Anne of Manhattan by Brina Starler

May 3

Dear Diary,

Today the middle set of Hammond twins threw up on me. Yes, both of them. Their mom was out at the store, so I had to figure out how to get two preschoolers into the same bath and actually wash them. It was like wrestling a tub full of eels, if eels screamed when water touched them and liked to pull my hair. As terrible as it is for me, I do get why Mrs. Hammond needs to “run out to the store for just a sec” all the time.

This isn’t, by far, the worst foster home I’ve lived in, but grocery shopping sounds like heaven—if I could do it alone.

Forever tired,

Anne

June 15

Dear Diary,

Welp. I’m back at Poplar Grove group home. Mr. Hammond died of a heart attack, very unexpectedly according to Mrs. Hammond, but not very unexpectedly if you ask me. Which no one ever does. But the doctor also didn’t seem to think it was much of a surprise, seeing as Mr. Hammond hadn’t changed his “lifestyle” a bit since last year’s nearly deadly episode and most of his medicine was still sitting in the kitchen cabinet. Anyway, I’m back here because Mrs. Hammond took the kids, all six of them, and moved in with her sister. Which is fine, honestly. I didn’t really want to move to Cincinnati anyway.

Off to wrestle that TV hog Jimmy Saltzer for the remote.

Anne

June 30

Dear Diary,

My new caseworker says she’s found a foster home for me and I’ll be moving next week! (Between you and me, I’ll be quite relieved to live somewhere else again. Lillie is being awful again, she’s such a bully.)

Anyway! My new home is all the way up to the north side of the island, on a farm or something. The people who live there are a brother and sister, both single and pretty old. At least forty, I think. My roommate here, Dani, thinks it’s weird that they still live together, but I think it’s kind of cool. At least they always have each other, if nothing else. I wouldn’t mind moving around so much if I had someone to do it with, like a brother or sister. It must be nice to know exactly where your family is, because they live in the same place you do.

I hope I like it there.

Fingers crossed,

Anne

July 6

DEAR DIARY,

I’M AT THE BOTTOM OF A WELL OF AGONY AND DESPAIR.

THERE WAS A MISTAKE AND THEY DON’T WANT ME.

TODAY HAS BEEN THE ABSOLUTE WORST DAY. EVER.

TRAGICALLY WEEPING,

ANNE

July 7

Dear Diary,

I might have overreacted a bit when I wrote you before. The thing is, everything always seems worse at night. When it’s dark and the shadows are creeping around my bed, it’s hard to remember the good stuff. But when I woke up this morning, it was all good stuff. For a while, I just sat in the window seat of the most amazing room I’ve ever slept in and listened to the birds talking to each other. I wonder what they were saying. Well, I guess I should go down for breakfast now. Maybe I can get an hour or two of exploring in before I get picked up to head back to Poplar Grove.

Gotta run!

Anne

July 7

Dear Diary,

I can stay at Green Gables! Marilla and Matthew said they’d like me to stay, just to try it out, they said don’t get too overexcited, but I’m hopeful, so hopeful. There are no more words left in me to write, because I’m filled all the way up to the top of my head with joy!!!

Blissfully floating on clouds,

Anne

August 5

Dear Diary,

I met a girl today, Diana Barry. Her family lives next door, if you can call four acres away with a horse pasture between Green Gables and their house “next door.” It was instant friendship! She made me laugh so hard, I snorted Capri Sun out of my nose. I knew we would be best friends when she started laughing too, but not in a mean way. So happy I made at least one friend before school starts, less than three weeks away. Ugh. New girl again. It’s supposed to be a really nice school, though, and Diana goes there. She said it’s not so bad, wearing a uniform. At least I won’t have to worry about trying to hide how little clothing I actually have, like I used to all the time at my old schools. Sometimes it was a real strain on my creativity, if I’m honest.

Hoping for the best,

Anne