May 1st, 1990

Oh my Izzie,

I would like to say that I am happy you are with your daddy and Adrian. But I’m not. I’m so jealous I can’t see straight. It’s not fair. How do you get to be at home and I can’t? Why can’t your daddy take me in too? He told me that he loved me and that I was an angel. It doesn’t make sense. I guess I just need to realize that nobody wants me.

My new social worker, God help me I can’t remember her name. Becky Trimmer, I think. Anyway, she drove me down the highway to hell this morning. I’m back at Grannie’s dungeon.

Becky left me with a final thought as she dropped me off. She said, “Now Eden you have to behave in this home. You’re getting too old to be a miserable brat. No one is going to want you around if you keep doing whatever you want to do. When they give you rules or tell you no, you have to listen. Do you understand?“

I tell you what, those words went in one ear and out the other.

Too many rules. Too many regulations. Too many religions. Too many people. It’s all too much.

I wish I could come to you. But it’s not going to work right now. Old granny and her family decided they wanted to go to the mountains in Georgia to a church camp. We leave in a few minutes.

I hate this place so much! You would think from all of the bite marks on my arm that good ole granny would notice that something was wrong. She always thinks I’m lying and doing it to myself. If she only knew what her granddaughter is doing it to me. That girl is a sick-o Izzie. I saw her stick a pencil up her you know what. When I walked in on her she told me to use my fingers instead of the pencil. When I told her no she bit me. I took her pencil and poked it at her. Too bad it wasn’t sharp. I would’ve stabbed her with it. At least I would be punished over something I actually did wrong.

I do not want to go on this trip! Last time I sat in a van Diana, the granddaughter made me sit on her lap. She put her hands on my hips and kept making me rock on top of her. When her mom asked what was going on, Diana told her mom to turn the music up because we were dancing to it. I feel so yucky. How can something so wrong feel good? I didn’t want to rock on her, but I didn’t stop it either.

Maybe if I put my purple princess power protection on, Diana would stay away. The last time I wore my purple protection band on my forehead mean ole granny laughed her ass off and told me that I wasn’t an actress and to wipe the gunk off of my face.

Why is it that everything I do, I am either a liar or an actress? When I cry, granny tells me to stop dropping alligator tears.

People suck man. They really suck. I mean really really really… SUCK!

Sorry I’m in such a bad mood. A week with Jesus and deer meat for breakfast has got me in a fog.

Well I’ve got to go now. I’m so happy we are back in touch again. Although I’m not happy Adrian gets time with you instead of me, I’m glad that you are with him. It kind’ve freaks me out when you say that you love him. I don’t know what it’s like to love a boy. I think my love is broken for anyone. Well except for you Izzie. I’ll always love you.

I’m closing my eyes and thinking of you. It’s summer. The breeze from the island blows gently as we tell secrets and laugh away the day in the tall grass where no one can find us, no one can hurt us, and no one can take us away, or tear us apart.

Forever,

Eden

Reblogged from Izzie and Eden's Diary:

November 1st, 1989

To my dearest Izzie, the one I love the most!

I miss you so much. What happened at your daddy’s house after the police investigated? I haven’t heard from you, I am worried. I can’t get a hold of my social worker to find out where you are. I am sending our diary to your daddy. The key will be hidden in the fold of the envelope, He is a blabbering drunk.

Read more… 854 more words

We are starting Izzie and Eden’s diary back up. Catch up on the last diary entry!

“No wonder they treat me like pond scum. They think I’m a lun-o, crazy kid. Say goodbye to Dr. Evil cuzzo, It is time to put a stop to this madness.” – Izzie and Eden’s Diary

I miss you so much. What happened at your daddy’s house after the police investigated? I haven’t heard from you, I am worried. I can’t get a hold of my social worker to find out where you are. I am sending our diary to your daddy. The key will be hidden in the fold of the envelope, He is a blubbering drunk. He will never find it there.

