Summary: The diary of Adele Hauven, from the days where her happiness never felt more assured, to the days where her family becomes torn apart. 9 one-shot.
Author's Note: I was inspired to write this after reading the Scientist's journal on 9experiment. Very well done! So here is Adele from Bloom in Barren Land, and her own journal entries. The country and city she lives in, and in this world is the main center of 9, is Strathburg Germany. It was the only place I could imagine a Chancellor's dictatorship. However that does not voice my own opinions on Germany, I happen to have visited the country myself. I truly encourage my readers to visit it someday; it's a gorgeous country with a rich, modern culture.
Also, please excuse me if the dates don't match up with the Scientist entries. I needed something that would span up to when Adele turns 17.
______
April 16th, 1948:
Dear Diary,
Today marks my fourteenth birthday, and Grandpa has bestowed upon me a journal of my very own. I'm extremely excited; money has been short as of late and Grandpa has saved up money from his toy-making to buy paper and book covers to make a diary for me. It makes me feel like most of the other girls who can afford diaries with little locks and keys on them...but for now I keep my diary hidden in the cover of an unused bible. May God protect my secret thoughts.
Grandpa himself keeps a journal, which makes me doubly proud; he oftens speaks of how relieving it is to write out what you feel on paper. So for my first entry I shall enlist the details of my birthday party. Since most of my girl friends from school are out at the beaches, now that summer has arrived, it has been a family occasion. Aunty Marie and Uncle Klaus came by and brought brioche and raspberry jam for the birthday lunch. For a present, I recieved a brand new pair of suede gloves! They fit like a dream around my hands and I wear them even as I write. Sadly they came by later than anticipated; Uncle Klaus had to drop off a painting of Strathburg by the library. I haven't seen it yet, but I daresay I will when I visit the library this summer. Grandpa came as well of course, he gave me this diary last. He had bought a mutton joint to cook for the lunch, lord knows the poor man can't cook worth a dime! I'll have to drop off some cake by his house when I take my walks.
Mother and Father had been busy preparing for when Frans comes, but they didn't hold back for my birthday. I woke up this morning to a new velvet green dress and a lovely leather satchel for school; my old one was beginning to grow holes. To go along with roasted mutton, brioche, and jam, there was clam chowder and waffles with confectioners sugar for dessert. For an extra surprise; a strawberry cake with icing and everything. I was so happy to be fourteen! With all that I have now, and a new baby brother on the way, I proudly declare myself the happiest girl on Earth.
Sincerely,
Adele
June 2nd, 1948:
Dear Diary,
Frans has finally come! Poor Mother labored for nearly ten hours but he finally came out! He looks more like mother than I do, he has her light blond hair and eyes, but father swears he looks like Grandpa. Poor Grandpa...he wasn't able to come today. He'd been recently offered a new job from the Chancellor himself and was busy all day. But we received a telegram from his new office giving us a congratulations. He's coming to Frans' birthday party tomorrow, and to know we'll see each other again so soon after my birthday makes me even happier.
Mother let my hold my new baby brother in my arms, showing me how to cup the back of his head so he doesn't tilt too far back and hurt himself. It was like holding a little fairy creature, he was so light and delicate that my hands trembled in worry that I'd drop him. He looked at me with those sweet little eyes and cooed, and I found myself sulking for hours when we had to leave him. Some of the girls at school said that having a baby in the house is a total pain, but it won't be for me. I have truly found to love Frans, without him even knowing my name or who I was to eventually mean to him.
Sincerely,
Adele
July 4th, 1948:
Dear Diary,
There was an Independence Day Parade in the side of town where the Americans chose to live, it's called Fair Boulevard. Papa took me to see it, and it was incredible! Fireworks and sparklers flashed everywhere and there was so many good foods to eat I don't know how many dishes I stuck my finger in. Men in red, white, and blue danced on stilts and people dressed up like colonials. We're not American, but no one seemed to mind. Americans seem like good natured folk...I am happy to have them in our capital.
Poor Frans and Mother were ill with fever today and couldn't come. Papa reassured me that it was a normal side-effect of summer mothers and babies. I don't think Frans would have agreed with the parade; loud bangs and fireworks would probably make him scream. We saw Grandpa though, he was with the Chancellor who wanted to overlook the festivities. I don't think the Chancellor liked the Americans as much as I did...he looked quite cross all through the parade.
