Go Ask Alice

by Beatrice Sparks

  April 9

  Today I went back to school and was called into the principal’s office immediately. He informed me that he had a record of my behavior and that I was a disgusting example of young American womanhood. Then he told me that I was thoroughly selfish, undisciplined and immature and that he would not tolerate any misbehavior on my part at all. Then he sent me to my classes like garbage thrown in a disposal. What a jerk!

  If I ever had any doubts about going into psychiatric work and guidance work, I don’t have them now. Kids need understanding, listening, caring individuals. They need me! The coming generation needs me! And that poor stupid, idiot man who has probably run hundreds of kids out of school has given me a personal challenge. He may drive other kids away, but not me! I studied for four hours tonight and I’m going to study my stupid head off until I’m completely caught up. Even if it takes me seven or eight hours a night!

  See ya.

  April 10

  Now that I have a goal I feel a lot stronger myself. In fact I’m feeling stronger every day. Maybe I can really resist drugs now, instead of just conning myself like I did before.

  April 11

  Dear Diary,

  I don’t want to write this down because I really want to blot it out of my mind forever, but I’m so terrified that maybe if I tell you, it won’t seem so terrible. Oh Diary, please help me. I’m scared. I’m so scared that my hands are sticky and I’m actually shaking.

  I guess I must have had a flashback because I was sitting on my bed planning my mother’s birthday, just thinking about what to get her and how to make it a surprise, when my mind got all mixed up. I can’t really explain it, but it seemed to be rolling backwards, like it was rolling in on itself, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The room got smoky and I thought I was in a head shop. We were all standing around reading the ads for the second hand junk and for every kind of sex deal imaginable. And I started to laugh. I felt great! I was the highest person in the world and I was looking down at everyone and the whole world was in strange angles and shadows.

  Then suddenly it all changed into some kind of underground movie. It was slow and lazy and the lightening was really weird. Naked girls were dancing around, making love to statues. I remember one girl ran her tongue along a statue and he came alive and took her off into the high, blue grass. I couldn’t really see what was happening, but he was obviously putting it to her, I felt so sexy I wanted to break wide open and run after them. But the next thing I remember, I was back on the street, panhandling, and we were all shouting at the tourists, “Mighty kind of y’all. I hope you have a nice orgasm with your dog tonight.”

  Then I felt like I was being smothered and I was up in a glare of revolving lights and beacons. Everything was going around. I was a shooting star, a comet piercing the firmament, blazing through the sky. When I finally got myself together, I was lying on the floor nude.

  I still can’t believe it. What’s happening to me? I was just lying on my bed, planning my mother’s birthday, listening to records and bham!

  Maybe it wasn’t a flashback. Maybe I’m schizo. That often starts in teenagers when they lose contact with reality, doesn’t it? Whatever it is, I’m really screwed up. I can’t even control my mind. The words I wrote when I was out are just squirming little lines and roads with a lot of rotten crap and symbols in between. Oh, what am I going to do? I need someone to talk to. I really and truly and desperately do. Oh God, please help me. I’m so scared and so cold and so alone. I have only you, Diary. You and me, what a pair.

  Later

  I’ve done a few problems in math and even read a few pages. At least I can still read. I memorized a few lines and my mind seems to be functioning pretty well now. I did exercises too and I guess I’ve got control of my body. But I wish I had someone to talk to, someone who knows what’s happening and what will happen. But I don’t, so I must forget this thing. Forget, forget, forget, and not look back. I’ll go ahead with Mom’s party. Maybe I can get Tim and Alex to take her to an early movie after school and then I can have a lovely dinner ready on the table when they get home. I’ll pretend this has all been a nightmare and forget it. Please God, let me forget it and don’t let it happen again. Please, please, please.

  April 12

  I kept very busy today and I didn’t think about it once. I think I’ll set my hair the way Mom likes it for tomorrow. That should make her happy.

  April 13

  It was a lovely birthday. Tim and Alex took Mom to see an early movie, which I think she liked even more than they did. Dad had to work late at his office and I was glad because I would have felt terribly self-conscious with him in the kitchen and me not knowing what I was doing, but everything just turned out beautifully. The chicken looked like Better Homes and Gardens’s, only better, because it smelled good too, and the asparagus was nice and tender and the rolls were just exactly like Gran would have made. In fact, I wish she had been here, she would have been proud of me. We had a fresh fruit cup and wilted lettuce salad with bacon dressing, it was a little too wilted, in fact much too wilted, but everyone pretended they didn’t notice and Daddy teased me and said he wouldn’t be surprise if I didn’t make some young man a good wife someday. I hope he didn’t notice the tears in my eyes, because I so much want to do just that!

