1 November 1611
Today was All Saints' Day! Mother and I went into the village because it was a holiday and she wanted to see all her friends again. And I got stuck with those giggly girls from the center of town. "Hi, girls," Joan said. "So, I think I'm going to try to court Henry. The tall one." (She's eighteen, so she'll be getting married quite soon.)
"He's so handsome," Mary said in a dreamy sort of voice. Then she switched to almost businesslike. "How're you going to manage that?"
"It's easy. I'll pretend to court some other man to make him jealous."
"He's definitely looking at you. All you've gotta do is find someone else who'll fall for you," Elizabeth said.
"How about him?" Mary said. "The short one." They were pointing at Sigmun.
"Oh, just right. And see how he's looking over here too? Definitely looking at you," Elizabeth encouraged. I didn't bother to point out that he was "kind of short" yesterday.
"Either me or Dianna," Joan said.
"Of course it's you!" Mary insisted. I made eye contact with Sigmun, blinked, and looked away. Joan's far prettier than me; he'd never choose me over her.
"You're a heartbreaker anyways, Joan," Elizabeth said. "Just act like you do and he'll fall head-over-heels for you."
"Alright," Joan said. She set her shoulders back. "Wish me luck!" She marched over to Sigmun and I know it's awful but I was green-eyed with jealousy! Girls like her, who can just walk up to a man and make him like you, just remind me how flawed and hopeless I am.
"Don't you think it's kind of cruel to deceive a man like that?" I asked Mary and Elizabeth. I think it sounds simply awful. Anyways, I don't want to see Sigmun's heart break. I hate seeing him in pain.
"I think it's fine. It's more important to marry a man with money, anyways," Elizabeth said.
They started gossiping about some girl named Frances I've never met and I turned to Sigmun and Joan. She was being very flirty, all hips and hands. But he was stepping away, and he looked kind of alienated. He held up his hands like he was trying to fend her off and she looked quite offended, then stormed back to us.
"What happened?"
"He told me that he was courting another girl!" Joan hissed angrily. I think she was more upset that she was rejected than anything else because she's never rejected. I'm sure he wasn't lying, because he doesn't lie. I wonder who the other girl is? You'd think I'd know. It'd be obvious, really. He doesn't do anything halfway. He'd be giving her flowers and doing nice things for her like that. Who could it be?
After all that, that Henry boy came over and started talking to (of all people) me. I don't know why, either. Anyways, I just talked to him like I would anyone else.
"Hey there. Don't see around much."
"I'm not in the village much."
"That's too bad. Dianna, right?"
"Mm-hmm. And you're Henry, right?"
"I sure am. How come a pretty girl like you doesn't spend more time in the village?"
"I spend my time in the forest, or reading."
"Oh, you can read?"
"Of course. Can't you?"
"I can read a few very important things."
"Like what?"
"Oh, like, for example…body language."
"Can't we all?" I could tell he was flirting with me, I could hear it in that voice and see it in his gaze that entirely failed to meet my eyes (and rested elsewhere, like my chest), and I didn't like it.
"Well, I know what your body language is telling me."
"That I'd rather be somewhere else?" I said. Because I wanted to be in the woods, or at Dolora and Sigmun's, or at least somewhere else. Somewhere away from him, because I was trying to tell him to go away without being rude and he wasn't getting it. I suppose flirting is alright, but not when one person is trying to tell the other to leave.
"Like where?" Did he have to keep persisting?
"My best friend's house. Maybe the forest." Might as well be honest.
"Who's your best friend? Is it me?"
"No. My best friends are Sigmun and Simonn."
"Boys?"
"Yeah. What about you?" I thought I might try for polite conversation.
"I think I've found a new best friend."
"Who's that?"
"A very pretty girl."
"Who? Joan?" Well, it couldn't be me.
At that point, he rolled his eyes and said, "Never mind." I guess he got the hint. I just didn't want to be rude, but I also wanted him to stop giving me that awful look like I was a particularly succulent turkey. I don't like it.
He left and Joan gave me a withering glare. I guess she was mad he was flirting me. I was a little afraid, to be honest. Joan can be pretty scary when she wants to be. Why are so many of the village girls so strange this way?
At any rate, I finally escaped them all much later to spend my time with Sigmun and Simonn. We ate sweets and played horseshoes and sang silly songs and laughed. I love holidays with my friends. There's this sort of belonging I get with them that I don't really feel anywhere else. I just feel sort of welcomed.
I'm actually writing this at Sigmun's because I couldn't find Mother and Dolora invited Simonn and Neolla and Mariek and Hannah and Sumner and I for dinner and that was really quite fun. I remembered to keep this journal in my purse because I keep pressed flowers in it and I wanted to have some to give to the little ones who run around looking for sweets (which I can't afford). It's rather late and most of the others have left, but Simonn and I are staying a bit later. I hope Mother doesn't get upset.
2 November 1611
I stayed over at Sigmun's because it was late and dark when I planned to head home. Mother's going to kill me when she gets home from running errands. Oh well.
Anyways, I was asleep on the couch like always and I had a nightmare. I dreamed that all my friends were dying and every time I reached for them to try to save them, they screamed louder. I suppose I was thrashing around (I either thrash or get paralyzed when I have a nightmare), because I felt someone shaking me awake.
"Dianna? Dianna? Are you okay?" It was Sigmun. "Do you have a fever or something? Should I get Mama?"
"Just a nightmare…" I breathed. I couldn't manage much more.
"Oh." He kind of shifted awkwardly. "Anything I can do?"
I don't know where I found the courage to say this (probably exhaustion), but I said, "Just…stay here. Please."
