Mrs. Fullerton Diary Entry

My Dearest Diary,
It is hard to fathom the fact that Mrs. Fullerton’s house will be demolished by tomorrow. Danny and I had grown quite accustomed to the sight of chickens running astray amongst her apple and cherry trees. Nonetheless, the community members believe it is for the best…everyone is clearly excited about resale values increasing. Personally, I am disgusted that a vibrant old lady such as Mrs. Fullerton has to uproot her entire life due to the fact her existence is seen as an “eyesore” to her neighbors.
The other women must be calling me dramatic and overly-emotional, but I can’t seem to help myself. Am I the only person around here who has any ounce of empathy left? Is this truly a neighborhood I want to be raising my son in? I wish I could have done more for Mrs. Fullerton, but the others were dead set on achieving the vision they have for the community. Mrs. Fullerton’s residence only seemed to disrupt the suburban atmosphere fabricated by the new white houses.
I know it isn’t much, but I decided to help Mrs. Fullerton assemble her belongings; leaving behind a house you’ve lived in for 50 years is no easy task. She reminisced about a
I tried to pay the old lady her fifty cents but she adamantly refused. “What’s the use? They’ll be cutting down these old things anyways.” To see a business-oriented lady such as Mrs. Fullerton refuse money absolutely breaks my heart. I grow more enraged by the hour thinking about Steve, Carl, Janie, Edith and anyone else who signed the petition that resulted in this entire situation. The other adults are so blinded from ambition they seemed to have dropped their empathy down the ditches they dig outside their superficial houses. They justify their actions by claiming Mrs. Fullerton will be heavily compensated for her troubles, but no amount of money can replace the memories and history her family has formed in that old