The Move

Dear Diary,
Some people are getting suspicious of Mr. Petersburg. I don't know what tipped them off though. Maybe it was all the food he bought. That must be it because we have been laying lower than low. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. My dad and Mr. Petersburg think that we should close the distance between us and Canada ASAP. When they said ASAP, I was expecting next week at the earliest. But no, we are leaving tomorrow night. The universe loves toy with me.

It's not like we have a lot of stuff to pack and I would never really think of this pace as my home. But, I had grown accustom to the homey basement. I didn't think we would have to leave so soon. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm stupid enough to think that we could stay here until the government straightened themselves out. Still, that didn't mean I wasn't going to miss the place.

So, I asked my dad where we were going next. He said an abandoned shed on the property of an old friend. It's actually located in his cow pastor. I don't really know the condition this shed is in, but from what my dad said, it's like a barn. Basically four walls and a roof. Very spacious, but no separation of any kind. In short' the shed is one giant room with a few leaks here and there. Lovely right? Of course, I'm in no position to complain. Both my parents are alive and well. My sister is 100% recovered. We are all together. What more could a person of color ask for at a time like this?

I've got to go. My mom is currently haranguing me to start packing. Until next time.

Conflict

Dear Diary,

Ever since Sam got sick, my parents have been arguing non-stop. My mom wants to get  Sam help from a professional doctor. My dad doesn't. He says that if we do that, then what’s to stop the doctor from going to the police to turn us in. He thinks that if we get turned in, then they are going to kill us ASAP.

I understand both sides of the argument. Like my mom, I feel useless. All I can do is watch my sister suffer. But, I also agree with my dad. Death is not certain for Sam if she stays hidden but, once she is exposed, its’ all over.  I don’t really know what the right choice is, but I do know that arguing isn't going to help Sam in any way, shape, or form. They need to make a decision, and fast.

Sick

Dear Diary,

This past week has been rough. My sister’s been extremely sick. She is constantly covered in a thin layer of sweat even though she is shivering. She breaks into coughing fits that stretch on forever. She looks pale and she's loosing s weight way too fast to be healthy. No one knows what’s wrong with her. Mr. Pertersburg bought some could medicine for her. He even got his hand on some prescribed flu medicine, but nothing works. She’s just getting worse and it’s not like we can take her to a doctor. My mom has been crying, and my dad is really starting to get worried. All we can do is pray. I know that God does everything according to His plan, but I really hope that it’s in His plan to save my sister. I need her here, alive. 

Bye Bye

Dear Diary,
Today Mr. Petersburg came home with not so surprising news. The government is banning the use of technology for African-Americans and people who associated with African-Americans... shocker. Let's think about this logically, okay?
1. In the 21st century, almost every job has at least one Black person at their job, school, etc. which means that almost everyone in the U.S. is associated with an African American.
2. Why would the government think that the public would be okay with this technology lock down?
3. What kind of ignoramus wouldn't realize the kind of damage this technology lock down would have on their economy?

I just don't understand the government. I can't believe that THIS was their brilliant plan.

My Room

Dear Diary,

I don't really understand why, but lately, I've been thinking of home a lot. What's weird about it is that I'm not really thinking of my whole house, but a specific room. It's the den in my basement. That room was like my personal sanctuary. I could watch TV, play the piano, sing, eat, or just sit and think there .It was also the place where I let out my feelings. I miss the burnt orange color of the walls and the way the fire place would heat up the room in the winter. I miss the chocolate colored couches and the way they seemed to swallow up anyone who sat in them.

I don't know why I keep thinking about this when all it makes me feel is angry. I'm angry that I can't just go down stairs when ever I feel. I'm angry I have no where to let out my feelings anymore. I'm angry I don't have a place to call my own. But, most of all I'm angry that my den my special place, was taken away from me so easily. I feel like the whole world just wants to cause nothing but mayhem and anguish in my life. It's difficult to look on the bright side of things when nothing good happens anymore. 

Gone

Dear Diary,

Today Mr. Petersburg heard some of his co-workers talking about a recent arrest. Apparently, a young black walking down the street "bumped" into a white teenager girl. A man standing by saw and contacted the police. The police came and arrested the man for assault. This caused African-Americans across America to protest against the police force. Even though most of the pretest was peaceful, police said that they had to take drastic measure and forcefully remove the threat. If any of the protesters used self-defense, they were immediately arrested for assaulting a police officer.

You know, I wasn't really shocked by what happened. No, we accepted that kind of reaction from the law. Their ingenuity for ridiculous punishments is impressive to say the least. What got us was that the young man walking just happened to be my sister’s good friend Ivan. We couldn't believe that he was in jail over something so... TRIVIAL! Once I found out, I was instantly bombarded by a sea of emotions. I felt hurt that people thought so low of my kind. I felt betrayed because the very government that was supposed to protect its people allowed such outrageous things to happen. I was scared for Ivan. What about his family? What if he can't adapt to prison life? What if they kill him? Lastly, I left anger. I was angry that this happened. I was angry that no one was standing up for us. But, most of all, I was angry that I could do anything to help him.

AAAAHHHH I just want this to be over...soon.

The Help

Dear Diary,

Today, we met my fathers friend who will help hide us in Orgon. His name is Mr. Petersburg. In all honesty, I never expected thhe person who is saving our lives to look so... ordinary. Mr. Petersburg is a averaged height fellow with curly brown hair and big glasses. He's not hard on the eyes, but he doesn't exactly stand out either. He has a little bit more muscle than the average man with a kind, but he's very soft spoken.

Anyway, Mr. Petersburg took us into his home (which is huge). He's letting us stay in his basement. From the outside his house look like it has three stories: the main floor, the second floor, and the third floor. But, the builders of this house started building it underground. It was a small space, not that I'm complaining, because it obviously was supposed to stay hidden.

I'm happy that my family is together and safe, but I'm not going to lie. I wish we could go home. I wish we didn't have to be cooped up in this tiny space 24/7. I'm so grateful to Mr. Petersburg. I owe the man my life. But, I can't help but think about how it was when I didn't have to rely on a stranger to do the simplest of things such as live.