Excerpt from Millie’s Angel
December 25, 1987
It has been exactly nineteen days since our mother has left us. And it has been the hardest nineteen days of my life. I try so hard to be strong and keep it together for Ace. I lay beside him every night until he is asleep, and then I go to bed and cry myself to sleep. Will she ever return to us? Does she miss us as much as we miss her? Life seems empty without her.
Today was the first Christmas I have ever spent without my Mum. Her absence was felt by me and Ace profoundly. We have never experienced such a depressingly dull Christmas – ever. Dad tried to make it as joyous as he could, and for him I actually think it was. He doesn’t seem too fazed by our mother’s elected disappearance at all. When I look him squarely in the eyes, which is rare because I seldom talk to him, a cold chill springs to life right at the top of my spine and runs all the way down. Although he is acting quite happy and joyous, he is different. And with every inch of my body, I know that it’s not a good different.
Our mother has abandoned us because of our father. I know she is scared of him, because she mentioned as such in her letter. I have the most dreadful feeling she has every right to be frightened of Dad, even though she has left Ace and I here with him. I fear that choice has made no difference in my father’s thinking.
She should have taken us with her. I don’t want to be here with him. I hate him! I hate her for leaving me! I hate the world! I hate everything!
She brought me an easel and canvas set for Christmas, with the most beautiful paints and brushes. I can’t imagine I shall ever use them now. I can’t imagine ever picking up a pencil to even sketch now. Without her, life is meaningless. Sketching and painting is meaningless. I hate this place!
I miss my Mummy.