Dear Diary

Dear Diary, 3rd May 2006

I am more careful with my words. My dad said it was all to do with Literature. But what could that mean? Well, I said to myself, adjectives. But alas school came round. The morning flew past like candy-floss melting in your mouth when you don't expect anything. Ive notice I've grown taller. Only one centermeter but it's good enough. Mum said she was feeling sick today. I hope it's nothing serious.

Dear Diary, 4th May 2006

Mum died today. Apparently she had the propper flu. She's gone, passed away in the hospital. Im still crieing now, why couldn't it have been later? How come she never said, "I feel REALLY bad." she could have gone to hospital, a treatment. Anything, just help her. It's too late. Dad can't cope. He's gone to speed dating. We have to go to our friends house. Bye.

Dear Diary, 5th May 2006

I can't belive it, I've got the flu. I'm sitting in a hospital bed in the children's section. I'm scared this is all I'll write in my diary. Every second, I'm dieing. What if they make a treatment for me? What about my dad, my brother? Will I? Oh no, my heart rate, I'm coughing, DAD! DANIEL! This is it. Good bye diary, I hope someone will pick you up one day. I am going to see my mother.

Natasha Summers.

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Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppp
Went the heart rate.
The line went straight,
all was black.
Natasha Summers, a hidden princess, was dead.