"Okay." He pulled up a chair and he held my hand and he started stroking my hair and I wish I could fall asleep like this every night. I'd never have another nightmare. It felt so good just to feel his hand on my hair because he was so gentle and that warm grip on my hand just…I can't describe it. And I heard him talking to me, though I'm not really sure what he said. Except I thought I heard, "Go to sleep. I'll guard your dreams." Maybe I was dreaming. And…I also thought I felt him press his lips to my forehead, just once, like when he gives me flowers and I kiss him on the cheek, but maybe I was imagining it.
I woke up in the morning and he was still holding my hand. He was sort of leaning back in his chair, sleeping actually.
"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." That would be Simonn, sarcastic as ever. He smirked and added, "It's nearly eight."
I kind of panicked because I really had to get home. Dolora called us to come to breakfast and she had that knowing smile on her face. What is it that she knows? So I shook Sigmun awake and we ate breakfast and we went to the market because it still feels like a holiday and I wish his hand brushing mine was on purpose but I know it wasn't. It can't be.
3 November 1611
Mother was very mad at me today (she was sort of drunk last night and she didn't recognize me. Again). She slapped me and shouted for a while until I could escape to my room. She said I was irresponsible and a horrible daughter and some other stuff I don't remember. I wish she wouldn't say things like that, but she's probably right.
I really don't know why Simonn always laughs when Sigmun brings me whatever smattering of winter flowers he's managed to find (still, every day!). Plenty of winter flowers grow around here. Well, a few. Okay, almost none, but he still finds some every day and I don't know how he manages it. I think it's very romantic and sweet and I'm blushing even writing about him. And I can't stop thinking about how he was so kind when I was having a nightmare…my nightmares can be pretty horrific sometimes, and that one was one of the worst. Why did he do that for me? He's my friend, of course, but he was holding my hand and stroking my hair and that seems like something he does in my imagination. And he sounded so worried, like I might actually have a fever. Not to mention kissing my forehead and telling me he'd guard my dreams! If I was observing me, I think I'd tell me that he loved me (that was a strange sort of sentence). But I'm not observing me, I am me, and I know that no one will ever love me the way I love Sigmun, especially him. I'm just not the sort of girl who has a love who loves her back.
We went outside today, all bundled up, and to the river. It's starting to freeze and it was such a sight! The river's current is so fast that it's never quite safe to cross on the ice, but over the eddy it freezes pretty much solid and we can slide around. I can't wait for winter!
5 November 1611
I was so busy yesterday that I didn't write at all! Days like that irritate me to no end. I love movement, and I love being outside, and I love doing things; I don't like sitting still. I never have. But I enjoy sitting down after a long day and pouring out my thoughts someplace private where I can sort out my tangle of conflicting desires. I want Mother to love me, but I want to be myself and keep my friends. I want to believe my friends but I do believe Mother. Who knows what's going on in my head these days?
Anyways, today was just a normal day. Exploring the woods (though there's not much left to explore!), reading some books, napping by the fire (though that's just me), eating dinner with Mother while she nags endlessly and I remain silent. Now all I have to do is fall asleep and hope my dreams don't make a lick of sense tonight.
6 November 1611
Luckily for me I dreamed about pieces of paper and pens dancing to music and then carrots having debates with onions over whether or not shirts ought to be sold from clouds. I much prefer dreams like this because I'm sick of feeling guilty and ashamed and I hate being afraid. I wish I could fall asleep every night like I did when Sigmun was holding my hand. To feel his hands, warm and gentle and dexterous and delicate, against my own tired skin, or to hear him whispering kind things to me; I think that would be just the best thing in the world.
I can feel Mother's stress building because Father should be coming home in a bit longer than two weeks. I don't know what to think about this because I do not love Mother, no matter how I think of it, but I also feel bad for her because her love never bothers to come home. I wonder if she knows as well as I do that he is not faithful to her? I need no evidence beyond the scraps of paper he leaves behind with calligraphied names on them and the behavior that so mirrors that of the men in the village who wrap their arms around me and call me "sugar". It's almost painful how obvious this is and I don't want Mother to know it, but I'm sure she does. How odd it is that I want happiness for Mother while I also can't stand to be in the same house as her.
Today I decided to be especially stupid while I was reading a French book to Simonn and Sigmun. I could tell Sigmun was dozing off, so I threw the book and said, "Catch!" He started awake but didn't catch the book; instead, it landed on the floor next to him (I planned it that way) and he jumped. "That wasn't fair!"
"You shouldn't go falling asleep when you're learning French!"
"But verb conjugations are no fun."
"The subjunctive is just when it get interesting!" (So I was kind of teasing him at this point…)
"Hey!"
"You shouldn't wake me up when we're reading about Marathon or whatever it was." (Because I didn't want him to know I'd gone over that moment twenty times at least in my head.) "Okay, maybe that was unfair, but still…"
"Alright, alright." (He was sort of backing down like he does.) "So are you going to keep informing us of the many ways to conjugate être? I'm so fascinated!"
"Shut up!" (I was teasing.)
"Well I actually am interested, so will you two stop flirting so we can get on with it?" Simonn snapped. He's been snappish and I think it's because his mother's pregnancy is making his family more ignorant of him than ever. (Also, his parents told him he doesn't have to go to church on Sundays a few weeks ago, so he goes to Sigmun and Dolora's instead. I've heard church can be very boring.) But the flirting comment made me flush a horrible shade of red, so I hid behind the book and let Sigmun answer.
"As if!"
"As if what?"
"Just let her keep reading, jeez."