  For dessert we just had fresh peach ice cream with frozen peaches over it and the whole thing was really pretty great, particularly since it was the first complete meal I ever cooked by myself. Alex made Mom a little ceramic candy dish shaped like her hand. It is really lovely, and all the more lovely because, with the help of only her Girl Scout teacher, she had it fired and everything without Mom even knowing. I used to be kind of jealous of Alex and I guess had a lot of hostility toward her even though I loved her. But now things are different. I really feel something new and wonderful and exciting is beginning to grow within me. Maybe that’s the way people get extra love to cover every child that’s born?

  Oh, I do hope that someday someone will want to marry me.

  April 14

  I got up really early this morning so I could take a long leisurely bath before Tim and Alex start pounding on the bathroom door. It was great. I love taking my time and enjoying life. After I shaved my legs and underarms, I really looked at my body critically for the first time in my life. It’s a nice body but a little small through the bust. I wonder what would happen if I exercised. But then, I guess I’m afraid that I’d wind up looking like a jersey cow. I’m glad I’m a girl. I even like having my periods. I guess I never wanted to be a boy. A lot of girls do wish they were boys, but not me. It’s hard to believe that at one point I was so screwed up I didn’t know what I was. Oh, I wish I could wipe away all that rotten past. I know Gramps is right. I must forgive and forget but I just can’t. I simply can’t! When I’m having the very nicest thoughts, the black ugly past comes flooding in like a nightmare. And it’s ruined my whole day already.

  (?)

  Guess what? Your genius friend got everything right on her English exam today. I know I did because it was so easy and I think I did almost as well in math. I might have missed two or three, but I know it couldn’t have been more than that. Isn’t that exciting?

  April 19

  Cripes! It’s started again! I met Jan downtown and she asked me to a “party” tonight. None of the kids think I’m really going to stay off, because most of those who’ve been busted before are just being more careful and discreet. When I told Jan, “No, thanks,” she just smiled! It scared me to death. She didn’t say anything at all. She just smiled at me like, “We know you’ll be back.” Oh, I hope not. I really hope not.

  April 21

  George just says “hi” to me in the coldest way. It’s completely obvious that he’s really straight and doesn’t want to be connected in any way with a doper. All the kids at school pretty much know who’s on and who’s off and I want to get in with the square kids, but I don’t see how I’m going to do it with my reputation han
ging over me. I couldn’t tell Mom and Dad this, but I really would like to go out on dates. I don’t mean with the grass gang, but with the nice kids. I’d like to have a boy put his arm around me in a movie. But how could I ever have that with one of the heads? Everyone knows that sex and shit1 go together, and as far as I’m concerned they are a bunch of social lepers — and that’s the way the straight kids feel too.

  The only sad thing is that I’m still classed as one of them, and I guess I always will be! It’s strange how much sex I’ve had and yet I don’t feel as though I’ve had any. I still want somebody to be nice and just kiss me goodnight at the door. That’s a laugh! Oh Diary, forgive me. I am trying so hard to have a positive outlook, but I can’t. I can’t. You’re the only one I can really open my soul to. I want to go back and blot out everything and start over. But inside I’m old and hard and I’m probably responsible for I don’t know how many junior high and grade school kids getting hung up, and they probably have turned around and hung up other kids. How can God ever forgive me? Why would He want to?

  I guess I’d better go take a bath before my parents hear these stupid-assed, crazy sobs which I can no longer control.

  Thanks for listening.

  April 24

  The kids have really started hassling me. Twice today Jan banged into me in the hall and called me Nancy Nice and Mary Pure. But I’ve had it. I really have had it this time and if I begin to feel too low, I’m just going to ask Mom and Dad to transfer me to another school. But the problem is where could I go that somebody would not find out about me? And how could I tell Mom and Dad everything so they’d let me change schools? Oh, I really don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve even started praying every night like I used to when I was little, but now I’m not just saying words, I’m begging. I’m pleading.

  Goodnight Diary.

  April 27

  It’s terrible not to have a friend. I’m so lonely and so alone. I think it’s worse on weekends than during the week, but I don’t know. It’s pretty bad all the time.

  April 28

  I got some papers back today and I haven’t gotten anything under a B+. I’m also starting a file of statistics relating to kids and drugs. Someday I’ll tell you about it when I don’t have to spend every minute studying.

  May 1

  Gramps had a stroke. It happened during the night, and Mom and Dad are flying out there today. They’ll be gone when we get home from school. They are so sweet. They were more worried about leaving me than anything else. I’m sure they know how lonely and frustrated I am and I’m sure they ache inside as I do about Gramps. I used to think I was the only one who felt things. but I really am only one infinitely small part of an aching humanity. It’s a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would really be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

  Gran will be so lonely if Gramps dies. I just can’t picture her without him. It would be like cutting a full person in half. Sweet old Gramps, he used to call me his Five-Star General. I think I’ll write to him before I leave for school and sign it “Gramp’s Five-Star General.” No one else will know what I’m talking about, but he’ll know.

  Bye now.

  (?)

