Read An-Ya and Her Diary for Free Online Page B

know it was going to be that bad.
    Tomorrow is my birthday.
    69
    Dear Penny,
    Now I am 12. I am almost a teenager, which is a good thing because it means I am closer to being able to have my own house and be by myself. The only good thing about the art work we did the other day was that Wanna knew not to buy me balloons.
    Wanna and Ellie baked a chocolate cake with blue icing. Daddy put 12 candles on top and everyone sang the birthday song. I was supposed to make a wish when I blew out the candles, but I didn’t know what to wish for. I couldn’t think of anything. So I just blew them out to get it over with.
    Then I had to open presents. Daddy gave me a watch that has a crystal in the middle. It looks fancy. Ellie gave me a necklace with a charm that says sisters. I won’t be wearing it. Wanna gave me a new quilt for my bed that she sewed herself. It is made of all different blue colored fabric. Some blue fabric squares have pink flowers inside to match the pink blanket on my bed.
    After I finished opening my presents, I asked if I could go to my room. Wanna looked upset, but she said that it was fine.
    Do you think She is thinking about me today?
    70
    Dear Penny,
    Wanna is crying. I am in my room, but I can hear her. It is a loud cry mixed with a yell and a little bit of choking. It is my fault that she is crying.
    She came into my room after my birthday party and asked me if I was ok. I told her she wasn’t my mother and I wanted to go back to China.
    I don’t know why I said that about wanting to go to China. What is there for me to go back to? Nobody wanted me there.
    I wanted to tell Wanna that I wanted my real mother and I wanted to spend my birthday with Her. I didn’t say those things, but I said enough to make Wanna cry.
    I don’t belong anywhere. I guess I never did. I probably never will.
    71
    Dear Penny,
    I see dancers in my head when music is playing. They are beautiful dancers and wear beautiful costumes. The music decides how they dance and what color their costumes are. I’ve always been able to see them. As far back as I can remember.
    In the orphanage, the Nanny that I loved, the one that I hoped would make me her daughter, would play the piano. She wasn’t very good, but the children liked it. Maybe she was better and it was the piano’s fault. It was a dirty old piano with most of the paint worn off.
    When the Nanny played, I would lie on the floor and listen. I would watch the dancers in my head.
    Wanna plays music all the time. Different music on different days. Sometimes she tells Ellie and me to sit on the floor and listen with her. Wanna says to feel the music and let the music take us wherever we want to go. Weird, I know.
    I don’t know what I feel or where I want to go, but I like to watch the dancers in my head.
    72
    Dear Penny,
    Wanna doesn’t let me help her clean the house. She says that cleaning the house is a mother’s job. She tells me it is my job to play. I have to pick up my own messes, but I am not allowed to help clean.
    In the orphanage it was a child’s job to clean. My hands were rough and my nails broke off as soon as they started to grow. Now my hands are getting soft and smooth, and my nails are longer then they have ever been. It feels strange.
    A few days after I came here, Wanna took me to the doctor. She showed the doctor my hands and seemed worried that something was wrong with me. The doctor asked Wanna what kind of soap I used in China and if I was I forced to clean. I didn’t say anything. I just listened.
    The truth is I didn’t mind cleaning the orphanage. I scrubbed the floors and metal cribs. I washed clothes and dishes in a big red bucket. It was something to do and I was good at it.
    I’m not good at playing. I am much better at cleaning.
    73
    Dear Penny,
    The same red bucket that I washed clothes and dishes in was the one I used to wash myself. I was responsible for washing Abby too. She would giggle when I washed her tiny feet.
    Now I don’t wash