Author's note: I found this diary a few years ago in an abandoned house, under old furniture. When I started reading it, I was about to leave it behind and throw it away, because I thought it was dull, but as I went along, I knew that its reading would mark me forever. I have taken the license to call it "Marta's diary" because nowhere does her name appear. I have decided to publish it in Steemit so that it may be recorded, forever, of what is recounted in it. I will go up the whole diary little by little, until I reach the last day of the diary. I don't want to bring anything forward; I'll just say the police have a copy. 

December 25, 1996

I don't know what to write. I could start with "Dear Diary," but that's silly. I just wasn't expecting this gift. A diary. All I know is that I woke up before dawn, when even the eastern sunlights were not coming through my window, while I heard my parents pounding in the living room trying hard to place the presents. I know they are very excited about it, but they have known for many years that I know they are Santa Claus. I've known since I was ten. However, they don't care and every year they worry about not telling me what they are going to give me. I remember one day I told them not to worry so much, to give me the money, that I would buy my own gifts. What was that for? 

"Santa Claus' gifts are sacred." 

My mother told me with an angry gesture, accompanied by my father's murderous gaze.

The truth is that Santa Claus has always filled me with enthusiasm and, I must admit, I like to have no idea what my parents are going to give me because I know they will be good gifts. Being an only daughter has its advantages.

However, I wasn't expecting this gift. 

A diary? 

What do I want a diary for? 

When I tore up the wrapping paper and read the word "diary" in golden letters, I was tempted to throw it in my parents' face. I held back, because I knew that after this crap gift, the good presents would come later.

That's right, because my parents always take my wishes into account and are asking me four months before what I want for Christmas Day. 

They knew what the star gift was and they gave it to me. A mobile phone. 

The Ericsson GA628. 

Whoa! Wow! When I took off the paper and saw the picture of the phone in the box, I couldn't contain the joy. A mobile phone! My heart was gonna pop out of my mouth. My hands trembled and I almost cried of joy. That was, without a doubt, the best gift I had ever been given. When I had it in my hands, I didn't know what to do with it. I was like a fool admiring him, as if I'd found the Holy Grail or something. My father told me that they had ordered a red one (red is my favorite color), but the phone company only had yellow left. A colored shit that I don't like at all, although that doesn't matter to me very much, because I will be one of the few in my high school that will have a mobile phone. 

My father gave me a summary, for fools, of how to use it and immediately knew how to use it. I've always been very smart about this new technology stuff. I know they'll be the future.

For now I have few to call. All I have in my address book is home phone, grandparents' phone and my uncles' phone. I also have Magdalena's phone number that when I called her from my Ericsson, I couldn't believe it. He even told me I was making it up. I'll stop by your house this afternoon to show it to her. He'll die of envy. 

Well, dear diary, this is it for today. I hope I have something to tell you one of these days.

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