September 8, 1995
Dear Diary,
I saw Mrs. L. today after
school. I was walking down the hall in
my gym uniform, all red and sweaty from field hockey practice. She said I
should try doing cross country this year, so I think I will. I was hoping that she would be the supervisor
for it, because she was last year, but someone else is in charge. I would be
more encouraged if she was the supervisor.
Melyssa B, a really nice friend
that I met at camp last summer, is earnestly begging me to tell Mrs. L. about
what dad does to me. I'm afraid to. Even though Melyssa and I talked about dad
this summer, and we both figured it's wrong, I don't know. Somehow, I feel like his harassment isn't
even that serious. He doesn't just go
out and do it, he does it when he's "tickling me". That's what he calls it anyway. Maybe he thinks it's a game, I don't
know.
[and it continues... 70,000 more words or so)
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