Dear journal,
Father has bought you for me to confide my deepest thoughts. I am going to do that. My name is Isadora Magdalena Baggins. I am 16 years old. I dream...no, I desire to travel beyond the Shire. I dont want to live here for the rest of my life. Apparently, my father has no wish to leave. He even sent me to bed without dinner. Imagine that. A hobbit without dinner!
Anyways, as my father states, "You are a Baggins of Bag End, there is no use for traveling." I roll my eyes whenever he says that. He is such a bore sometimes.
I busy myself by reading his extensive book collection and writing a book I call, "Sweet Mother." My mother died a couple weeks after I was born but father wont tell me of what. He still is slightly broken up. I truly don't believe he will heal.
My father said that my mother was an Elf but she strayed away from it and met my father and had me. According to my dad, I will live twice as long as the normal hobbit, which is why I am really in no hurry to grow up. I have my fathers hair, the normal curly brown of typical hobbits but have my mothers bright brown eyes. My skin is pale which father says that I get from mom and my feet are normal sized. I am quite grateful for that though.
When I was young, I taught myself how to throw a knife, like any young hobbit does but unlike other hobbits, I kept throwing even after I grew up. I am also extremely good at sword-fighting. Father disagrees but I am going to do what I do. I should go.
Sincerely,
I.M.B.
"Isadora?" the voice of my father drifts into my room. I hurry towards it, but not after putting away my journal. I wouldn't want him to read it. After all, I did call him a bore in it.
"Yes, father?" I questioned him.
I collided with him, and he quickly grabbed my arm before I fell.
"Be careful" he warned me.
"You called me?"
"I did, can you go to the market for me?" My father has lately been working on a book so he rarely leaves the house.
"I can"
"Thank you so much, Isadora, I love you so much" he pulled me into a hug, pressing some money into my hand.
"I love you too, dad" I whispered. He waved me off then, and I quickly depart for the market, a smile on my face.
"Morning, Isadora" the voice of the apple seller drifts over to me. I smile warmly at him, waving. No respectable hobbit should ever be mean to another being.
"Morning, Didio" I replied. He grinned widely.
"Apples, get your apples!" he yelled out. I continued on to get food.
On my way home, I whistled. The tune was something my mother had taught my father before I was born.
"The adventure has just begun but dont be afraid. I will always be with you. The trolls follow me as do the orcs, But I wont be afraid. I know you're with me." As I approach my house, I notice a rather tall man speaking with my father. My fathers face is beet red, the color that it gets when he gets angry. I dont see it a lot but I did see it when I was young and stole an object from my aunt.
"We do not want any adventures here! Not now, not ever. Thank you very much. I suggest you try over the hill or across the water...Good morning" and with that as his parting, he slammed the door behind him. I stormed up to the man.
"What did you say to him?" I demanded.
"Isadora Baggins, I simply asked your father to partake on an adventure, nothing more, my child" I scrutinized him before heading in after my father.
'I said I did not want...Isadora, you're home" he said.
"I got the fish, what was that about?"
"Nothing major, Isadora. No reason to fret" the red slowly drained out of his face, leaving it a pale ashen that worried me.
"Father, you look ill"
He brushed it off.
"I am fine dear"