He Was My Everything

Chapter Three: Catharses

January 6th

Dear Diary,

I apologize for missing a day. Mum made me start unpacking the boxes. I'm not done yet, but there's some space to walk around in my room now.

She says we can go buy paint and furniture soon, so that I'll feel "more at home." I don't believe her. This place will never feel like home.

There's a large window on the wall, directly across from the door. We have cheap shades up so that the neighbors can't see into my room when they look out their own window.

It's Steven's room, however, so I don't mind so much.

I've planned out where I want everything when I get my furniture. The bed will go in the corner to the right of the window, and the desk on the left. Most of the rest of the space will be occupied by bookshelves.

I miss the old house. This one doesn't have enough book space.

Currently, the floor is occupied by stacks of books. Organized stacks, of course. I could never have random piles of books lying around.

Mum wants me to put the easel up as well. I tried to tell her that I haven't painted in ages, but she won't listen. I suppose it's always good to have another catharsis. I don't like it, though. There's no exact spot to put an easel.

She wants me to call Dr. Chesman now. FaceTime. I don't want to because I don't want to see her face. She has a too-large nose that she's broken so it's slightly leaning to the left. And she wears too much makeup. Mum says that's not nice, but it's true. Plus she dresses like an old lady, and she's only thirty-four.

She smells like cats, too. I hate cats. Mum is walking up the steps now. I can hear her because they're too creaky. The wood is warped and needs to be replaced. I don't have anyone to tell though. Mum thinks it's antique. I think it's annoying.

Sincerely,

Charles David Barnes

PS: Mum wants me to talk to Steven more. I'm not sure if I want to damage such a beauty.