Irene, a second grader this year, is nine years old and enthusiastic about learning. I'm writing a diary for the first time because my uncle told me to do so since it will become my most treasured possession when I'm older. I don't know how the diary can be a beneficial asset, but I'll follow my uncle's advice because I'm a decent kid. When asked why I don't have a mother today by my friend Serena who was seated at the same table, I replied that I don't know.
But I come from a large family; I have a father, an uncle, and a brother. Four individuals sharing a sizable room in a house. Being able to sleep alone makes me feel brave. He frequently enters his room in the middle of the night, unlike my father. Dad assumed I was unaware, but every time I got up to go potty, I saw it all. However, the second brother instructed me to act as though I was unaware. How come? I prompted him twice. My second brother claimed that I will understand when I am older. I hope I could mature quickly. If I became an adult tomorrow, that would be fantastic since Serena said she would marry me when I grew up. Someone feels that my name is too difficult to hear today, which makes me very sad. The same was said by Serena. He added that he will no longer be his wife and that he must find a new spouse. All the while, I was crying. I questioned my uncle about why he gave me this name at supper, but nothing was resolved. He gave his father a stern look before patting his head and saying, "I'll meet a good girl someday. If she really liked me, she wouldn't detest my name."