Marcy S., age 16, Tennessee

Bright, very cold. Tore note up before letting Mary read. Someone said my time line looked as if an artist had made it. Help! Good dinner. Mary feels and I feel that she is not going to live much longer. Oh, Diary, what would life be without Mary. She says that every night she tells my picture everything — if only I were in the picture! In the afternoon after school, she wrote me a note and I had to promise to return it immediately after reading it. So I left typing and walked to the entrance with her and read it. Then I dropped it and fled — the tears almost there. Mary followed and finally I broke down and cried into her fur collar, right in the hall! You can imagine how much typing I got done. At night Mom and Dad both went away and I stayed over at George’s. Wrote a poem with his help (although he didn’t know to whom it was) for Mary. To bed late. Earl suddenly said to me this afternoon, “I feel poetic — think I’ll write a poem.”