"Right." (Simonn rolled his eyes and leaned against one of the bookshelves. I was in a chair, Sigmun was leaning against the couch, and Dolora was sitting in her rocking chair.) "Read on."
At any rate, I doubt I'll remember a word of that book by tomorrow. And I'd swear there's something Simonn and Dolora both know that I don't and I wish I knew what it was! I don't like not knowing. I'm always the odd one out and I'd rather not feel that way within my own group of best friends.
8 November 1611
Mother's tension just means she sends me on more errands. Food, fabric, needles, soap (whoops), whatever she can think of. It cuts into the time I can spend with my friends and makes me irritated because the amount of unused things sitting around the house grows like garlic mustard. I hate all the clutter.
But if this time is anything like every other time before, it'll die down in a week and Mother will switch to nagging me about how I dress and how I do my hair and how I walk or whatever it is this time. I'm tempted to hem one of my skirts to the knee just to annoy her.
It was freezing out today and I forgot my cloak. Dolora crossed her arms and smiled at me, half-amused and half-reprimanding. It's a look I got a lot more from her when I was a clumsy twelve-year-old. I don't drop things so much anymore, or so I'd like to think. Mother calls me clumsy sometimes, but not enough for me to know it to be true. Dolora can always tell when something's wrong and she made me a cup of tea with honey in it and when I tried to tell her that I was fine and she didn't have to, she just gave another one of those looks and I took the tea.
"Tea?" Simonn asked me. "What's wrong?"
"Mother. She's been stressed because…just because," I really don't like talking about my father.
"Right. I'll pretend I believe that," Simonn said sarcastically.
"I don't want to talk about, okay? I don't like talking about everything, jeez."
Simonn held up his hands and rolled his eyes. "Why're you being so defensive? I just asked."
"Never mind," I said. "What say we read something on science today."
"Fine by me," Simonn said, picking up one of the books he always reads from, but not the physics one. Sigmun sat next to me, closer than he normally does, and he threaded his fingers through mine and squeezed once before letting go and moving to sprawl on the couch. I know he knew something was up, but he doesn't usually call it out like Simonn or I. Simonn acts all sarcastic and callous, but he cares. He just shows it differently. And I always call it because I know my friends don't like talking about things and I can understand that, but sometimes they really have to.
At any rate, we read up on chemistry today and I found it rather interesting, actually. It's not like physics, which is just not something I can grasp, and it's not like biology, which is kind of disgusting. I don't like drawings of dead thing's insides. Call me mad.
Oh, and I found a nice hair ribbon in the market today I'd like. I think I'll ask Mother, because I could to with something to keep my hair out of my face.
9 November 1611
Mother said I could get it! I never thought she'd do anything nice for me, but maybe it's just that I actually need this particular item. My hair always falls in my hair and once, when I was cooking, the ends caught on fire. That was especially terrifying.
We studied some romance book Sigmun pretended not to like today. I really ought to tell him Simonn and I know, because he always gets so flustered about those books! Although I find him very charming when he's flustered, I think I should tell him.
10 November 1611
More errands. I hope this dies down soon so I can put the house back in order and get back to spending my time with my friends, instead of running all these useless errands. I hate going to the market alone because there's always at least one man who's drunk enough or desperate enough to try to flirt with me. I hate it because I don't care what Mother says about men having rights to this, I feel that it's wrong. It just feels wrong. I think that I should be allowed to choose who touches me! Is that really too much to ask for?
At any rate, it happened again today and I did what I always do, which is bite my lip and walk away. I know speaking up won't get me anything. It never has. No one listens to a woman, no matter how clever or right. I learned that from Mother. Sigmun gets very worked up over things like this. Once I talked about the time I saw a man yelling at a woman who was presumably his wife and when she spoke back, he slapped her. I think that was wrong, so I told Sigmun and Simonn, and Sigmun got very upset. He said it was so wrong, this was all so wrong, why could no one see it. I almost wish he wouldn't; he worries me. But he's right; something must change. It's anyone's guess what.
11 November 1611
11/11/11 today. Isn't that supposed to be good luck? I certainly hope so. I saw a shooting star and I wished on it today. Does writing down your wish count as telling someone? No one else will ever read these words (I hope), so maybe not? But I won't, just to be safe.
We read some French today and I'm happy because I love languages. So far, I speak English , Spanish, Italian, and Latin fluently (well, Latin decently. Sigmun's best at Latin). I want to speak French and German and Russian and all those other beautiful languages too! How can anyone stand to just speak one language?
I have a feeling that something is bothering Sigmun. Every time I see him, he's always glancing over at me and it makes me feel rather self-conscious because what is it? Do I have something in my teeth? Is there a spider on my arm? (That happened once. Luckily, all the books survived.) What is it?
I always thought Mariek was joking about boys being "an enigma worth the greatest of pirates", because Sigmun and Simonn have always been pretty transparent to me. But here I am, utterly unsure of what he's thinking. At least Simonn's still pretty obvious.
12 November 1611
Simonn didn't come today; I think one of his siblings must be sick or injured again. Simonn's family always comes to Dolora for healing, but Dolora was out today (as usual), so I don't know.
Dolora being out isn't like Father being out. Dolora goes out, does her work, and comes home every day to make dinner and she still manages to be teacher for us. And she sews all her clothes (Sigmun's too), keeps her garden, and reads every book she can find. I want to be like Dolora when I'm older; she's amazing.
Anyways, Sigmun and I went to the river, because it was especially cold today and sliding on ice is fun. Nothing but our little eddy was frozen over, but that was enough to slide around on without falling in. Except once, I got kind of close to the edge and he grabbed my hand to pull me back and his hand was warm and strong and exciting. Everything about him excites me. He grinned and pulled me towards him and I spun around like crazy until he caught me and said, "You'll fall in, you know."
