Jane’s Diary

Session #3

Dear Diary,

Today I put on a happy face to get through life. Every day I wake I put on a new mask to face the world. But the world doesn’t know me, the world just judges me

I left you off with my conversations with Tiffany. She wanted desperately to help me, but I did not want to help myself.

Our conversation continued,

Tiffany: so, Jane what would you like to start with?

Me: I am not quite sure what you want from me

Tiffany: do not look at it as if I want something from you, I just want to help you

Me: help me? Who said I needed any help?

Tiffany: no one said you needed help

Me: but why do you assume I need help?

Tiffany: listen all I am trying to do is help you get situated, so you can start your college career right

Me: and what do you get out of it?

Tiffany: you do realize this is what I get paid for right?

At this point diary I could tell I was getting to her; her face tightens as she was trying to stay as professional as possible.

Me: yes, I do realize that

Tiffany: so, you have 2 choices. You can leave my office now and find yourself somewhere to stay until we process all your information.

Me: what is the second choice?

Tiffany: you can cut the bullshit and stop wasting my freaking time.

Me: ……………

Me: my parents are drug addicts that are emotionally abusive

Me: they could care less about my well being

Me: I needed an escape. So, I sit here today before you

Tiffany: is this both parents? Earlier it seems as if you were insinuating that your dad was not part of your life?

Me: my dad left me and my mother a couple of years ago. It was for the better, I was always scared he would kill her one day.

Tiffany: was life always like this?

Me: no! we use to be a happy family

Tiffany: what changed?

Me: tragedy always changes people

Tiffany: what was this tragedy?

Me: A family of 5 became a family of 3

Tiffany: siblings?

Me: yes, twins

Tiffany: how old?

Me: 5

Tiffany: what happened to them?

Me: drowned in the pool on the backyard

Tiffany: oh my God that is terrible

Me: my family never recovered

Tiffany: I don’t even know what to say

Me: I was adopted, my mom and dad could not have children, so they decided to adopt. My dad is white, and my mom is black, so they thought they would adopt a biracial baby which would represent both of them. They chose me for reasons they could not explain, they said I just felt right when they held me. I was about 1 when they adopted me from this orphanage that took care of children 2 and younger. They both lost their families due to the fact that they engaged in an interracial relationship, so they had to start a new life somewhere else.

Tiffany just stared at me eyes wide open, like she was watching a movie. I am not sure why I told her all of this, but she just felt like the right person.

Me: shall I go on?

Tiffany: as long as you are comfortable

Me: life was good, we were a family of 3 and everything was just great. They loved me, they showed me affection and gave me all the attention I could ever ask for. As I said it was great

Tiffany: until it was not…

Me: until they had children of their own

Tiffany: you said they could not have children?

Me: until they could, they called them their miracle twins

Tiffany: where did this leave you?

Me: in the background watching what use to be mine disappear right in front of me. They were told over and over that the twins were miracles.

Tiffany: is it because they were told they could not have kids and then they did?

Me: Yes, and that made me the odd one. The one who was not part of their blood, the one who was extra. I lost all the love and I lost my parents. They never looked at me the same, they did not hold me or talk to me the same. I never received the same affection or the same attention. It was hard knowing I did not belong

Tiffany: did they ever make you feel inclusive again?

Me: no, they just made sure I was fed and did not die

Tiffany: oh, my lord, you should be telling this to a therapist. They could help you a lot

Me: I’m telling you. You wanted to know me, right? This is it

Tiffany: I am too far deep now

Me: I lost my parents and their love. But they lost too. They lost their twins

Tiffany: how did they drown?

Me: on a nice summer day my dad brought them to the pool in the backyard for a swim. Just like any father would do for their children. He left them there while watching tv inside and the rest is as they say history

Tiffany: no, the rest is not just history. Your siblings died

Me: my mother came home from wherever she went to that morning, to find their lifeless bodies floating. With screams so loud that the whole state could hear her, you could hear the pain from her voice as she cried out

Tiffany: what a horrible sight for a mother to find

Me: words can’t describe that moment. My father ran out to find her pulling the twins out of the pool, as she kept screaming “why?”. He just kept screaming “no, no, no”.

Tiffany: and what were you doing?

Me: I ran inside the house

Diary,

I must take a pause here, for this was one of the first of many times I lied to Tiffany Johnson

Dairy,

I lied to you also

I remember telling you this story the day it happened. However, I did not tell you the truth

Yes, the twins drowned in our backyard, but what happened before was important

My dad was not watching the twins, I was. He put me in charge to watch them while he went inside. I was watching them while they swam, having fun and splashing. I also saw them taking their safety floats off of them, I watch them as they took them off each other. I watched them as they started wrestling in the pool, I watched them as they floated in the deep end. I watched them as they struggled to try to keep up each other afloat, I watch them as they struggled to stay up. I watched them as they screamed for help, but no one could hear them but me. I watched them as the water covered their face.

No, I did not move a bit, I did not feel a thing.

The world watched as my parents took my love and gave it to them

 I watched as the water took my parents love

We all lost something that day

                                                                                                                      Mary Killer Thompson

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