5 November 1612

I've been sick since October. Mother hardly noticed. I had shivers and a headache and I think I was a little feverish. My nose was runny and I slept all the time. I wish I'd been at Dolora and Sigmun's. Once I was sick for two weeks and I stayed there because Mother was visiting relatives or friends or someone (what horrible timing). I'd rather be there than here any day. I'd rather be sick there than healthy here.

I need to do something.

6 November 1612

I haven't wanted to cry so much in a long time. But in his letter, he said how much he missed me and wanted to see me. And then he said that he was worried about me and I want to cry because he's worrying about me and it's probably justified (to be honest), but it means he loves me. He cares about me. I feel like no one does anymore sometimes. I feel so lonely…

7 November 1612

I had such an argument with Mother today. She was angry because I told her I wanted to get married to him and I would, no matter what she thought. My head hurts from this mess now and I just want to curl up and sleep for a year. Sleep sounds wonderful right now.

8 November 1612

I had four separate nightmares last night. What fun. Why do I bother sleeping when this is all I get?

9 November 1612

I'm feeling sick again and I'm afraid I won't be able to go check for letters. I need those letters; I'll go crazy otherwise. I wish I could go to their house, if only to breathe in the forest and feel something besides all these roiling, awful feelings I've been stuck with. I feel like I'm ready to burst. Maybe I will.

10 November 1612

I had a dream about a lovely little island in the middle of a sky-colored lake. It wasn't an island for living on; rather, it was an island you'd go during the day to spend time where things were nice and lovely. There was a small rowboat you could take there and berries grew there, edible ones; I liked it very much. It was a lovely little dream. I wish I could've stayed there for a little while longer.

11 November 1612

It's been more than a year since I started keeping this journal. How quickly time goes by. How much changes in a year.

12 November 1612

I vomited twice today. I feel miserable. I can't stand too much longer like this. I can barely hold my pen.

20 November 1612

I was sick for a week and I couldn't write. I'm feeling a bit better now, though. I nearly fainted trying to get to the rock. But I need to know I'm not crazy. I have to.

21 November 1612

His last letter was so sweet. It was so concerned, so worried. It's nice to know he at least cares about me some.

Dearest Dianna,

I hope I hear from you soon. I'm starting to worry. Are you ill? Are you hurt? Are you alright? Please, write back. Mama's worried, too. Even Simonn asked if you're alright.

I sound so silly. But it's true.

There's not much to report here. Mama put in some more tea (I hope it doesn't rain). I tried to find some flowers for you, but not many grow this time of year. I found a few, though. I hope you get this before they die.

Anyways, Richard twisted his ankle. Simonn's other siblings are fine, and doing well in school. Simonn's taking Isabella, too, because she kept asking, even though she won't be six until April. Simonn and Hannah and the others are all doing well. I'm fine, but missing you. I've been practising sonnets, too. I think I'll have one finished by next week. I hope you'll like it.

I love you very much, Dianna. Everything reminds me of you. The moon reminds me your eyes. The novels remind me of you and I reading together. The forest reminds me of your laugh, of your smile of days in the woods when the sun shines and you shine even brighter. I hope I can see you soon; I miss you.

All my love,

Sigmun

22 November 1612

Mother and I fought horribly again today. My cheek stings and I think my eye will get that funny sort of bruise around it that happens sometimes. Simonn calls it a black eye. I hope not. I want to see my friends desperately, but I don't want them to see me like this.

Mother and I fought because I thought I might try to please her by sitting in the living room and knitting some. But she said I was lying to her by pretending I liked to knit. I don't have any feelings about knitting either way. I was just knitting. I didn't say anything, either. I'm just so tired of all this fighting. No wonder I've been sick.

23 November 1612

Today feels important for some reason. It's not. Well, a handsome man with gorgeous hair and a long, strange-looking coat came to our door and asked for someone named Rose. He was dressed very strangely, but I wasn't going to comment. It would be rude. Anyways, I don't know anyone named Rose, so I said to check at the pub in the village. Everyone ends up there at some point (including Mother on some Friday nights. She thinks I don't know). I wonder who he was?

I tried to leave the house again, but Mother was downstairs and she was awake with a cup of tea and she'd know if I climbed out my window or went downstairs. I wish I could sneak out long enough to wait for him more often. I like knowing that he's real. I don't think Dolora even knows about those moments, though. Mother certainly doesn't.

24 November 1612

I didn't get a chance to sneak out today; Mother spent all day by the door waiting for Father to come home. He should be home soon. I wonder what he'll be like this time? I usually greet him politely and he gives me some cheap trinket from another country meant for a five-year-old boy that I give to a child in the market. But he was drunk one year. And Mother still…she still tried for her own child. Because clearly I don't count. But then, she's never wanted me.