I keep hoping you will show up at my window and cock-a-doodle do to wake me in the morning. I wait for the phone to ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling for me, but it never does.

I haven’t eaten much these last few weeks. I think I got spinach-itis from Fargo Creepster. I think it burned holes through my intestines. That is what it feels like anyway. I bet she infested me with tiny little worms that like to sit in tangled places, the type of green wigglers that like the challenge of getting out of twisted situations.

I’m sitting in my room once again. I spend a lot of time in here. This foster mom sure has it out for me. I can tell by the way she looks at me and speaks out the side of her scarred mouth as she whispers stories of disgust about me to her neighbor. I can hardly stand the slashing of my foster mom’s tongue, she is quite a prickly little pear.

I just can’t seem to get it right Izzie. Everywhere I go and everything I do is wrong. I want to get it right, but I don’t know how to anymore. The rules keep changing. I have lost all track of time.

I don’t know how long I have been locked in this room. It seems like forever. I know the sun went up and down twice already. I’ve had just enough time to look through the drawers in the closet. They are filled with files.

I found my file. It is black and white bullshit. If I stepped in it, my foot would squish in brown. If I got a file like this on an f-kid, I wouldn’t know what to do with them either. I can’t believe what people think in their heads. It seems insane to me. I copied some down for you.

• Grandma said, “She is a rotten little bitch and if you don’t take her I will leave her at your office in the middle of the night. Eden will never fit in with this family, she has too many problems”.

• Daddy Bo said, “Eden is just like her mother, a little slut, and I don’t want her to get knocked up and have to take care of her and her little brat”. Then, Daddy Bo’s mom said, “She may need psychiatric help. I believe she has schizophrenia and I don’t want her to pass it on to her little brother, he is an angel”.

• The Melbourne Home for girl’s foster mom said, “I just can’t handle her anymore. I can’t get through to Eden. She needs more than I can give her”.

• My last foster mom said, “She is a lazy child, she is a liar, a manipulator, and she causes the other kids to act up. I believe Eden is suicidal and will talk other kids into following her in her way of thinking. She is also ruining my biological children and my husband. Eden is a miserable brat and she must be removed from my home today.”

This makes me so angry. I feel helpless and defenseless against these words. This is not me. I don’t feel like this inside. It is not the truth! They hate me. What did I do to them? Don’t they know that once it is written it stays forever and ever!! It just keeps piling up. No wonder they treat me like pond scum. They think I’m a lun-o, crazy kid. They should’ve put me in jail the moment I came between the split of my mother. It would’ve saved them all a lot of trouble.

I am going to take control of my own life now. I don’t owe these people anything. I know my purpose is more than what they see of me. I know my heart. I am good. I care.

I got a note under my door from a foster girl who just moved in. She told me to be ready to run. She is going to break into my room at midnight. I am going to run fast and hard until I can’t run anymore. You won’t find me where I usually go Izzie. I am going to a place where no adults exist. I will wait for you there in the middle of the land where it looks like tall sea grass.

One day you and I will make a difference. No one can speak this horrible for too long before something good comes out of it. We may be hellions, but we are also sweet and kind. We are just kids that have been kicked, run-down, and left behind.

Say goodbye to Dr. Evil cuzzo, It is time to put a stop to this madness.

Now. If I could just figure out how. Got any suggestions?

Forever and always,
Eden

Note from author:

Dear friends, fans, supporters, and family,

It is a pleasure of mine to share these diary entries with you. This is the last entry of the year. We at Walla Walla Bing Bang Productions are working hard at getting Izzie and Eden to come to life. Please keep in touch with us and don’t forget Izzie and Eden. You can subscribe to our newsletter below. We will keep you updated on the progress we are making to getting Sunny Lane to screen. Stay tuned for next season filled with more stories, more schemes to escape, and big adventures.

Take care and love to you all, your support, comments, and words of encouragement keep me sharing these stories everyday.

See you on Sunny Lane!

xoxo,

Lydia and the Walla Walla’s

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