"I'm fine, Sigmun."
"Just don't fall in, alright? I mean, I'd have to dive in to get you!"
"You wouldn't! I could pull myself out of the river just fine."
"Well, if I fell in, I wouldn't mind you rescuing me."
"You'd probably drown before I could get to you."
"Maybe so. But what if you bumped your head or something? What then, Deedee?"
"Shut up! Siggy!"
"You shut up!"
"Well, you could try letting me go, first of all."
"Oh. Uh…right." I guess he forgot he was holding me. I didn't really mean it, though. His arms were so nice to be in. He was holding me around the middle, with his hands interlaced behind my back. I was sort of leaning back, so my hips were pressed against his. But my head wasn't close enough to his for me to dare to kiss his nose. He let go of me and I didn't fall (I can stand on my own, for heaven's sake), but I was kind of disappointed. It really was very nice to be held by him. Is it really so bad that I liked the feeling of his arms around me? I wonder if he liked holding me, if he liked that my hips were pressed against his and that our legs were all tangled up together. Maybe he more just felt like he'd helped me. I mean…I don't think he'd love me the way I love him. I'm just not that lucky.
I might as well relish what little I can get. The accidental hand brushes, the times he'll hold me just for safety, if he ever kisses me just because I'm the only girl around to kiss. I'll never get anything better than that, and I know it. Why bother pretending? I'm just not that sort of girl and I'm not that lucky. Anyways, he could have any girl he wants. Why would he choose me?
Mother gave me a lecture on what I should look for in a suitor today. It was basically someone who'll own me properly. Well, I don't want to be owned and I don't want a man like that anyway. Heaven forbid a woman own herself!
I'm getting worked up again and I really should just go to bed. I'm quite tired and when I get worked up like this, I feel like yelling or throwing something. I feel like fighting. I feel like I need to fight for what I feel must be right. And even though Mother says it's wrong, I feel like it's not and I get very upset.
I'm going to go to bed now. I hope I can figure something out by tomorrow.
13 November 1611
Simonn is such a kind friend! I feel like a horrible friend compared to him. He's so kind about listening and everything. Mostly because today, I really needed to talk to someone about Sigmun and Simonn said he'd listen. So I kind of blurted everything, including me over analyzing every single thing he does. Except the dreams. Those are personal.
"No offense…but you sound like a lovesick twelve-year-old."
"Shut up!"
"You do, though. You're obsessing."
"I just think he's really sweet and really smart and funny and handsome!"
"Obsessing." He drew out the word and I know it was frustrate me.
"Shut up!"
"Look, you could keep obsessing. Or you could just tell him. You know, like a normal person?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because he doesn't like me back! Do I look like I was born yesterday?"
"Yes, you look like an infant." He's so sarcastic. "Dianna. I know I'm not exactly a romantic genius, but I think you should just tell him."
"I can't, though! I try to and I can't!"
"Yes you can. Just go up to him and kiss him."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"I physically cannot!"
"It's psychological!"
"It would be humiliating!"
"So is this conversation!"
"What do you mean?"
"I am trying to give you, one of my best friends, advice on how to kiss my other best friend, you think maybe that feels a bit weird?"
"Fair point."
"Exactly."
"Look. I don't know anything beyond what you've told me, but I think if you told Sigmun, you'd be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"I don't give advice unless I'm sure. What sort of friend do you think I am?"
"Thanks, Simonn."
"Any time."
"That reminds me…Hannah?"
"Shut up!"
"If you're going to tell me to just go up to him and kiss him—"
"Hi guys!" Sigmun interrupted. "What's going on? Who's kissing who?"
"I'm trying to talk sense into Simonn," I said.
"Excuse me, I was trying to talk sense into you!"
"I am perfectly sensible!"
"What is this about?" Sigmun interrupted. I stomped on Simonn's foot before he could say anything and said, "Simonn won't listen to me about just giving Hannah some flowers."
"I agree with Dianna! Just get her flowers, Simonn. Otherwise you're a hypocrite!"
"Am not!"
"You are!" (I'm not sure what Simonn would be hypocritical about.)
"I just…I can't. Can you guys please drop it?"
"Okay, fine," I said. I could tell he was actually getting upset and there's nothing nice about making someone you care about upset, so I dropped it. "C'mon. The eddy froze over; let's go skating."
"Fine by me!" Sigmun grinned. His hair bounced as he did and it was very charming. "Well, come on! It'll be dark by the time we get there at this rate!"
We skated around till late, then Simonn and I went home. I thought I caught Sigmun staring at me, but I'm probably wishing it into existence. I could also feel Simonn rolling his eyes at me, but I just gave him my most withering glare. I'm good at that.
Oh, and Mother tried to talk me into meeting this other man, George or something. Maybe she's given up on Patrik? I still don't want to marry him, whoever he is. Heaven forbid I choose who I marry.
15 November 1611
Today Simonn and I had to look for Sigmun, because Dolora said he was in the house somewhere but she didn't know where. Simonn checked his bedroom while I looked around the living room. I checked behind one of the bookshelves, and he was wedged between it and wall with one of the books of romance poetry. He was reading it just like he reads Latin to himself: mouthing the words as his eyes speed over them, taking in everything.
"Sigmun?"
He jumped about a mile in the air and slammed the book shut, trying to hide it behind his back. "H-Hi, Dianna!"
"What're you reading?" I teased.
"Just…some poetry! Good poetry. Because it's good literature…"
"Can I see?"
