The Antidote
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2009
If you like this, there's more on my Deviantart.
December 20th
Dear Diary,
Today is the happiest day of my life. Angelina was born today, perfectly healthy and happy. I couldnât imagine a more beautiful child. I was in labor for 16 hours, but she was worth every moment. I will do everything in my power to be the perfect mother.
December 23rd
Dear Diary,
Angelina seems to have taken quite a liking to her father. She stops crying almost immediately when he holds her. I envy him. It saddens me to take a back seat, but I will be fine. Iâm sure she loves me as much as she loves him. I will be a good mother.
December 25th
Dear Diary,
I was watching the news this morning. There was a stabbing in a nearby town last night. This is such a violent time. I canât believe I chose this time to bring a child into the world, into such a mean, hateful world. I hope Angelina doesnât despise me for it. Does this make me a bad mother?
December 30th
I donât think I can do it. I donât think Iâm cut out to be a mother. Last night, Angelina began crying. It was nothing out of the usual, but I found myself so annoyed by her incessant screaming. And then⦠I couldnât help it. I wish I hadnât thought it, but I did. I thought about leaving her outside for the night. And I even briefly considered it. I actually thought it over. I am a horrible mother.
January 1st
I got drunk last night. I never drink that much. I just couldnât stop. It made it so much easier to deal with. The fact that Angelina doesnât love me. Who can blame her? If she hates me, I deserve it.
January 4th
She hates me. Itâs so obvious. The way she looks at me. And as much as I want to love her anyway, I feel that no matter how much I deny it; there is a large part of me that resents her. I deserve to die.
January 6th
I canât deal with it anymore. How can I raise a child who doesnât love me? Iâve been avoiding her as much as I can without being obvious about it. I donât want John to know. How long can this go on?
January 10th
Iâve put an end to it. Iâm only human. I can only handle so much. She was horrible to me, even though I gave her everything I could. In the end, though, I know that it was me. My fault. I was never good enough. I never will be good enough.
So I took her out this morning while John was at work. The temperature was just about zero, which made cracking the frozen ground with my shovel so difficult. I took her to the woods. I dug a hole. I put her in it. And then⦠And thenâ¦
I buried her. I didnât even have the strength to kill her first. Iâm so weak. This is why I couldnât be the mother she deserved.
John will be home soon. He will find me asleep on the couch, with the front door wide open. Some one mustâve kidnapped her. Thatâs what Iâll tell them. But for how long will they believe it? Iâll have to hide my diary somewhere.
January 15th
Theyâre still looking for her, for the man who took her. They donât knowâ¦
January 17th
I think I saw her. She was watching me. She hated me. I could feel her hatred. Iâm a failure as a mother, this I already know, but I canât be insane as well. She was there. I know she was.
January 18th
Sheâs begun carrying a knife around with herâ¦
January 19th
[This page of the diary is covered in blood. Any words written have become illegible.]
December 20th
Dear Diary,
Today is the happiest day of my life. Angelina was born today, perfectly healthy and happy. I couldnât imagine a more beautiful child. I was in labor for 16 hours, but she was worth every moment. I will do everything in my power to be the perfect mother.
December 23rd
Dear Diary,
Angelina seems to have taken quite a liking to her father. She stops crying almost immediately when he holds her. I envy him. It saddens me to take a back seat, but I will be fine. Iâm sure she loves me as much as she loves him. I will be a good mother.
December 25th
Dear Diary,
I was watching the news this morning. There was a stabbing in a nearby town last night. This is such a violent time. I canât believe I chose this time to bring a child into the world, into such a mean, hateful world. I hope Angelina doesnât despise me for it. Does this make me a bad mother?
December 30th
I donât think I can do it. I donât think Iâm cut out to be a mother. Last night, Angelina began crying. It was nothing out of the usual, but I found myself so annoyed by her incessant screaming. And then⦠I couldnât help it. I wish I hadnât thought it, but I did. I thought about leaving her outside for the night. And I even briefly considered it. I actually thought it over. I am a horrible mother.
January 1st
I got drunk last night. I never drink that much. I just couldnât stop. It made it so much easier to deal with. The fact that Angelina doesnât love me. Who can blame her? If she hates me, I deserve it.
January 4th
She hates me. Itâs so obvious. The way she looks at me. And as much as I want to love her anyway, I feel that no matter how much I deny it; there is a large part of me that resents her. I deserve to die.
January 6th
I canât deal with it anymore. How can I raise a child who doesnât love me? Iâve been avoiding her as much as I can without being obvious about it. I donât want John to know. How long can this go on?
January 10th
Iâve put an end to it. Iâm only human. I can only handle so much. She was horrible to me, even though I gave her everything I could. In the end, though, I know that it was me. My fault. I was never good enough. I never will be good enough.
So I took her out this morning while John was at work. The temperature was just about zero, which made cracking the frozen ground with my shovel so difficult. I took her to the woods. I dug a hole. I put her in it. And then⦠And thenâ¦
I buried her. I didnât even have the strength to kill her first. Iâm so weak. This is why I couldnât be the mother she deserved.
John will be home soon. He will find me asleep on the couch, with the front door wide open. Some one mustâve kidnapped her. Thatâs what Iâll tell them. But for how long will they believe it? Iâll have to hide my diary somewhere.
January 15th
Theyâre still looking for her, for the man who took her. They donât knowâ¦
January 17th
I think I saw her. She was watching me. She hated me. I could feel her hatred. Iâm a failure as a mother, this I already know, but I canât be insane as well. She was there. I know she was.
January 18th
Sheâs begun carrying a knife around with herâ¦
January 19th
[This page of the diary is covered in blood. Any words written have become illegible.]