Sincerely,
Adele
November 23rd, 1948:
Dear Diary,
I have had little time to write as we have been overloaded with preparing for our Annual Harvest Festival. The Americans have a version of it called Thanksgiving, but ours is a lot grander and more public than private. Everyone in Strathburg makes an enormous feast which is shared with everyone, bringing dishes upon dishes to little stands at the festival. Not only food...but lots of games and entertainment too! I'm going to be hanging out with the girls from school during one of the plays called Le Miserables. It's supposed to be French and very popular now. But I promised to come eat with the family afterwards, so we're going to be trying our luck at the stall games a hour before.
School has been busy, and I've been working extra hard at Science in particular. It's the subject I like least, but if I do well in it it would make Grandpa proud. He's such a great scientist already...I want people to believe that I'm truly his daughter. Although I've been helping mother bake bread, stir soups, and babysit Frans all week, I'm determined to present my A+ test results when Grandpa comes to visit.
Sincerely,
Adele
January 10th, 1949:
Dear Diary,
The winters in Strathburg are supposed to be one of the coldest in the world. I suppose I'll have to visit the Artic Circle someday to see for it myself, but for now I am too troubled to think about it.
Our Chancellor has loaded Grandpa with so much work that I fear we may never see him again. I once tried to visit him at work; but the guards at the door wouldn't even let me send a message. They thought me a spy! I was never so insulted in my life! I had to give up eventually, but I did leave my package of snacks for Grandpa at his house. I must ask him for the key soon...I couldn't help noticing the hopeless mess inside. If I don't get to see him I should at least feel safe knowing he's not living in complete despair.
I was a bit proud to see Grandpa in the news however. All the girls at school were talking about it; how his great invention was in the process of completion. So many of them asked if I knew anything, and I must say the attention went to my head a little. I sometimes wish boys were allowed at our school; I see them pass by the gates on their own way to school but I can't quite pluck up the courage to talk to them. I suppose its improper anyways...That's why I was enrolled in a girls school after all. I do dearly hope to catch a glimpse of Grandpa soon, the winter chill in that lab of his is probably bad for his health.
Feburary 14th, 1949:
Dear Diary,
While I did not plan to spend my Valentines Day this way, I am really quite happy.
For the first time since Christmas, I was able to stay with Grandpa. He unfortunately caught the flu during work, it got so bad that the Chancellor had to send him home. Mama had to work more with laundering, and Papa's hopeless at cooking and cleaning, so I came over to Grandpa's house to care for him. I managed to pull him away from his research table and put him to bed with split pea soup and some chamomile tea...then got to tidying up the house. It took nearly half the day to organize things, but I managed. I'm quite the housekeeper too. I couldn't keep Grandpa from reading a research book as he rested however, but he did talk to me for some time about his work.
The B.R.A.I.N., as he calls it sounds fascinating. Not long into it's construction and it's already learning to build things and is completing tasks beyond Grandpa's wildest imagination. He says that they must take it very slowly though...rushed work could potentially corrupt the machine's potential. I agree, Papa used to work with horses before marrying Mama, and he said that it's extremely difficult to undo any useless tricks that holds back a good horse. However, I don't know any horses that could beat Grandpa at checkers...for once.
Sincerely,
Adele
March 30th, 1949:
Dear Diary,
We received two unexpected visits today. One was quite welcome; Grandpa dropped by for lunch and a visit with me and Frans out in the fields by Strathburg. It's very good that he's come, Mama's been worried sick...Grandpa being her father and all. Although I voiced these worries to him myself, he's reassured me it'll all be alright. Frans seems happy to have Grandpa around too...like me, he has grown a sincere affection for our grandfather. The flowers were blooming earlier this year...spring was short and summer has come early.
The second visit was less pleasant. Not one hour after Grandpa left, the Chancellor came knocking at our door. Father was home that day, and was most surprised to see our leader in the living room. The Chancellor seemed alright from what I'd seen and heard from papers and the radio, but he made me feel extremely uncomfortable in my own home. He came in like he owned the place, and demanded to know if Grandpa had been here. He seemed distressed to know he'd visited...and even though we invited him to tea and everything he seemed to snub us...and it was distrusting in a way. He was our leader, he should be more trusting of his people. He seemed to stress the fact that the project Grandpa was working on was top secret. He'd brought his soldiers with him...and though they waited outside, his questions seemed to make them twitch with anticipation, like we were about to be interrogated. Mama and Papa seemed totally clueless and I didn't want to encourage the Chancellor...so I lied. Lying is not something I do often but in this case it seemed to work. He left.
But will he be back...with a different intent?