"N-No!"
"I've read all the romance books, too, Sigmun."
He blushed a painful-looking color of red. "You know about that?"
"We both do," Simonn said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. "It's fine, Siggy."
"I read them, too," I affirmed. "It's fine."
"I don't read them, but I don't really care, either."
"Okay. I guess that's not too bad. But…uh…would you mind not telling anyone else?"
"Jeez, what sort of jerk do you think I am?" Simonn said, rolling his eyes.
"I wouldn't tell," I said, rolling my eyes at Simonn. "Come on, let's read some other book of poetry."
"I call choosing," Simonn said. "If you guys choose, we'll end up with one of the bodice-rippers."
"What?!" Sigmun kind of shouted. His whole face was scarlet still and that didn't help.
"S'what my mother calls them. The ones with the damsels in distress on the cover and the shirtless guys. I dunno, I think damsels in distress are boring."
"They are. But I'm a sucker for that sort of romance," I grinned. Sigmun was still red as a rose all over, but I thought I saw him nod.
16 November 1611
Mother gave me a new dress she sewed today. I was rather happy, except that once I put it on, it was ill-fitting (she must've guessed at my measurements) and it outlined everything she doesn't like about me. The sleeves were too my wrist and tight, and the collar was up to my neck and also tight. Not to mention itchy. The waist was too small and the skirt too long. And the top was too big around my chest, which was just awful because I feel really guilty for growing that way and I wish I wouldn't. Is it odd to wish your own feelings away? I have a feeling I shouldn't have to, but I do anyways.
Well, at any rate, I took the dress to my room and altered it to fit because I quite like the fabric. I was tempted to hem it up to my knee, but that might've been a bad idea. I just cut the sleeves to be cap sleeves and the neckline to be more comfortable. I took the waist out a bit and hemmed up the skirt to my ankles. And I did fix the top so it fit properly, because I actually do have a chest and I'd rather my dresses fit it. I only wear dresses sometimes, anyways; usually, I prefer shirts and skirts, only because they're easier to wash and to wear and my bodice still fits over them.
We practiced French today by saying random stuff to each other out loud, with Dolora correcting sometimes (because French is her second language). We've been studying French for about a year now, and I think we're close to knowing it well enough to move on. The idea is to learn enough of lots of language to get by in another country. My goal is to be fluent in all the languages we learn. My friends might be able to get by, but I want to be fluent!
As it turns out, Sigmun can tell me that he lost the glasses that he doesn't wear and that he needs to find his way to the mill in French. Simonn can ask for directions to the local pastry shop (pâtisserie) and tell me he likes to read physics books. Honestly, I think I'm probably the best at French. That's yet another thing Mother wouldn't approve of.
Oh, one more thing about today: we were sitting around and I was about to go home because it was close to dinner when Sigmun tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Dianna? Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah, sure."
"So…uh…"
"What is it?" I didn't have much time to get home before it got dark and I'd have to stay (which I didn't want to do because I left my journal at home), or it would still be light but when I got home, Mother would kill me.
"I was just wondering…"
"Yes?" I was getting kind of nervous and I don't know why.
"Uh…do you…um…I really…I really l-li—"
"Sigmun! Can you get me the aloe?" Dolora called suddenly
"Uh…yes, Mama!" he called. "Uh…never mind."
"Alright. See you tomorrow!"
"See you," he said. I wonder what that was all about?
17 November 1611
I was early again today. I feel awful again, but I heard them talking. This time, it actually was an accident. Anyways, here's the conversation.
"You were too afraid?!"
"Shut up! Have you ever had a huge confession hanging over your head while there's a gorgeous girl staring at you and you know you're about to throw away every single positive emotion you've ever harbored? It's a lot of pressure to put on someone!"
"You said you would! You swore you would!"
"I was under a lot of pressure! Do you have any idea what a girl that sort of eyes can do to you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Have you ever tried to think when she's looking at you with those eyes?"
"Yes, and I don't find it all that hard!"
"You have no idea what it's really like! I can't even think when she's looking at me! And when she talks…I get so tongue-tied that I think I might never speak again!"
"You're so lovesick. Just tell her!"
"I can't, okay? I can't."
"Okay, you won't listen to me? Alright, who else would give my exact advice?"
"I dunno. Try nobody?" I have sarcastic best friends.
"Dolora would! Remember I came here way early last week and you were moping around and Dolora told you that you should 'make sure that you're not concealing anything from anyone who's very important to you'?"
"That…that's different!"
"And Sumner! Didn't he tell you that the best thing to do is always just tell the girl?"
"Maybe he did, but he's all confident and stuff!"
"Neolla! She laughed her head off at you and then she told you that you should just tell her! Everyone agrees with me!"
"I'm not brave enough to do something that stupid!"
"Look. Do you just want me to tell her? Because I can actually think when 'she's looking at me with those eyes'."
"Shut up!" There was a pause. "I'll tell her myself."
"When?"
"When I'm ready!"
"Also see: never."
"Look, it's just really hard, okay? It's really hard to talk when she's giving me that curious little look and she's got those big eyes and that gorgeous smile and…it's really hard!"
"You think I don't know what that's like? I'm serious, you have absolutely nothing to lose if you tell her."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do!"
"So I should just tell her?"
"Yes!"
"Thank you for the advice even though it's kind of useless!"
"You're welcome!"
I sighed and looked up. "Are they shouting about something or other again?" Dolora asked rhetorically. She was gathering up her medical things before leaving.
"Mm-hmm."
"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you yelled at them a bit."
"Yeah…I think I'll go do that."
"Alright. Tell Sigmun dinner is at seven."
