice, I want to slap him for it. Why can’t he see that I’m not deserving of those things? I’m damaged.

But then I think about them later, and I go all mushy inside. But when I’m faced with it, when he presents it to me or does something nice like buy me Starbursts, my favorite candy every time he’s out, I just want to scream.

So, yeah, something isn’t right with me. I’m broken. I’m wrong.

All my parts got mixed up, and I can’t be put back together. I’m a mutant toy from Toy Story. Sid’s gotten a hold of me, and instead of a body, I have spider legs. Instead of a head, I have a robotic arm. Instead of a heart, I have a hand.

How do I fix it when I’m unsure what needs to be fixed because it’s all messed up?

Love,

Darcie

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