  Dad just called to see if we were all right and to tell us Gramps is worse. He’s in a coma now and all of us are pretty upset, particularly Alex. When I tucked her in bed like Mom always does and kissed her goodnight, she asked if she could come and get into bed with me if she got scared during the night. Sweet little thing. But what do you say to someone when they feel rotten and there are no answers? ? ?

  Then I went into Tim’s room and kissed him goodnight. He’s pretty upset too and I guess we’re all in rotten shape, even Dad.

  May 4

  Tim and Alex and I all got up at the same time and straightened our rooms and fixed our cereal and fruit and cleaned up the dishes together. We were really quite efficient, if you can believe that!

  Gotta go to school but I’ll write more tonight if anything great or tragic happens.

  9:50 P.M.

  Dad called, but things are about the same. Gramps is a little worse but still holding on. They can’t really tell which way he is going to go. I guess he’s pretty critical though. Alex clung to me and cried. I feel like crying myself. The house seems so big and lonely and quiet without Mom and Dad.

  May 5

  Gramps died during the night. The day after tomorrow Doctor _____ from the university is going to take Tim and Alex and me to the airport and we’ll fly to his funeral. It seems unbelievable that I will never see Gramps again. I wonder what has happened to him. I hope he’s not just cold and dead. I can’t bring myself to think of Gramps’ body being eaten by worms and maggots. I just can’t bear to think that. Maybe the embalming fluid they use just cause the body to disintegrate into dust. Oh, I surely hope so.

  May 8

  I couldn’t believe that was Gramps lying in the casket. It was just a tired, drained, skeleton covered by skin. Oh, I’ve seen dead frogs and birds and lizards and Easter chickens, but this was such a shock! It seemed unreal. It was almost like a bad trip. I’m so grateful I never had a bummer. But maybe if my first trip had been, I wouldn’t have taken any more. In that respect I wish it had. Gran seemed so calm and loving. She had one arm around my shoulder and one around Alexandria’s. Precious, strong Gran, even during the long, long, long, long, long funeral she didn’t cry. She just sat there with her head bowed. It was a strange almost eerie thing but I felt as though Gramps was there beside her. I talked to Tim about it later and he felt exactly the same way.

  When they lowered Gramps’ body into the ground, that was the worst part. That was positively the worst part in the whole world. Alexandria and I cried even though none of the rest of the family did. I tried to be as strong and controlled as they are, but I just simply couldn’t. Mom and Gran and Dad dabbed at their eyes occasionally and Tim kept sniffing, and of course Alex is a little girl, but me, well, naturally I made a spectacle of myself again!

  May 9

  Gran is going home with us tonight and she’ll stay till school is out. Then I’ll come back with her and help her get organized to move in with us until she can find a little apartment close by.

  I don’t know when I have ever been so tired in my life. I can’t even imagine how Gran holds up because I can barely move. All of us look as though we have been endlessly ill. Even little Alex is dragging. I wonder how long it will take us to adjust to life without Gramps? Will we ever be the same? How will dear, precious Gran manage? When she gets into her new apartment I’m going to stay with her often and take her to movies and go on long walks with her and things.

  May 12

  This morning I looked out the window and saw new green popping through the soil and I started crying uncontrollably again. I don’t really understand the resurrection. I can’t even conceive how Gramps’ body which will decay and sour and mold and mildew and fall into crumbling little bits can ever come back together again. But I can’t understand how a brown dried-up, shriveled little gladiola bulb can reblossom either. I guess that God can put atoms and molecules and bodies together again if a gladiola bulb without even a brain can do it. This really makes me feel a lot better, and I don’t know how I could ever expect to understand death when I can’t even understand television or electricity, or even stereo for that matter. In fact I understand so little I don’t know how I even exist.

  I once read somewhere that man uses less than a tenth (I think) of his brain capacity. Imagine having 90 percent more thinking ability, and using every bit of it. That would be simply glorious! Imagine what a perfectly marvelous planet this would be if minds were 90 times more efficient than they are now?

  May 14

  I had a nightmare last night about Gramps’ body all filled with maggots and worms, and I thought about what would happen if I should die. Worms don’t make distinction under the ground. They wouldn’t care that I’m young and that my flesh is solid and firm. Thank goodness Mom heard me moa
ning and came in and helped me get hold of myself. Then we went and got some hot milk, but I was still crawling and I couldn’t tell her what had happened. I’m sure she thought it had something to do with the times I ran away, but I couldn’t tell her because this was even more horrible.

  I was still shivering after the milk, so we both put on shoes and walked around the yard. It was chilly even with our robes over our night clothes, but we talked about a lot of things including my becoming a social worker or something in that area, and Mom is very pleased that I want to help other people. She is really very understanding. Everybody should be as lucky as I am.

  May 15

  I have to force myself to concentrate in school. I didn’t know that death took so much out of people. I feel completely drained still and have to force myself into everything I do.

  May 16