April 08, 1941
I was stuck with Mrs. Dubose, the mad, old lady, for a month reading stories to her. That suffocating month passed away, and Scout and I did not see her afterwards. As Atticus announced the news of her death, I was happy with her death and thought that she finally died, and I would not need to hear mean things from her anymore. Atticus told us her illness and those times that she was fighting against her agony; I began to feel pity for her. I was astonished that she left a candy box of camellia for me before she passed away. I was moved and I was regretful saying rude things behind her back and cutting her camellia.
How could she just leave the camellia to me and die? If she had told me her illness, I would have been very nice to her. For a moment, I hated myself for being rude to her and asked myself why I could not be nice to her even for just one second. All those times that she was fighting against her pain were not easy, and she still acted as if nothing happened to her. I guessed she did not know how to express herself well and she wanted to be strong. I kept her camellia and went back to my room.
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