Sincerely,
Adele
June 20th, 1949:
Dear Diary,
I fear things are escalating to a terrifying plane. Despite knowing the progress the B.R.A.I.N. had taken is incomplete, gathered from what Grandpa has told me, the Chancellor revealed several frightening robots which Grandpa called, automatons. The Chancellor claims these are for mere defense, but Mama disagrees. When she saw me reading about it in the paper, she was quick to take it away from me. Like she was denying they existed. But our house lives close to the edges of the city...and if it was quiet enough at night I could hear them marching around the city.
Grandpa has become nearly lost to us. He's never able to leave his house now...I saw guards surrounding it all day. They even followed me and Mama as we went shopping with Frans in the pram. And if its not the soldiers keeping a grim eye on us...it's the response of the rebels growing in the city. I recognized a few of them from Fair Boulevard, but many are German like me. A pair of them came up to us and threatened Mama...you can say they bit off more than they could chew with that. Mama yelled and gave them the tongue lashing of their lives until they left with their tails in-between their legs! But they have something of the point; when I see the fresh campaign posters of the Chancellor's "progress" campaign, I can't help but scribble out his face like the rest of the Rebels.
Sincerely,
Adele
September 1st, 1949:
Dear Diary,
The worst has happened; only a day after declaring war, Papa has been shipped out. Mama is downstairs crying now...he just left scarcely an hour ago in a deployment truck. I forget whether they're going to stamp out the rebellion in Russia, or whether they're going to keep the peace in France. I never even heard of these problems in the news before. But now that Germany is in a war, the automatons are departing the city one by one to aid in the battles. Some are being made in the factory outside of the city for allies...but mostly for us. Lots of girls are missing from class to help support their families by working in the factory. Mama point-blank refused to have me involved, she's terrified of an industrial accident happening to me like getting my arm caught in one of the machines. I don't see how it could happen; the B.R.A.I.N., or rather the "Fabrication Machine" as the Chancellor calls it, does most of the work. But she needs me in the house to care for Frans.
I too shed tears for Papa. I know he is a strong man with great determination...but even though he's only been gone an hour the house feels empty without him. Frans has been crying all night...and neither Mother nor I have the ability to make him stop. Fortunately, we are assured of Grandpa's safety by a fellow soldier...a friend of Father's. He stated that he is kept under close surveillance until further notice due to his project...but it sounded too much like house arrest. Fortunately, he was very sympathetic when Mama voiced this opinion out loud. He too agrees...and even though he did not say so himself I did find a copy of a rebel poster in our maibox. When I gave it to Mama, she hid it in her jacket. Even now she looks at it with almost a fondness.
Sincerely,
Adele
December 15th, 1949
Dear Diary,
I have done possibly the bravest thing a girl my age can do; I trekked across town.
It is more dangerous now than ever; our ally England has turned against us with our own machines and there is a risk of an air strike. Everyone is too terrified to leave their homes for anything. However, I knew that Grandpa had to be short on supplies by now. He was old, and he was impossible with cooking. So, despite my mother's strict warnings never to leave the house alone, I pulled on my hooded caplet over my coat and took a big basket of food across town to Grandpa. I was frightened the whole way; there had been frightening rumors about patrolling soldiers taking to chasing any girl who was out alone, but I managed to evade detection. Unlike the soldiers, who had seen more of barracks and forts than cities, I knew more secret short-cuts than a street mouse.
Grandpa gave me a long scolding when I arrived; not only were the soldiers and air-strikes dangerous but there were many destitute people not above robbing a young girl with a basket stuffed with food. He seemed nervous about something else...but I didn't push questions. Still, he seemed relieved to see me alive and safe, and ate heartily into the soup I made him there. He told me he'd been ousted from the B.R.A.I.N. project...which gave me the shock of my life. I couldn't help a little happiness though...it meant the Chancellor had less chances to be near him. I didn't like his influence.
While I was able to clean up most of the house, he wouldn't even let me near his work room. In fact, he was careful to keep it bolted and locked tightly. I heard scuffling noises behind it and before leaving suggested he set up some mousetraps so as to catch whatever might be scurrying about back there.
Sincerely,
Adele
April 5th, 1950:
Dear Diary,
Forgive my lack of entries. I'm afraid all my nightmares have come true.
The machines have turned against man-kind. All over the world they wreak carnage and chaos. And to top it all off, the Chancellor has pinned the blame against Grandpa. The machines headed towards our city yesterday, and the day before was when we were sent to the shelters. I am now writing in a crowded, underground facility with many people like me...all of us scared stiff of what may come and what may have already happened to our loved ones fighting against the machines. I cry as I write, for Grandpa, despite my urgent pleas, has refused to come with us. He is now in what is most likely left of the city. The Chancellor shipped out almost all the citizens; save the foreigners and the ones suspected of having joined the rebel cause.
