Saturday, June 16, 1816
Never has there been a more delighted girl than me. This morning, shortly after I’d given the chickens their morning feed, Father told me he needed to speak with me. He then surprised me with this heavenly, leather-bound diary! My olfactory sense leapt when opening its crisply fresh pages. Although Father did anyway, it was unnecessary for him to remind me that this special gift should be cherished and not to carry on expecting further gifts for a time, especially none of this extravagance. Father says for one to have too many frivolities, would spoil them; he or she may lose their humility or sense of gratitude. I certainly do not want that to happen to me.
I’m pleased for the chance to practice my writing and to tell about my excitement for our travels from St. Louis all the way to San Francisco, the great valleys of California, a place I thought I’d only ever hear tell of or see in my dreams! We are traveling by stagecoach line, yet currently stopped at a frontier station so the horses can be tended to. I’m glad to have a stationary table now, for it was difficult for me to write steadily whilst traveling in the coach. Although the roads may be somewhat poorly maintained in spots, Mama says not to comment on the swaying and bouncing motion of the stagecoach, for it is to be seen as a blessing for baby brother Georgie; it lulls him into a sublime and contented sleep. He does have the likeness of a miniature angel, cradled in Mother’s arms.
Father says it should take us only about three weeks to arrive at Aunt Rose’s. How remarkably fast! Sadly, though, her husband, Uncle Richard, has passed recently and it is a family’s place to comfort her in a time of grief and help along the transition until she is settled, having found peace and God’s love once more. A couple times, I’ve happened to see Mother crying at the thought of her dear sister’s anguish. Father embraces and gently consoles her.
We’ve known several loved ones who’ve passed on to God’s Kingdom. After pneumonia came between life and my best friend Katherine, I fell into despair. Now, with Uncle Richard’s passing following so soon after hers, an even greater feeling of being lost fell upon me. I spoke to God, seeking guidance and received an answer in my heart: one should recall the living years of the deceased with gratitude. How blessed we were to have had it, the time we were given. Perhaps if Mother realized this, she would not be inclined to cry anymore.
Thinking of the closeness of Mother and Father, and of Aunt Rose with Uncle Richard, makes me wonder at what age I may ever be so fortunate as to find my own companion, a husband, a soul mate. We could enjoy this beautiful life together, taking walks, reading together, praying. I would ensure the grounds were tended to, the household, the meals prepared, and most importantly his children cared for while he works hard to earn a living for us.
However, I know better than to wish for what has not yet been seen fit for me to have, and instead, love what is right before me. For now, I will be breathing in the stunning landscapes and views that I’m being shown along the route, for we will be resuming our travels again shortly. I will try to focus on that and not consume my thoughts with worry about the next stretch of road; Father says, the area can be known to be infested with outlaws, looking to rob travelers. We’ve brought along spare gold to satisfy their sinful desires and make it away, hopefully, unscathed. Father says robbers are lost souls who deserve pity, for the only thing they believe is required, in order to find peace, is gold. Oh, how mistaken they are. I will look forward to writing more in your pages at our next stop.
Love and Blessings,
Josephine Viola Thacker
From: Jordyn Sweetie Pea <email@example.com>
To: Kelsee Bay Bay <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: Sat, June 16, 2016 at 12:16 PM
Subject: Please, someone, rescue me!
Uhg, I don’t know how I feel about this new tablet. I mean, the white one is cute and all but maybe I should’ve just begged my dad for a laptop instead because now I really want a full keyboard. Maybe he’ll get me one for my birthday if I, like, pretend to clean the house and do my homework and shit. XD He loves to reminisce about the old days when he used to go on mission trips, so, I could get in his good graces by prodding him into that subject, then, just endure the long hours of his blithering. It was kind of cute the way he hid the tablet behind his back and was all excited to surprise me with it. I was so tired because he woke me up and I was all like, “Yay, Daddy!” But really, it’s not that big of a deal. Everyone has one, they aren’t even that expensive and, hello, my parents can definitely afford it.