"Okay, Dolora."
"Now, don't go outside today. It's far too cold as it is and the wind's coming from the north. And there's a new book on the table on German history if you're interested."
"Thanks, Dolora."
"Any time, Dianna dear. Now go on, I'm sure they're about to start shouting again soon."
I smiled and jogged upstairs, where Sigmun and Simonn were sitting in Sigmun's room. "Hey guys!"
"Hey, Dianna."
"Hi, Deedee." Simonn said.
"I'm not letting it get to me…Simmie!"
"I hate you."
"Yeah right."
"Hey, guys?" Sigmun said. "Dolora got a new book on German history today, wanna read it?"
"Yeah, sure," Simonn said.
So we got started on that book and I'm left to wonder who on Earth that girl is who Sigmun gets all tongue-tied around. I thought it was Neolla, but I'm not sure now. She always wears these strange tinted glasses because they distract from her feminine features and she's been practicing for Yangsley's, so the whole thing about her eyes doesn't make sense. Anyways, she never looks curious. Who could it be? Who could possibly be that lucky, to have his heart?
I sound like Joan or Elizabeth or Mary. I said I wouldn't do this! I swore I wouldn't! Oh, fabulous, here I am again, wishing away my own feelings. Is there nothing that'll make my emotions feel like the right ones?
18 November 1611
I seem to have misplaced my hair ribbon again. I always lose my hair ribbons, which is annoying mostly because I need to keep my hair out of my face. I have very thick, very messy hair and it's hard to keep it from falling into my eyes. Though I prefer it that way when I walk around the village, I'd rather be able to see when I'm hiking or picking berries or reading.
It was very, very cold today, but it didn't snow. The sky was gray, the color of fabric with no dye added, but no snow. There was some rain, but late at night, after Mother went to bed and I was sitting up with a candle and writing. That's not important, though.
We stayed inside today and we all sat really close to the fire to keep warm. Dolora wasn't home at all and Sigmun said one of the women in the village was giving birth and Dolora wouldn't be home for a while. So I asked if he was alright for dinner and everything and he looked at me all funny and said, "I can cook, thank you very much."
"I'm just making sure you're okay."
"Thanks. I'm fine."
"Good."
Simonn rolled his eyes. "We can both sew and cook and stuff, Dianna. I can operate competently in the world."
"I worry about my friends, like a nice person."
"Well, you don't have to worry about me," Sigmun said. "I can cook my own dinner."
"Me too," Simonn said. "And I can sew my own clothes."
"I can, too," Sigmun said. "And knit, and do needlepoint."
"You can do needlepoint?" Simonn asked.
"Yeah."
"So can I," I added.
"I'm not coordinated enough for that."
"I could try to teach you."
"No thanks. I don't like poking my fingers with needles."
"Fair point." I don't like needlepoint either.
"So…the point is that I can take care of myself when Mama is in town. I have since I was little," Sigmun said. "Anyways, I'll just make some stew or something. D'you guys want to stay?"
"Sure," I said.
"Sounds good to me," Simonn said.
So we stayed for dinner and it turns out Sigmun can cook pretty well. I guess baking is just our collective weak spot. I wonder if other people would think it's odd that my friends who are boys can cook and sew and knit and stuff. I think it's good. I mean, I think it's important for women and men to be able to sew and everything, just for the sake of supporting oneself before getting married. Anyways, if I were married, I wouldn't do all the cooking and sewing and household chores, anymore than he would do all the money-making work. I know Sigmun wouldn't be a husband who would do all the money making or make me do all the cooking; I mean, he just felt the need to prove to us that he could cook and bragged about being able to sew. He'd be nicer than that.
20 November 1611
Mother started nagging today, even more than usual. It was about my hair. I can quote exactly what she said.
"Your hair is getting too long and too messy and you don't even take the time to brush it out anymore. How are you supposed to get married when you don't even brush your hair? How can you take care of a man when you can't take care of yourself? And do you ever even think about cutting it, at least some? You look like a prostitute with your hair like that! Not to mention that it's ugly, that awful brown color. You could let me dye it, you know. Maybe make you a bit more marriable."
"Mother, I like my hair." That is, my hair is the only part of me I don't mind.
"You shouldn't. It's awful. You really need to do something about it. Try smoothing it or cutting it or thinning it; I could use hair thinner."
"Mother, that burns like fire!" It doesn't even work. I asked Dolora, to be sure, and she said it was a scam.
"Doesn't matter. If you're going to find an acceptable husband, you better fix yourself up. Even if I could arrange a marriage with Patrik, he wouldn't want to marry you because you're so ugly and unfeminine and clumsy and outspoken and disobedient! At least let me fix your hair!"
I gave up after that. Mother kept talking, but I tuned her out and let her lecture on. I know what she said and she's right; why does she have to keep saying it?
21 November 1611
Funny thing today. I heard only a few sentences of Sigmun and Simonn's conversation when they were in the kitchen for a few seconds.
"Look. Why do you want to tell her?"
"Because she thinks no one loves her!"
"Well, that's dumb. We obviously care about her."
"That's not the point. You've heard the way her mother talks to her. I'd think no one loves me either! I just want her to know someone loves her."
"Then does it matter if she loves you back or not?"
"I guess not…"
"Then tell her, for heaven's sake!"
"I'm just scared she won't want to be friends anymore!"
"Are you stupid?! Of course she will!"
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Okay? I just do."
I still don't know who this girl is he's talking about. I don't know anyone who feels completely unloved. Well, I feel unloved, but then I am unloved. No, I'm unlovable. I also don't know who he'd be worried about losing. I think it'd be crazy to stop being friends with someone for any reason unless they were a bad person or you just couldn't stand them to the point where you felt bad. Or if it's a friendship that's just making you miserable. I mean, why do anything that makes you miserable?
