28October2025 Diary
Today I watched the chaos unfold at home, the way it always does when Kates temper is tested. The front door swung open without ceremony, and in burst a flash of pinkgreenpurpleMarilyn, our new stepsister, twirling like a bright summer bird.
Hey, sis, look what Mum Tara bought for me, she chirped, spinning in front of Kate.
Kates eyes widened. Mum Tara? she whispered, as if the name were a secret weapon.
Through the doorway, Kate saw Mum Taras beaming face, her smile as wide as a London market stall.
Kate, look what Mary and I picked upsome cute tops for you. Come over, have a look. See? This ones perfect for you, right? Mary chose it herself.
Mum thrust a pink Tshirt with a blue horselike creature sporting a golden horn at Kates chest.
Try it on, quick, she urged.
Im not wearing that, Mum, Kate snapped.
Mum, whats wrong with you? The sister tried to help, I heard her mutter, then she shut herself in her room, slamming the door.
Little brat, Mum huffed, stamping a foot. Come on, Mary, lets go. Youre a teenager now, you understand
Yeah, I get it, Mum Tara Kates voice trembled.
The new daughter had arrived three months ago, ringing the flats bell and asking for Kates fatherwell, stepfather, to be precise. Kates dad, Steve, isnt her biological parent; she only learned that when Mary moved in.
Steve spent hours trying to convince Kate that it was all nonsense, that hed raised her from birth, loved her, and still did. But Kate, already heavyhearted, selfconscious about her weight, her looks, her fragile soul, felt the walls closing in. Her first love had left her with a broken heart, and now this fresh storm.
She had always been Steves little girl, but now it seemed she was merely a placeholder while Steve, missing his real daughter, latched onto the bright, thin, carefree Mary. The mother, ever the dreamer, seemed to have always wanted a pictureperfect daughterpretty, lively, troublefree. Mary quickly won every smile in the house, except Kates.
Steve, trying to make up for lost years, dotes on his new daughter; Mum coos with delight. Kate feels invisible.
When the truth about Steve not being her biological father slipped outby accident, while the three of them were in the kitchen and Kate walked in unnoticedMum was frantically defending herself, claiming she never intended to steal Steve from Kates real mother, that she was a frightened eighteenyearold girl abandoned by a fiancé while pregnant. She explained that Steve had taken pity, helped her, and that Kates birth had finally tied two strangers together.
Divorce had torn both parents apart, and Kate had become the standin child. The logic was clear, but the pain was raw.
Kates first instinct was to run away, to escape the betrayal. Steve caught her plan and declared, I love you, Kate. Youre my golden girl. The words felt like a cheap garnish on a bitter dish.
Later Kate demanded Mum give her the contact details of her real father.
Why bother? Mum asked, genuinely baffled. He walked out before the registration, and everyone thinks Steve is your real dad. Why tear apart what weve built over the years?
Is it okay for Mary to meet her dad while Im denied? Kate shot back. She needs a fathers love, but I can manage without it.
Mum told her to be happy with her new sister, to kiss her cheek and enjoy the fantasy. Kate, after a moment of thought, decided she would wait until she was older, famous perhaps, before hunting down the man who had abandoned her.
She spent the evenings scribbling bleak poems, drawing dark silhouettes in hoodies, reapers, demons, rain and fog. She despised everyone.
Enough of this, she muttered one night, I wish the holidays would come so I could camp all summer and escape this omnipresent Mary.
Mary, with her sleek blackviolet hair and oversized hoodie, turned heads wherever she went. Kate, convinced she was fat and ugly, longed to shrink into invisibility.
The three of them went to the cinema recently; the films pink tears made Kate cringe, and even Steve nearly wept, trying to appear the caring father. Kate sat sulking, scrolling on her phone, feeling the whole world was a stage for someone elses drama.
She wondered if she should run away to the coast, hitch a ride on a cargo ship, and disappear to Australia.
Kate, love, your English needs work, Steve said one afternoon, patting her head. When I was your age I was barely passing, and now youre a solid B.
Ive lived in Bolton, then we moved to Spain for a while, I recalled, trying to sound supportive. I know both English and Spanish.
Thanks, but I dont want to talk about it, Kate muttered, turning away.
Marilyn tried everything to bond with her, but Kate grew harder, even smoking real cigarettes just to shock Mum. It seemed a protest, a way to show the family that their precious child was slipping into a abyss.
Summer passed unchanged. At camp, Kate was ostracised; the popular girl, Becky, clung to Dave, the lanky boy, making endless, foolish suggestions. Everyone seemed against her.
Mum and Steve continued to pamper Mary, giving her a private room while they retreated to the living room, turning the flat into a circus of favouritism.
Mum, look how thin Kate has become, they cooed, She needs a new haircut, a makeover, something to brighten her up.
Kate retreated to her room, refusing dinner, hating them all.
Mary enrolled at university; Kate stayed at the same dreary secondary school, bullied by classmates and ignored by teachers.
One bleak October evening, the weather turned sour. Kate couldnt sleep, so she sat in the dark kitchen, cradling the large mug Steve had given her years ago. She didnt turn on the lights, just stared out the window, sighing.
Footsteps creaked, and she heard Marys muffled voice from the bathroom, talking on the phone.
Are you mad? Its night, everyones asleep, Mum Mary whispered, No, Mum, Im not going back to ATown. Ive finally found a family here. I have my own room, I can sleep naked, no one barges in with a bottle of gin. Mum, I love Dad, and Aunt Tara, whos become my real mum. She looks after me, heals me when Im ill, believes in me.
Marys words rang like a siren, and Kate felt a cold knot in her stomach.
The next days saw Kate slipping further into gloom, drawing macabre scenes of hooded figures and rainsoaked streets. She hated everyone, especially the sister who seemed to have everything.
A few days later, embarrassed, she asked Mary to help her with English. Mary laughed, pointing at the ridiculous unicornhorned horse Tshirt Kate had been forced to wear.
Is that a nightgown? Kate asked, halfserious.
Its a Tshirt, love, Mary replied, I wanted something whimsical when I was a kid, but Mum said it was too childish and bought me silk sets instead.
Their mother once caught the two of them on the floor, hugging and sobbing. Whats happening? she asked. The girls burst into giggles minutes later, mocking the unicornhorned horse as if it were the worlds greatest joke.
For New Years, Kate gave Mary a rainbow unicorn hoodie and a matching onesie. Mary squealed, Im the happiest!
In spring, a slimmer, freshlycut Kate was approached by Dave, the same lad from school. Are you going to camp this year? he asked, stammering.
With a smile that felt like a sunrise, Kate said, Yes, and my familys going on holiday later in the summer.
Dave promised to wait for her at camp.
As I close this entry, I realise that the greatest lesson Ive learned is that love cannot be measured by who is given the best room or the newest clothes. It is earned through honesty, patience, and the willingness to see the pain behind someones stubborn façade. If I can be kinder to Kate, perhaps the house will finally feel like a home for everyone.
