Do you like to write a diary? For m

Do you like to write a diary? For me, I love to do it, and I always record everything that I see and everywhere that I go. It helps me to build memories, keep every feeling especially bad feeling and remind me that I should not forget it. Never! Oh! Something slips my mind. It helps me to keep my secret as well. Do you think I have only one diary? No! I have two diaries; a white cover for wonderful day and a black cover for the worst day. Can you guess which diary I like? Actually, I like the black one! It looks funny, doesn’t it? When I have a free time, I will read it again and again. I know that although I read the same story many times, somebody in dairy doesn’t come back to me. But at least, she or he knows that I miss him. It looks like nonsense! Ha-ha! You know, the worst stories always remind me with pain and tear.
Before coming back here, I was so happy with my life in Paris, France. Everything seemed to be great; my dream came true. I was going to be a well-known designer. There were several clothing companies wanted to work with me. Each company offered to give me a high salary in each month. Wow! I could not make a decision until Hermes Company gave me double wage. So, I could easily choose where I should work with. Success! Just a thought! I felt like I was walking on a rose road which was decorated by pine trees along both sides of the road and covered with white snow. The atmosphere around me was fresh, and my body was drifted towards light air slowly and slowly. I really felt comfortable and could not control my feelings. I was so glad that I could not say anything. But one day, black color got inside my heart; I instantly understood that everything had changed when I heard bad news from Thailand.
“Hello!”
“Hello! Are you Patrada Letthaisakul?”
“Yes I am. Who are you?”
“I’m a police officer. I’m sorry to say that your father dies, and Ms.Chutima, she has become a lunatic. We would like you to come back Bangkok within three days.”
“………………”
“Are you OK?”
“OK! I got it, and I’ll call you back immediately if I arrive Bangkok.”
My world stopped moving for a while. I could not hear any sound except my breath sound which was quieter and quieter slowly. Moreover, I cried my eyes out, and I had nothing left even someone who stayed by my side. My brain asked me that why he had gone. Why? Then, I dropped my dream and return to my home right away.
After finishing funeral ceremony, I went to hospital to visit Chutima, my younger sister.



She was an adopted child of my father. Her real parents were died by car accident since she was four years old. What a pity! My father could not leave her alone, so he decided to look after her like she was his real daughter. He gave her everything; moreover, he barely scolded her. It was so enviable. Sometime, I wanted to rid her off, but I could not do it. I wanted to play with her. I didn’t know why I felt like this. No answer! I moved closer to her, and I saw her in bad condition. She was in patient clothing and was sitting on a wheelchair. She looked up the sky all the time. She looked emotionless and didn’t say any word. She merely smiled and laughed; meanwhile, she was crying. I tried to talk with her, but she didn’t reply me. I just looked at her. At that time, I didn’t know how I feel for what fucking things she had done. Should I hate her? Go to hell. GO! GO! GO! I could not stand to see her in my sight anymore.