He actually had the nerve to try and comfort me today. Needless to say he was absolutely ghastly; trying to sway my opinions by calling me comrade and offering me the best protection. Although he did this in the privacy of his office at the shelters, I must have yelled loud enough for everyone to hear. I was sick of him, I'd said. He'd used my grandfather enough times so he could spread his wicked violence across the world. He'd not use me the same way. He showed his true colors then. He was furious, shocked, and ordered me to obey him. But unfortunately a soldier walked in at the wrong time he said it...and although he sent me out much quieter there were whispers everywhere. Later I found that the people had slipped me small tokens in regards to my bravery, hiding them in my spare shoes and inside the pockets of my jackets. Mother whispered to me how proud she was...and I must have smiled for the first time in months. My birthday would not have the anticipated celebration, but hearing her say that made me glow with pride.
Later she told me I had truly struck a powerful cord; both with the refugees and the Chancellor. Because of what I had said and how I had chosen to say it, I had inexplicably won a great victory over him. With his power and position, he could have me executed. But it would not only spark an even greater rebellion against him by his citizens, it would also call an outcry with his soldiers. Many of them knew Papa...and they were determined to stand by his daughter. That must have made me the proudest...I was truly living up to being my father's daughter.
July 18th, 1950:
Dear Diary,
While things have become somewhat stale here at the shelters, I have been keeping myself busy with the children here. Ever since I brought my doll Zero with me, the children have been clamoring for adventurous tales of his exploits. I think I may have doomed myself for story-telling for a long time; I didn't really mean too. But they all looked so glum with all the destruction around them, so I brought out Zero and told stories how he'd saved lives and befriended magical creatures of all sizes. I've let them share him, and now they can't stop playing make-believe with Zero, throwing him up in the air to make him fly and maneuvering his little limbs to make him fight fake enemies. The play of the children, and their laughter seems to uplift the spirits of the refugees.
I miss Papa and Grandpa more deeply now than ever. Mama has kept herself fierce, encouraging the other women to find new ways to make soups and food for the refugees; but I sense the loneliness in her too. Frans may be only mildly affected, but he is a child. There isn't much else for him to think about besides playing with the other children. Papa, I fear for dead. It's not uncommon...only a quarter of the troops have survivied thus far, and their main priority is our protection. The Chancellor visits often now, whether the people want him to or not. He looks nervous and unkempt from stress. I can't help but relish in it.
Sincerely,
Adele
November 22nd, 1950:
Dear Diary,
I'm afraid that this must be my last entry. Ink has stopped coming in, and I am using the very last bottle. There is a vicious fight going on outside as we speak, a pair of automatons versus several of our men, armed with grenades, guns, and bombs. I fear we al may very well perish here...but so far it is made to appear empty. In any case, the machines are too large to get inside. The children are too frightened to play now; all the families are gathered together in what they fear may be their last hour.
As of recent, I am more fearful of an iron door. Strange to fear such things...but I have seen both people and animals go past that door and never come out. What I fear is a suicide...and attempt to save others from the wrath of the machines. Right now a pair of soldiers are waiting for me. They say it is merely going to be a medical examination...but I fear that iron door and it's green glow. I don't want to die!
Grandpa...should you find this diary, I beg of you to return. I have put this in the hands of the Chancellor, who has sworn to pass it on to you. Although I have distrusted and insulted him...I find reason to trust him now. He seems sincerely desperate for some way to cleanse himself of guilt, which I see him burdened with everyday. He snaps at his soldiers and has a hand on his gun at all times. But he dares not enter my room with it...he seems to fear me the most. I pray that the Chancellor may make it to you in time to tell you how much I love you; you, Mama, Papa, and Frans. I always have, you know this. I look back on fond pages and remember my birthdays and holidays with you...how you bound together the very pages of my diary. I remember Zero, who was my companion as a lonely child. I remember when we celebrated with the Americans, and how we thought our winters blew the coldest in the world. Our days of early summer, our secret dangers we encountered. I never regret taking you that basket of food that cold night where you had to be a fool to do it. I will never regret any embrace or kind word I gave you. You truly deserved it. Truly.
My inkwell is dry. The soldiers are waiting.
Farewell,
Adele
______
End Note: Yay or nay? I've always wanted to do a diary-like fanfic and this seemed to fit in. Brownie points if you can spot where the hinting of the stitchpunks comes in!