Diary Case

Dear Diary,

Why must I be cursed with such a strong mind boggling power? The power of my mind can move the saltcellar on the table, just as easily as producing deaths, earthquakes, and other, even worse catastrophes. Although my mother has explained to me that I could not have caused Rosa's death, I find it very hard to believe. Rosa's death is my entire fault! Maybe, if I had not said anything, it wouldn't have happened. I cannot help but feel lonely and guilty. I miss my sister, her grace and charm, her indescribable beauty, and the infallible relationship we shared. Tonight I went to the kitchen, so I could comfort myself against Nana's breast. When I arrived the shutters and door of the kitchen were closed. I knew something strange was going on in that room. I stood on tiptoe and looked through a crack between the wooden shutter and the window frame. I saw everything. Dr.Cuevas, the man I once thought of as sweet and gentle appeared as a dark, fat vampire, just like the ones in Uncle Marcos's books. I saw everything from Rosa's snow white legs and naked feet, to a stranger kissing Rosa on the lips, the neck, the breast, and between her legs, to the stranger picking her up and carrying her. I could not bring myself to move until he first lights of dawn appeared. I slipped back into bed, feeling with me, the entire silence of the world. Silence has filled me utterly.

Dear Diary,

Nobody understands that if I wanted to speak, I could. I just think speaking is pointless, plain and simple. My parents don't understand this and try to get me to speak constantly. They first hired Dr.Cuevas. I hated when he came over, shoving medicine down my throat and swabbing my throat with borax honey. I would run away from him finding refuge in the furthest corner of the house. Finally he abandoned his treatments and referred me to Rostipov. After he examined me thoroughly he determined that my case was not within his province, since I was silent because I didn't feel like speaking, not because I was unable to. Finally someone understood! Nevertheless, my parents continued trying everything from sugar pills to refusing to let me eat unless I spoke, to get me to speak. Obviously, none of it worked. Nana made it her own responsibility to try to get me to speak. She would invent all sorts of desperate strategies to scare me. I grew immune to becoming scared over the course of a few weeks. Why can nobody just accept me for the way I am? If I don't want to speak I won't. Nothing anybody does or says will change my mind, unless it is me.