August 23rd, 1920
The manor has proven to be quite homely for me. I am astounded by such vastness, and entranced by its beauty. Mesmerizing, truly. I hold within these walls a great sense of duty towards its survival. I have officially become responsible for its upkeep, and I can say that in no sense does it come without burden.
On a much queerer note... This morning I found Maria's portrait cocked to the side, with the helmet statue knocked over onto the floor in between the staircases in the lobby. Upon closer inspection, I have managed to find small hand prints on the corner of the portrait.. as if someone had tilted it. Strange considering I am the only resident within these walls. Upon my search of the mansion I have confirmed this.
Her stare is an oddity. It pierces me. I feel uneasy whenever I pass by it, averting her gaze every time. Though I wish to take it down.. tradition denies me so. I suppose it is fitting for her, considering her character wasn't the most upstanding. She was known for her racism towards the negros, so grandfather used to tell me. She was one to drink, and with drink came rather...repugnant activity. One could say she dawdled in...degeneracy.
Repugnant.
Several noises are coming from the kitchen, especially at night. The sounds of footsteps can be heard.. boots. That is what it sounds like to me. I could be wrong, as this mansion is extravagant, and has many rooms that are unoccupied. Though... I cannot help but bear this feeling of trepidation towards these strange events.
Addition:
At 12:00 pm... The freezer door opened by itself. Upon closer inspection, I found my newly bought meat to be rotten. Very strange... I will not be buying my groceries from the market in town any more.
