Free California Diaries #7: Dawn, Diary Two by Jennifer Burns

California Diaries #7: Dawn, Diary Two
    By Ann M. Martin
    The author gratefully acknowledges Jeanne Betancourt for her help in preparing this manuscript.
    Saturday morning 6/6
    Journals are for talking about your feelings. Here’s what I am feeling:
    Lonely.
    Tense.
    Sad.
    I look at what I’ve just written and I am amazed. None of it sounds like me. I used to be an upbeat kind of person. I tried not to show my negative feelings to the rest of the world. But I can’t deny that I feel them. This is me, Dawn Schafer, right now.
    Lonely.
    Tense.
    Sad.
    I know why I’m upset. Sunny, my very best friend in the whole world, has turned into an entirely different person.
    Make that my former best friend.
    The only other time I have felt this terrible was when Mom and Dad were first
    divorced. And I had to leave California to live on the other side with Mom. I hated leaving Sunny. And I missed her the whole time I lived on the East Coast.
    Sunny was one of the main reasons I moved back to California. When her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer I thought Sunny would need her best friend close by.
    I’m glad I’m here for Mrs. Winslow, but I was totally wrong about what Sunny needed.
    It’s so ironic. I moved back to be close to Sunny and we aren’t even speaking to each other.
    Maybe Sunny and I were only best friends because we were neighbors. No, that
    doesn’t make sense. We used to do absolutely everything together. We could finish each other’s sentences. The phone would ring, and I would know it was Sunny before I picked up the receiver. I could walk into her house anytime and feel like a member of the family. Sunny could do that at our house too. Even after Dad remarried and Carol moved in with us. Another irony—Sunny gets along better with Carol than I do.
    I hate that Sunny isn’t acting like Sunny anymore. She’s changed from this clever considerate, always-there-for-you friend into a sneaky, inconsiderate, never-to-be-trusted-again stranger. Sunny is the last person I would have expected to change like that.
    Especially now, when her family is going through such a hard time. I mean, we have to face it—Mrs. Winslow is…Well, they don’t have much hope anymore that she will ever get better. Just writing that made me cry. Mrs. Winslow is wonderful, like a second mother to me. I’m a lot closer to her than I’ll ever be to Carol.
    What I don’t understand is why Sunny is turning into some other person just when her mother and father need her the most. It’s like she doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She skips school, hangs out with older guys, is dressing in a different way that’s very…adult. It’s like she doesn’t care what people think about her. But what bothers me the most is that Sunny is not there for her mother.
    Instead of visiting her mother in the hospital, she’s been over at our place an awful lot, taking care of Carol because she’s having a baby. I do feel sorry for Carol.
    The doctor ordered her to stay in bed for the last three months of her pregnancy. She can’t even get up to go to the bathroom. We have to bring her a bedpan. I know it’s hard on Carol, but it’s also a lot of extra work for Dad and me. Even Jeff is pitching in. But we didn’t expect Sunny to help out. Especially not when it meant neglecting her own sick mother. If my mother were sick I would be with her as much as possible. But I don’t want to think about that possibility. It’s just too awful.
    An ambulance just drove up our street and pulled into the Winslows’ driveway.
    Mrs. Winslow has been getting sicker every day. So she’s either going back to the hospital or…I want to run over there to find out what’s going in. I want to help. But how can I when Sunny and I aren’t even talking? I’m so worried about Mrs. Winslow.
    Carol just rang the little bell she uses to say she needs something. Later…
    Saturday morning continued 6/6
    Mrs. Winslow has gone back to the hospital. Carol and I