25 November 1612

I didn't get any sleep last night because I had a horrible nightmare I don't think I can stand to write about. I stayed up with a candle knitting until dawn.

26 November 1612

Father came home today. He brought me a toy from Asia and wished me a happy thirteenth birthday. He called me his son again. I can't help but feel insulted. I couldn't smell anything on his breath, but I left for my room as soon as I could. My father scares me a little when he's like that, all tired and hungry and just wanting to use Mother. I have no real love for Mother, but I think she at least deserves his respect and he sure doesn't give it to her.

I couldn't sleep until late and sounds were coming from Mother's room that told me exactly what was happening and I hate it. I absolutely hate it.

27 November 1612

I haven't gotten my bleeding in a long time, months. Dolora said that happens when you lose a lot of weight too fast (or of course if you're pregnant, but that's impossible). I guess that's another reason I'm so sick; I've lost so much weight.

I was shaking like a leaf today all day. I feel awful. I need to eat something. I'll waste away to nothing before long.

28 November 1612

I finally just asked Mother if I could go outside. She screamed at me and slapped me right where the other bruise was and it hurt so much I thought I'd start crying. I haven't cried in front of Mother since I was eight and I don't plan to change that. Why won't she let me outside? What's the point?

29 November 1612

I am pretty sure it's a bad thing to be able to count your own ribs. I'm also pretty sure it's a bad thing when you can't quite see out of one eyes because it's so swollen. I'm in horrible condition. I'm such a mess. I need to get away from Mother. I need to get somewhere I'll be safe.

30 November 1612

Safety seems like a myth these days, something that's never quite existed and that's never quite been real. I stayed in my room all day and tried to stay sane despite everything that's wrong with me right now. I read the book I have for the fifth time and I never thought I'd say it, but I'm sick of it.

1 December 1612

December again. Another month of hell to get through. I wanted to go to their house for Christmas, escape my mother's drunken anger and sadness, but maybe I won't be able to. I just want to feel sane again. Is that too much to ask?

2 December 1612

I petitioned my mother dearest to let me outside again today and she screamed and threatened me with another empty bottle of something. Probably wine or beer. I ducked and kept myself relatively intact. And it was Sunday, so I lit the first candle and let it burn. Sometimes watching a candle burn calms me down, but not this time. It just made me worry more.

3 December 1612

I vomited once today when I snuck downstairs late and ate a whole bunch of bread. I guess I ate too much, because I vomited badly and it burned my throat worse than fire. I wish I didn't feel so sick all the time.

4 December 1612

I was so shaky I could hardly get out of bed today. I feel like I'm teetering between life and death. Is death really such a horrible thing? It might be nice to just sleep forever.

No, no, what am I saying? I need to feel the grass beneath my feet one more time, the snow falling and tangling in my eyelashes, Sigmun's hand in mine, the warmth of actually being happy. I need that. I can't die now. I have things to live for! Right?

5 December 1612

I made it to the rock today, though it took much longer than usual. He left a very kind letter and I did my best to write back, but I don't want to let on how insane I feel. Or maybe I do. I wish I could tell him how crazy I feel without sounding completely insane. What a contradiction that is.

6 December 1612

I had such a headache the whole day today. I almost begged Mother to let me outside, but she was too drunk to care and she was also slumped against the door and I was too weak to climb out a window.

I'm going to die here.

7 December 1612

I tried just eating one slice of bread after Mother went to bed and even though I was incredibly nauseous, I managed to keep it in my stomach. That's good, I suppose. I don't know anymore.

9 December 1612

I was too sick to right yesterday. I mean I was too sick to write yesterday. I must be losing my mind, or at least my ability to spell and do grammar. Is it do grammar, or use grammar? Oh, I don't know. I just want to get out.

I lit the second candle today. I can't believe I remembered it was Sunday.

10 December 1612

I asked Mother if I could leave the house and she threw another bottle at me and I only barely ducked it. I didn't make it to the rock today. I don't think I will for a while.

11 December 1612

I'm going to snap if I stay inside one more day. I will. I need to get out.

12 December 1612

I feel more alive than ever! Mother finally let me leave the house today and I'm not exaggerating when I say I danced to Sigmun and Dolora's because I just felt so good today! (I think that strange burst of energy I get sometimes helped me do that, despite how weak I usually feel.) I had to wear my cloak and everything because it's still cold out and I knocked on the door and I was covered with damp sleet and…the look on Sigmun's face! It was the funniest thing I've ever seen, this mix of surprise and joy and something I couldn't quite pin down.

"Dianna?"

"Unless I'm some sort of ghost!"