22 November 1611
I have never wanted children as much as I do right now. Apparently the woman and the child both lived (the woman who gave birth a few days ago), because I saw them both walking around the village. The little one (I think it was a boy) was such a cute little thing. I just…I really want children. I know that that's something women are supposed to do, but outside of what I'm supposed to want, I want children. I think I always have. I want love, and I want to have children, and I like to sew, and there are other feminine things I want and like. But there are also things I like and want that women aren't supposed to like and want. I don't know.
Well, anyways, it was rather warm today, so we put on our cloaks and went outside to walk around. It was a lovely day and I'm absolutely positive that Sigmun's hand brushed mine more than once and I felt him almost take my hand. Why is he doing this? Is he teasing me? What if he knows how I feel and he's messing with my head? I don't think he'd do something that mean, but…he's a boy and I don't quite know how boys decide what seems mean (it appears rather arbitrary to me). Maybe he thinks it's a joke? I think if that were true, my heart would break. I don't treat romance as a joke as a rule and I'm scared that he doesn't know that. Do boys think about breaking hearts? Some women certainly don't and now I'm worried he's going to break my heart for fun.
No, I shouldn't be thinking about this. He's nice! I've known him since we were little. He wouldn't do something like that.
Would he?
23 November 1611
What a day. I got my bleeding today and that wouldn't be a problem only it started while I was at Sigmun's. Considering that it's been happening for a few months now (I started just normal, at least compared to my friends), I suppose I'm lucky this hasn't happened before. We were sitting around the fire and I just suddenly felt like someone was stabbing my stomach and I kind of screamed.
"OH FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE I AM GOING TO STAB SOMETHING!"
"Uh…Dianna?" Sigmun asked, and he sounded a little scared. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I said testily. I was very irritated. Simonn just looked rather scared and unnerved.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Hold on a second." I went to find Dolora (she was out of the room) because I needed another woman to help me out. Dolora smiled understandingly and said, "That was you yelling? I know how you feel." One of these days I'll have to explain to them why this happens and I think that will be the most awkward day of my life. Maybe Dolora will instead, because I think I might not be able to do that.
"Would you like some pain medicine, Dianna dear?"
"Yes please." I made a few absorbent things out of old linens Mother never noticed I took. She'd be so mad if she knew I'd started my bleeding. I don't know what's wrong with it; every single woman and girl I know who's older than eighteen has their bleeding. (Except pregnant women and a few who just start late.) I don't know why Mother thinks it's so wrong. I can't do anything about it except take whatever mix of herbs Dolora sells to women in the village (it's how she makes a good deal of her money) and hope it'll be over soon. I don't know why Dolora won't let me pay. I tried once and she gave me this funny look and told me not to worry about it.
I had to go home after that. I hope my friends aren't worried. The pain is just so awful some days and actually, shouting helps. I hate it. I hate my bleeding so much. Sometimes I think I might want children just so the bleeding stops for a while.
Oh, wait, one more thing, before I forget. This strange man in a strange suit with white hair knocked on the door at Mother's and asked about something strange I didn't know about. I don't know. I'm a little confused. I just told him that I didn't know what he was talking about and he moved on. He was with this woman who had hair cut almost like a boy and tight, rather revealing clothes. I wish I could wear clothes like that; they look much more comfortable than the traditional women's clothes.
24 November 1611
Father should be coming home any day now. Mother hardly moved from the front room today and I know her nerves must be stretched to breaking. I can't help but feel bad for her; it must be awful being left behind like this. And she's stuck with me. I know that Mother only loves Father and that I'm a burden and even though I'll admit I resent her for that, I do feel sorry for her that Father doesn't seem to care.
We tried drawing again today. I still didn't get anywhere, but Sigmun did (sort of). Simonn had Sigmun and I sit still (a difficult feat for me) and drew us. He took an awful long time about it, too. He drew me reading a book (because I got bored and picked up a book after a while) and Sigmun staring off into space (he ended up just kind of staring off through the window right behind me). They were excellent drawings and I had to ask.
"Simonn, did you ever do drawing before this?"
"Uh…yeah. I've been doing it for years now, since…since I was seven. Eight, maybe."
"And you never showed us!" Sigmun said.
"Didn't seem that important."
"Are you kidding me? These are amazing!" I said. "Hey…you should draw yourself."
"I couldn't."
"You could."
"You definitely could," Sigmun agreed.
"Fine. And then…I've got an idea. I'll tell you guys tomorrow."
"What is it?" Sigmun asked.
"I'll tell you tomorrow!"
"Pleeeeeeeease?"
"Just…what if I drew all of us? Together? Dolora too."
"That would be amazing!" I enthused.
"How long would we have to sit still?" Sigmun asked.
"Uh…dunno. A while."
"Okay. Well…why don't we start today?"
"Sure, I guess," Simonn said.
"What, d'you think you're not good at drawing?" I asked. "Because you are."
Simonn looked down and scratched the back of his leg with his shoe. "Thanks."
"It's true," Sigmun said.
"Fine. All of you in front of the fireplace."
"Alright." Sigmun talked to Dolora and we all sat in front of the fireplace. Simonn stared for a second and started drawing and then he suddenly stopped. "Sigmun, put your arm around Dianna."
"What? Why?"