Anyway, I know you’re at dance camp doing your ballet thing or whatever so I thought I’d just e-mail you and tell you about this bullshit family trip I’m on right now in an attempt to distract me from the pitifully depressing situation I’m having to put up with. We are driving, not flying, mind you, all the way to San Francisco. I just googled St. Louis to San Francisco and it takes about 30 hours to get there, and that’s not counting stops. My dad is so irritatingly giddy about this new, 2016 Yukon SUV which is why he insisted on driving. I guess he, like, really wants to go sight seeing. This car is pissing me off at the moment because there isn’t an outlet to charge my phone or tablet in the backseat. Kill me. Just kill me. And I won’t even mention how my baby brother is crying incessantly and my parents are tensely arguing about him and whether or not they’re willing to break the law and hold him, out of his carseat, while the vehicle is in motion. So, yeah, like I said, not even going to mention all that.
Ok, so, the reason for this “family bonding” time is because my mom’s sister, my Aunt Rhonda, is having some kind of mental breakdown. My Uncle Ryan died and she just can’t deal. I feel bad for her and all but it’s not like anyone gave a shit about me when I was having a nervous break last year. Sorry, Auntie Rhonda, you better get used to it. Everybody dies. It’s been, like, close to six months. You’ll get over it. You’re cute; you’re gonna find another man for sure. My mom keeps breaking down in tears every five minutes and then this miserable, uncomfortable song-and-dance starts again between them where my dad feigns sweetness and my mom thanks him and then he says how important it is for her to be strong for the kids and for Rhonda and her kids. How am I related to these people?
Our family just can’t get themselves together. We are all so lost. My mom wants us to attend church services more frequently. I’m not exactly sure why because we all know very well it would just be for show and lip service. My mom constantly tries to scare me and crush my spirit with religious guilt crap. My parents don’t believe in anything but money and the opinion of others perception of our family. My dad tells me how important it is for me to work hard in school and get a college education but it’s like, what for? I can already work at his company; I’m probably smarter than most of his employees. My mom won’t even talk to me, really. I’ve literally seen her stumbling around the house with a bottle of prescriptions pills in one hand and a bottle of merlot in the other. Seek therapy, Mom. Seek therapy.
Sometimes I just really want to meet some hot-as-fuck guy, and I mean, hot…as…fuck! He’d no doubt be super happy with himself and, who knows, maybe he could fix me and make me happy too. He just needs to make plenty of money so I could be sure I can get far away from my family and stay away, never having to rely on my dad’s money. The hot guy would probably want to plant his seed in me and see little hims running around. I’d need to think long and hard about having children first, though. I don’t think I’m qualified because my brother and sister annoy the fuck out of me.
Whatever, though, because I’ll never have what I want. Why does everything have to suck so much? I mean, right now, I’m looking out the SUV window and there isn’t even any decent scenery to look at; it’s just so, blah. Boring. I cringe just thinking how humid it is out there and how we’re about to pull into this podunk gas station. My dad always insists on turning the air off and opening the doors when he pumps gas and then my hair frizzes and puffs up like a Pomeranian puppy. I feel so sorry for the hillrods in this sad town we stopped in. Actually, I envy their ignorance and simple minds. Ah, well, how do I have any right to complain when I have so many wonderful things to look forward to, such as the daily fight between my family members on what restaurant we’re going to have dinner at. Well, I’ll talk to you later, Kels.
Love, Your Favorite Friend,
Jordyn Violet Thacker
On parallel planes, happening simultaneously, two fathers, both named Mr. Thacker, were curious to check up on a new gift each had given to his adolescent daughter, whom each man loved very much. One Mr. Thacker, opened the pages of his daughter’s new diary and was thoroughly confused at what he saw written there. The second Mr. Thacker, clicked open the lock screen of his daughter’s new tablet and inquired aloud as to who the girl was named Josephine that was typed on the screen adjacent to the blinking cursor. There had occurred a by-chance happening which resulted in neither girl’s writing ending up in their intended destinations.