Dear Diary,
My husband is Tom Parson and I have two children. my family and I believe in the doctrine of Big Brother and I accept everything the party tells me. I am 30 years old, and I am aware that I look older. My apartment smells like boiled-cabbage and sweat. I am tired and I have dust in the creases of my face. Even though living conditions are horrible, I do not complain. My husband works at the Ministry of Truth, likes to exercise, lead community hikes and activities and is the the treasurer for our block for Hate Week.
My daughter and son are members of the Junior Spies and belong to scout-like organizations sponsored by the government like the Youth League. One day, while my husband was away, I knocked on Winston’s door to ask him to help me unclog my kitchen sink. and he was writing in his diary. When he was helping me, my children shot him with a slingshot and yelled that me and Winston were thought criminals but my husband scolded them. I know that Winston hates our family, but I hope he sees that we could all have a friendship despite Big Brother’s rule. My children are always loud and complaining because they can’t go see the hanging of Eurasian prisoners. I am nervous and afraid around my children because I’m scared of what they will do one in the future. I don’t believe a child should want to watch someone die. I fear that they will hurt me, or themselves.
Mrs. Parson
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