"I'm posing you. I do this with my siblings all the time. Dianna, a bit closer to Sigmun…good. And both of you closer to Dolora. Leave space there, next to Sigmun…good. I'm drawing myself in there." We stayed that way for a long, long time, until it was almost dark. I could feel Sigmun's arm around my shoulders the whole time and I felt like my insides were all in knots. I wonder why Simonn did that? He either did that on purpose for some reason or he really was just posing us. I wouldn't know. I don't know anything about drawing. But Simonn finished in time and it looks almost like real life, except without color. I think it'd be fun to do one every year. Kind of like a family portrait. The kind Simonn's parents did once (and almost left him out of) and Sigmun and Dolora can't afford and Mother never does because I'm not really her daughter.
A family at heart. How odd.
25 November 1611
If Father doesn't come home tomorrow, I guess we'll have to assume he's dead. I know I should be upset about that, because he is my father (sort of), but I just don't care about him all that much.
Sigmun and Simonn could tell I was tense, but when they asked and I said that I didn't want to talk about it because I simply hate talking about my father. He's not even really my father. Not by blood, not at heart. I wonder what it's like, having a father. I wonder what fathers are supposed to do. For that matter, I wonder what mothers are supposed to do. My mother criticizes me constantly, but Dolora is encouraging and I don't know which one a mother ought to be like.
Sigmun gave me a hair ribbon today and I am determined to get this ribbon to tie into my mess of hair. When I was little, my friends told me I had more hair than head. I don't know why he gave me a ribbon, and I certainly don't know if he meant it as a romantic gesture or not. Probably not. I'm a little scared Mother will figure out who the ribbon is from and make me give it to her, because I really want to hold onto this one. I know it's not good for me to think this way, like he might ever love me back, but I really can't help it.
One last thing about today: Mother tried to give me a lecture on how to fix my body shape, but I ran to my room. My body is my least favorite part of myself because I hate my shape and I just wish Mother would stop making it worse.
26 November 1611
Father came home today. I left as soon as I could. He shoved a little wooden toy for a five-year-old boy into my hand and said happy birthday to me. I said thank you and I wanted to ask if he even knew my name because I doubt it. I bet if I asked he'd say my name was Mary Sailor (because that's his last name and the most obvious name for a girl) or maybe John Sailor (because I'm not sure he knows I'm a girl). And I'd have to tell him no, it's Dianna. Dianna Leijon. Sixteen. A girl. Don't you remember?
I suppose I was rather quiet today because Simonn asked me if I was alright and I said yes, I was fine. And of course Sigmun didn't believe me, so he kept bugging me until I told them my father was home and I didn't really have to say anything else because they know how it is when my father is home.
I came home with the flowers from Sigmun today (still every day) and Father saw and he asked me, "What're those? Where were you all day?" (seven consecutive words, a record) and I lied to him the way I do with Mother. I told him I work for the seamstress and the flowers were just some I'd seen on the way home. Then I ran to my room and I skipped dinner (until I went downstairs later when they were in bed). And now it's like every time Father comes home and he shares a bed with Mother and I can't sleep. I just want to go to sleep. I just want to sleep.
27 November 1611
Father left today around noon (I think). Mother was sad and I'm not happy about that, but I just feel so lonely whenever Father visits. It's just…I suppose it's how Sigmun feels about his birth family. Kind of abandoned. Like no one cares about me anymore, not even my parents. I know it's not true, because I've got Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora and all my friends in the village, but there's something about being left behind by my own parents.
I wish I had a family. I mean a blood family. It just feels so lonely without a normal family like everyone else.
28 November 1611
Today was an interesting day of a sort. We were sitting around, reading a book about dancing, and I asked Sigmun and Simonn if they knew how to dance.
"C'mon, don't tell me no one ever taught you ballroom dancing."
"Well, I never had cause to learn," Sigmun said.
"My parents are busy," Simonn said flatly. He's probably never had time to learn dancing. Mother made me learn dancing when I was little and I never forgot. I don't like forgetting things I've learned.
"Well, I'll teach you. Stand up."
"What if I don't want to learn?" Simonn asked grumpily.
"You'll need to know dancing at some point," I said.
"She's right," Sigmun agreed.
So I taught them the minuet. It's one of the fancy dances no one ever really does (we all know the fun dances on festival days in the village and such), but it's good to know. It's also ridiculously hard. I'm not going into detail because it would take forever!
While we were dancing, I had to be the woman for both Simonn and Sigmun and the funny thing is, Sigmun was really good and I was about to have Simonn practice when he suddenly started messing up and doing the wrong moves and everything. So I had to practice with him more so he'd at least be decent and I know it's awful but I kind of liked it. I saw Simonn giving me a sort of raised-eyebrow type look, so I stuck my tongue out at him (I hope Sigmun didn't notice). I'd swear Simonn knows something I don't and it's very irritating.
Anyways, they both learned the dance well enough and now if we ever get invited to dance with the queen (as if), at least we won't trip when we try to dance.
30 November 1611
Mother seems to have picked up her needlepoint again, and if I'm not mistaken, the second figure is Father. He looks much younger than I've ever seen him and I think Mother is depicting the past they once had, before the recession.
They always say the recession turned everything upside down. I know it's why I was adopted and why Father became a trader (traders makes more money and the economy wasn't so bad other places). I know it's why Dolora left the city and why a lot of my friends in the village don't have much. But I'm not really sure how it turned everything upside down. It seems to me that most of the adults I talk to say it's mostly the same. Then again, I was an infant. What do I know?
It snowed again today, I think about half a foot. I think when it snows a bit more, we can have a snowball fight or something childish and very fun like that. I don't see what's wrong with being childish sometimes; it's more fun and honestly, I think if adults were childish and had fun more often, they'd be happier.