Now there's just the two of us, since Cholly died and Sammy ran away. And this time I believe it's for good. How will I manage to take care of Pecola by myself? After all, I have my work. At her age I was a responsible young woman, in charge of the household and my two younger siblings.
I'm really worried about Pecola. She's changed. People are talking - I've heard them. They say she's gone mad and I'm willing to agree. She's constantly looking in the mirror, talking to herself. I try to get her attention but she avoids eye contact.
I'm not to blame. They have ruined her. She's made up stories, saying her father raped her. He sure was a drunk loser, but he would never do that. They've ruined her, by listening to her lie stories. I was so angry - I beat her almost to death. I just couldn't stop.
I used to love her so much - before she was born. When I first saw her, I was really disappointed; she was such an ugly little creature. I wonder if things could have been different if she hadn't been so ugly.
But what can you expect, growing up in this miserable home? I did what I could, working hard to provide food and whatever else the children needed. I can fully understand Sammy, running away from everything. We don't belong here, but now it's too late. We're trapped.
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