Dear Diary,
I'm beginning to believe that this is not going to end well. «What it is?», you may be wondering. The answer is so simple, darling: my life. I have a very bad feeling, so real as well as horrible, although I do not want to think so much about it. I don't want to make nasty scenes about what might happen to me, but I'm —almost— sure I will never be the same again after all this mental chaos.
What was I like before? Well, when Dad was still working in that company —from which he was later fired— the three of us were so happy together: him, Mom, and me. I was a happy girl and in my life, there was no space for worries.
But now everything is totally different.
Now I find myself here —in my room— while uselessly trying to convince myself that this nightmare was not real, that my
