My constructive criticism: there were some grammatical errors, like runon sentences and whatnot, and you went off-topic a few times. But the story is really interesting and I'm looking forward to more. ^.^
Dear diary; Date: September 9, 2012 I believed Tasha when she told me about what my mother was doing to her. I just couldn't believe she would do that, she loves Tasha a lot, she even adores her. When she first showed me all of her cuts, bruises, scars and seen all the blood dried on her body, I cried myself to sleep. I couldn't believe this was happening in my house, I was surprised and angry, angry at myself and my own mom. Tasha is in the hospital under the Intensive Care Unit, she's not looking too good. Lori had beat her with a baseball bat, gave her a swollen black eye. She has burns on her body, some second degree. She's dehydrated, underweight, her body is frail, cold and lifeless. She pushes through everyday to see Zada. She's brave, she's hanging on by a thread and knowing that she could pass at any minute, she still puts on a smile for Zada. Zada goes home with me to Tasha's parents and comes by everyday until visiting hours are over, hoping that when we arrive, Tasha is still here, still in this world. Zada knows that mommy is 'sick' and lays beside her in bed holding her hand. Sometimes Zada pulls back the covers, slides off the bed and kisses every single one of Tasha's scars, cuts or marks. It makes me smile but brings tears to my eyes. She doesn't completely understand that it will take more than kisses to bring back our Tasha. It's on the inside of her body, her bones are weak from taking so many beayings, lack of food, lack of exercise and lack of sleep. I want Tasha to be okay, if only she would eat then she would be on her way to a better and faster recovery. Nurses try to help as much as possible but they can't do anything to treat her pain until she eats. Her eyes stay closed but she manages to turn her head towards me with the warmest smile and mumble "I love you." I break down, sometimes she pukes up blood, it scares me to see Tasha like this and I can't do anything to take away her pain. I hope nobody sees this fucking book, it's nothing but sad and depressing memories. -Isaac.
I will have another update shortly, my aunt is getting her stitches out today. I will update once I get into the hotel. Thanks, - Paige.
Dear diary Date: September 15, 2012 Well, I wasn't aware of how bad the state Tasha is in, doctors and nurses can't even treat her. Not because her much needed pain medication requires her to eat but because no known medication is going to treat her completely for her brain. I hate to say this, but, Tasha is dying. Her body is beginning to resist her IV, she can't eat and even if she does it won't stay down. As much as I want Zada to see her mom at this point, it just can't happen right now, not in Tasha's state. Zada, I love you. I won't let anything ever, EVER hurt you. So long as I live. -Isaac
Dear diary; Date: September 25, 2012 I hate to say this but Tasha passed away yesterday. I'm devastated, she held on for so long but her body knew and her mind was telling her it was time to go. I know this may sound ridiculous, but I think it was best for her, her body is at peace and she can be happy once more. I know she will watch from above over Zada and I and keep us safe. I can't tell Zada yet about mommy, she doesn't understand how death works or what exactly it means. I'll have to wait until she is older to break the news. Until then, I guess it is Zada, Tasha's parents and myself. I'm utterly disgusted with my mother for the things she did and caused to Tasha. I was hoping to propose to Tasha once she graduated, I wanted our family to be a family forever; until death do you part. I'll miss Tasha, I'll miss her until I'm up there with her. I will miss how she smiles at me every morning even though she's still asleep, I will miss her soft brown hair and the Raspberry Sorbet shampoo she used, I will miss her holding Zada on her hip standing at the threshold waving at me when I came home. I will miss a lot but I know Tasha, she always kept a smile when things got bad. Rest in peace, babe. You're in a better place. Zada loves and misses you. -Isaac.
*** NOTE: I am thinking of sort of fast forwarding to it into the future of when Zada is around Tasha's age, twenty. Any thoughts or suggestions on this idea is very helpful. Thanks, - Paige.
I think that's a good idea. Writing in this style can be kind of hard, because the letters sort of list what happened, instead of making the readers feel like they're there. I've seen some diary-type stories describe events with dialogue and whatnot, and that usually helps. You don't have to do that; it's just a suggestion. ^.^
Dear diary ; Date: October 1, 2012 Zada is doing fine, she still asks about mommy but I have a hard time of trying to explain things to her because she doesn't understand. The funeral for Tasha is in the next few days, hopefully Zada takes it well. This Halloween is going to be different without Tasha, she loved dressing up Zada in the prettiest dresses and tiaras. I don't think I can handle it. -Isaac.
Dear diary; Date: October 7, 2012 I'm doing something crazy but I know what's best for Zada, I would let her be with her grandparents but Tasha's are almost always working. With no known immediate family, no aunts, uncles, cousins, nobody, I have to give Zada to an orphanage. Not because I don't want her, I do, I love her more than anything. Tasha's parents aren't able to keep Zada on a daily basis, Zada needs much attention and most daycares at this time of year are full. Why can't keep her? I have to return to work. I hate to leave Zada, my daughter, my only daughter with another family, but they can give her what I cannot do alone. I took her out of the car, I looked at her eyes, the color of Tasha's; lively, bright, warm green. I pulled her in close into a tight hug, tears rolling down my eyes. I wanted to runaway with her, find somebody, anybody to watch over her while I worked. Her warm honey colored skin and her sweet vanilla scent of her hugging tight around my neck was my last memory I was going to have of my only daughter. "Daddy, we go?" Zada looked up at me, tiny sad and hopeful eyes pierced mine. I wanted to say yes. Take her away from all this, she needed a mother and I couldn't give her that. "No, Zada. You go, you'll be happy, you'll have a better life, okay?" She showed me no expression, no emotion, she looked at me in the eyes, pointed to my chest and softly spoke, "I love you, daddy," tears welled in my eyes, I pulled her gently but yet tight into a long hug. She held my index finger of my right hand as I walked her into the orphanage, a lady in a casual black skirt, fuchsia colored blouse and silvery-gold flat shoes calmly ran over. "I am Michelle, can I help you?" She had a nice smile as she looked at me to answer. "I'm giving my daughter up for adoption, due to certain circumstances I can no longer take care of her." I spoke low but sincere. "We can find her a loving home in no time. Couples go completely gaga over the little ones. She will have the best home, I promise that." She smiled genuinely at me as Zada took her hand. "Would you prefer an open or closed adoption?" We took a seat on the coffee colored leather couch as she prepared a file for my Zada. "Closed." My voice scratched and low, I sat focused on the marble floor of my reflection. "What is her full name, age, birthday and parents names?" She had a pen in her hand ready to write on the white piece of paper. "Zada Marie Carver, she is four, I'm Isaac Craig Carver, her mother was Tasha Marie Howell. Her birthday is May 18 of 2008." I thought I was mumbling to the lady but she wrote down every word that poured from my mouth. "Does she have any allergies or take any medications?" "No," I stated clearly. "Thank you, if you would like you can leave a phone number and we can get in contact with you if we find any couples become interested in Zada." I left them with my cell number, I walked out with tears pouring down my hot cheeks. I sat in the car, looking at the empty space where Zada sat, playing over the times she was laughing in the car. I put my head down on the steering wheel, hands covering my face as I cried.
Spelling error: * why can't I keep her* Sorry, I had the I in there but I might have accidentally erased it. Android phones suck sometimes.