Dear Diary

• Madeline Joyce, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

30th of January 1825
Dear Diary,
Today I felt terrible the work was so hard. I sat down in the shade of a tree to rest, as every bone of my body ached. We had been up to sunrise working to clear the dry and dusty land. Then I felt it hard, a stinging whip across my back. I stood up suddenly biting my lip and holding back tears. I turned around; it was the boss.
Elizabeth
31st of January 1825
Dear Diary,
Today was as hard as yesterday. I have been waiting to write here all day. It seems to be my only time of peace. The whip lashings across my back still feel like fire. I have noticed some are weeping with infection.
I am a convict, I thought the harder I worked it would be an easier life for me. I wish I had more money for doctors to save my mother. That is why I stole the oil from the old lady next door. I hoped it would save mother, but my luck ran out. Mother died from the savage Winter and here I am trapped in Australia.
Elizabeth
7th of February 1825
Dear Diary,
I have not written for so long. Another convict on the homestead told me I have been in bed all week with the doctor visiting daily. While I was working I collapsed as my infection on my back had grown so bad. The food here is poor and I did not have any medicine.
I have become a bit stronger and am doing light chores around the master's house. This includes helping to care for the master's children. I miss being with children my own age.
I have just heard a lady from my master's church has offered to adopt me. Surely this can only mean a different life for me.
Elizabeth