Well, I was in English class one day, and we were reading some book, and I thought 'I should write some sort of diary entry short story.' And that's where this popped up. It's not happy, I'll tell you that now. Then again, nothing I write is happy. But that's okay. Hope you like it!

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June 23, 1962

My name is Juliana. I live with my grandparents on their farm. My parents died when I was two. I am ten now. My grandma took a picture of me when I was eight, but I lost it, so I can’t show you what I look like. Everything was simple then.

June 27, 1962

Grandpa has cancer. They say he won’t live much longer. I don’t know what to do. Without grandpa, wee can’t run the farm. Grandma is old and weak. She can’t take care of herself like she used to. I hope things get better.

July 24, 1962

Grandpa died today.

September 5, 1962

Grandma is acting funny. She pretends I don’t exist. Her eyes are far away all the time. She doesn’t leave the house anymore, and the food supply is running low. The nearest store is miles away, and I can’t walk that far. I’m getting hungry.

September 17, 1962

Grandma died today. People say she set the house on fire and stayed inside. I was out trying to go to the store, but I couldn’t make it. By the time I got back, the farm was in ashes. I’m all alone now.

September 19, 1962

This will be my last entry. As I put the gun to my head, the cool metal in between my fingers, all I have to say is

I died today.

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Kind of a weird ending, but I liked it so I kept it. Please review! It would mean a lot to me.