It just gets harder and harder to live. Everyday a new challenge pops up. But Ayame and I are trying to overcome it.
Today, we collected scrap metal. And tried to make clothes for our dolls with chicken feed sacks.
Mother got a telegram from father. He's not coming home yet. So she sat and knitted socks for the soliders, like she always does, with the blinds drawn in almost total darkness. She has to get out of the house more. I'll ask her if Ayame and I can make cookies tomorrow. That'll put her in a good mood.
I hate to admit it, but I'm scared for my father and my little brother, Caine. I don't cry in front of him, but sometimes, in bed, I cry and cry, wishing for the war to be over, and this stupid depression.
Wishing and waiting hopefully,
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