Rubber Duck Toaster's P.O.V I eye the young one suspiciously. She's short and has a little tuff of rosey hair on her head. She drools. I don't think they like her very much. I don't know how old she is, or where she came from. All I do know is that she came from Lisa. I hate Lisa. She gets mad at me when I don't speak. I'm only eleven. I wish I knew where the young one came from. It just appeared. I haven't had a daddy or other mommy since I can remember. The young one sipped her cup, dribbling it down her chin. I slipped my fingers under the table plastic lined table cloth that had a pink and yellow flower pattern on it and dropped a round green pea on the purple wore out carpet. Lisa scowls, and I'm used to it. "May I please have some more juice, Lisa?" I ask her back, as she works away at the dishes. She doesn't look back. My feet hardly touch the ground as I sit on my brown carved dinner chair. I stumble, my 3 foot self behind her, my leg braces clanking together. I tap her outer thigh. She purses her lips and frustratedly looks down at me dissaprovingly. "No, no you cannot. I just refilled your glass. Stop with the clanking, now!" I sighed and walked over to the stairs. I crawled up, my knees aching. "Whatever.." I thought to myself. Most of what I say stays in my head, and does not come from my mouth. I prefer to keep it up there. Most of the time, that is. I have so many thoughts and opinions that I just want to get out. I just cannot. The moist air in my bedroom is hot. ------ Hi y'all. Hope you like it. Feedback (bumps too) is appreciated. Xoxo
Toaster's Diary Entry 19 Dear Peggy, A lady in a suit is coming today. Lisa said she will be asking us questions. I don't like questions. I almost actually like Lisa much better then I like questions. But at the same time I think I'd rather be questioned than to continue the things I go through living with this twit. This morning I asked where the young one came from. I mean, lisa brought her but where did she really come from? I'm not too young to know anymore. I'm a sophisticated young adult, as my mother would've said. Lisa said I had to tell the social workers that she's taking care of us good and that I don't want to leave. I don't believe that, but I don't want her to hit me with the remote again. I think I still have a bruise from last time. Lisa started swearing at me now. I do not know where the words she speaks are brought and created from, but they seem to be popular. Sometimes the kids at school call me, "short as fuck" but I don't know what a fuck is. I don't want to get beat up after school on Monday, ^so until then everything is just my little secret. I still hate this place more than anywhere, and I'd much rather be dead. I wish that Mom and Dad hadn't left me. I just want everything to be the way it was before. I want my mommy. The reason I am writing this; the reason I have filled up six of these now, is because I want to look back at them. Maybe even make them into novels. I don't know, just maybe. To continue on with my dreadful life of being a midget, with leg braces, and having Lisa as a caretaker, Corey is making me happier. He's really nice to me, but he doesn't believe me when I say I'm 11. I can see it in his face that he doesn't believe me. Maybe he pity's me. I honestly can say that I have no friends. Uh-oh. The social people, whatever theyre called, are here. ----- And along with every update comes Toaster's Diary!