**Diary Entry July 10th**
One of the greatest mistakes is to assume people are simply good, evil, clever, or foolish. A person isnt fixed; they shift and change. They might be foolish one moment, wise the nextcruel, then kind. Thats the wonder of humanity. And thats why we must never judge too quickly. You condemn someone, and by then, theyve already become someone else. Tolstoy once wrote that in his journals, and who am I to argue? Life proves him right time and again, if you look closely enough, if you sift the wheat from the chaff. Truth becomes clearer then, almost something you could hold in your hands.
But today, I dont feel like pondering such things. Its been sweltering since morningproper July heat, the kind that presses against brick walls, bounces off the pavement even hotter, and lingers, bowed under a sky pouring summer down.
Yet inside Emily, its winter. A bitter, biting cold. So this summer isnt hers at all.
Schools just ended. Uni should be the next step, like any graduates meant to think about. But Emilys pregnant. What use is uni now? And JakeJake turned out to be a right coward. When she told him about the baby, he just bit his lip, turned to the window, and said:
*”Well, I was the first… but there couldve been others.”*
Emily didnt even cry then. Just stood there, staring at his backcalm as you like, his breathing steady. She wanted to say more, ask him what she was supposed to do, but then the doorbell rang. Her mum was home from work. Jake went to answer, exchanged a quick hello in the hallway, and left.
Mum marched straight into Emilys room, demanding to know what was wrong. Emily, flustered, blurted it out:
*”Nothings wrong. Im just pregnant.”*
Her mother stared, dead into her eyes. Then she shoutedthough Emily didnt catch the words, because the sound was cut short by the slap that followed.
Thats when winter settled inside Emily. Like snow had fallen all at once, burying her up to her neck. Cold. Empty. Outside and in.
Mum kept yelling, but snow muffles sound. So Emily just sank onto the edge of her bed and began to cryexcept the tears stayed trapped inside, freezing in her chest, turning to icy little pellets. She could almost hear them rattling around in the hollow space.
Then Mum stormed out. The front door slammed. Silence. And there Emily was, alone with her frozen tears in the middle of a blazing July evening.
She curled up on the bed, knees to chest, and finally wept properlymessy, girlish sobs, nose running, breath hitching. And the pity she felt! Not for herself, nofor the baby. Not even born, and already unwanted. By its father. By its gran. Even by her, its hopeless mum. No one was glad for it.
She mustve fallen asleep, though light still clung to the sky. Dreamed something, too. Woke when someone sat beside her, a hand smoothing her hair.
Mum had come back. Stroking her head, murmuring:
*”Emily, love forgive me. Im a fool, even if Im not that old yet. Should be celebratingmy girl all grown up. Soon to be a mum herself. And I”*
She was crying now, swiping at her cheeks, words tumbling out:
*”Justjust pray its not a boy, alright? Boysmentheyre all well, you know. None of em ever really understand. Not your dad. Not mine either.”*
Then Emily was sobbing too, loud and ugly, clinging to her mum, the person she loved most. They cried together, each mourning their own sorrow. But it was warm, the two of them. And summer still hummed beyond the window.
Thenthe doorbell again. Mum sniffed hard, wiped her face, stopped Emily from rising.
*”Stay there, love. Ill get it.”*
She went, smoothing her hair as she walked. Tragedy or not, if a man was at the door, best not look a complete mess.
Opened it. And there they weretwo of them. Jake, and in front, his dad. The older man spoke first:
*”Evening, Mrs. Whitmore. Apologies for the hour. But my lad heres told me everything, seems like.”*
He turned to Jake, voice sharpening.
*”Or was there more, future granddad?”*
Jake just ducked his head. His father went on:
*”So weve come, the pair of us, to ask for your daughters hand. That is, if Emily can forgive him for what he said.”* He shot Jake a look, then cuffed him round the ear. *”Go on then, you little git. Apologise to the girl! And if she doesnt forgive you, youre no son of mine.”*
…People change. Shift like the tide. Sometimes we muck things up so badly we dont know how to fix them. Thank God for parents. Theyve a way of steering us right.
