Dusty Diary

A/N: This was born from me re-reading a journal entry I made about a moth or so ago. A line from the entry sounded too good to not be in a story.  So, I opened up Zen Writer and got started! The diary entry in this story is basically mine except with a few differences, extra details and a few added things; if you have any questions about it, feel free to ask! And so now, I leave you to read and enjoy! ^.^

xXx

Julie flipped through the diary she had found in one of her grandmother’s trunks. According to her mother, this trunk held things belonging to her great-aunt Trudy who had disappeared long before Julie or even her mother had ever been born.

Taking a glance around the mostly packed up attic, Julie hemmed and hawed over reading the private thoughts of the great-aunt she had never met but shrugged, deciding there was no harm in it and she deserved a break as she had been working for hours already helping her mother pack up her grandmother’s house.

Julie sat down on another trunk and flipped to the last entry in the diary, noting that the year was the year her great-aunt had disappeared and so Julie started to read, using the light from the swinging light bulb.

xXx

 

I wonder if anyone else whose the youngest in the family has the same troubles that I do. I’m the youngest in a house with four people but I’m twenty. There’s my mom and grandma and then the person I would love to forget who I shall simply call the jackass.

Now I get the talks and lectures of acting mature and being an adult/young adult as I’m sure many others do. But then you turn around and if you get into an argument, do the slightest thing wrong or just tick someone off just the right way, then all of a sudden it’s like you’re a little kid again. Everyone’s talking down to you, making sure you know you were wrong and not allowing you to say anything in your defense or to try and explain yourself. And if you try to then it means somehow that you’re talking back which gets you into even more trouble.

Even when someone else is more in the wrong, it’s never brought up or handled because you did something wrong and that’s more important than say someone being cruel, stealing or threatening you.

Hell, even when we have kids in the house and I’m having to watch them while the adults sit and talk, I somehow still can get in trouble. Somehow I’m too bossy when telling the two kids not to mess with my mother’s little snow globes or when I’m trying to keep them busy with a game or dancing or a movie.

 

And I’m just wondering if anyone else has to deal with that or had to deal with it. Because quite honestly, it sucks.