By: Hannah Q
Minnesota, Grade: 6

May 15, 1930

I hate it here.

We are here in this smelly old place. Our new house (if it's worth calling that) is nothin' but piles of wood, brick, and metal. Luckily Mom has agreed to let me take this diary with me. This is my most prized possesion. Dani gave it to me last week. I'm thinking how she had managed to buy this. Nowadays, almost nobody can buy something as expensive as a diary.

This diary has a velvet cover and a silver chain wrapped around it. There is a special key, which is now in my pocket. I write with this dumb old pen. It is almost out of ink and I doubt that I can write here for long. We cannot afford ink anymore.

Yesterday we abandoned our house, our small beautiful house. Our pets, Roger and McKiddy, were given away to Dani. I miss them. I haven't gone through any 'ol day without them chewing on my toes.

As I said earlier, I hate it here. My parents couldn't afford anything anymore, not even food, and we all fled here. In this dreadful place. Lots of homeless men, women, and children. I cannot stand any minute sitting here. I want to go back home and lie in my bed. But I can't. We don't even have a penny.