Colette

July 10th, 2025

Dear Diary,

I was sitting on my bed that day, chin perched on my arms, watching the clouds do their floaty, lazy thing across the sky. I remember I kept wondering if they ever got tired of drifting. Maybe they didn’t—maybe it was enough just to be in the sky. It was summer, warm and kind, and I could smell tangerine blossoms through the screen of my window.

That was the day my new caregiver was supposed to arrive! I’d been trying really hard not to get too excited, but I couldn’t help it. Mom said they’d be someone reliable and sweet, trained to help with all kinds of stuff—cooking, checking my vitals, helping me move around when I was tired, even just being there to talk to! Part of me felt guilty… I knew how expensive help like that was. But if it meant Mom and Dad could actually come home and rest, then maybe it was okay to feel a little hopeful.

I was imagining what they’d be like—maybe with kind eyes or a voice like warm soup—when I heard the softest knock at my door. I didn’t even turn around right away, I just blinked, realizing suddenly... they were already here!