His face broke into this huge smile and he laughed and hugged me so tight it almost hurt. He picked me up easily and spun me around off the ground and I laughed so hard it hurt my stomach. I felt my feet brush the ground and I felt his arms resting around my waist and brushing the small of my back while I threw my arms around his neck and he leaned down to kiss me. I swear his lips were even softer than they'd ever been before and his hands on my waist were the most exhilarating things I'd ever felt.

Of course, Dolora chose that moment to call, "Who's there, little love?" Sigmun blushed a dark red and said, "It's Dianna, Mama." He still calls her Mama and I find that very sweet.

"Oh, really? That's excellent! I'll make tea."

"Thanks, Mama." He smiled and hugged me one more time and I felt like flying. He kissed me on the cheek and we went inside. I can't hope to describe how amazing it felt to be back at Sigmun and Dolora's, because that house makes me feel warm and safe and comfortable. Dolora had that motherly smile that makes me feel like someone actually cares about me (because clearly Mother doesn't) and she hugged me, too, and smiled warmly and said, "It's so great to see you, Dianna! How's it been?"

"I've been fine, Dolora. What about you?"

"It's been lovely, dear! Now come and sit down and have some tea and something to eat; you look peaky."

"Oh, Mother's been running errands. She has no idea what to buy to make good food. She can cook well, but she sure can't shop!"

"That's too bad, Dianna dear! Really, you ought to eat more. You're getting too skinny." It's a strange sort of feeling when Dolora acts like this over me. I can tell she's worried, but not about me being skinny (which I am because of Mother keeping me inside. I didn't eat much). She's worried because my mother just kept me inside for six months.

"Hey…d'you want to read a book?" Sigmun asked with that earnest sort of smile he has when he's nervous.

"Of course I do."

"You choose."

"You sure?"

"Of course."

I wandered for a little, then I picked a romance novel. "What about this one?"

"Sounds good to me."

So we sat on the couch and took turns reading the book out loud to each other, like we always do. We were about a chapter in when he suddenly stopped talking. "What is it, Sigmun?" I asked.

"I…I thought I'd never see you again."

"What d'you mean? I'm fine."

"Well…you were gone for so long I thought you'd never get out and I'd lose you and I wouldn't be able to bear that."

"I'd always find a way out. I'd always find my way back to you."

He smiled gently and said, "And me to you." I kissed his nose and he smiled again. I know when we get old, he'll have laugh line around his eyes.

Dolora made us lunch, and she made me eat the whole bowl of stew because she's right, I haven't been eating enough. And that felt good too, because I am really hungry and proper food felt so good when I've been lacking it for so long.

In the afternoon, I suggested going outside because I just want to be outside every moment I can. Sigmun suggested walking around the woods and I thought that sounded wonderful because I love the forest, and honestly I missed it.

We went to the clearing and sat on that log and I sat on his lap and wrapped myself in his cloak because it was so warm. I could feel his hands resting around my waist, just brushing my hips a little, enough to make me blush. I reached one of my hands up to stroke his cheek and I said, "I love you, you know."

"I know." He kissed me on the forehead and I felt tension melt away just from the gentle touch. "I love you, too."

"I know." I rested my head on his chest along with one of my hands and I could hear his heart fluttering a bit like he was nervous. "Are you nervous?"

"I…a little." I could tell he was blushing.

"Why?"

"Because…because…this is the first time I've spent time with you when there's not a time limit or something and we're really close and I just…I…"

"It's okay, Sigmun. I don't care."

"Oh. Uh…great." I could feel him shifting and then I felt his fingers link around my waist and draw me closer so I was pressed right up against him. I nuzzled at his neck because it felt so natural and then (I don't know why) I kissed him there, right on the side of his neck. I mean a proper kiss, too. His grip on me tightened, just a touch, and I could feel his face heating up. I tilted my head back and he was, in fact, a brilliant shade of crimson. But he could speak. "Mind if I try?"

I shook my head and he carefully leaned his head down and pressed a long, long kiss on my neck that was hard and sweet at the same time. I felt butterflies in my stomach and when he broke away, I leaned up to kiss him on the lips. It was the longest kiss we've ever shared and I never wanted it to end. I mean, it wasn't just a kiss; we were kissing each other's necks and faces and I could feel his hands creep below the small of my back and I didn't care. I heard him making these little sounds I'd never really heard before and then I realized I was making those sorts of sounds, too, little grunts and groans of a sort that made me blush. I didn't want to stop (and I could tell he didn't!), but eventually breathing became something we both had to do and we slowly drifted apart. I rested my forehead against his and intertwined my fingers with his and I would've been happy to stay that way forever.

"I love you." He barely whispered it, but I heard it.

"I love you too."

It was getting dark and I had to go home. "Bye, Sigmun."

"See you, Dianna."

I could just about die right now.

13 December 1612

Simonn came over today, too! He saw me kiss Sigmun when I greeted him and I could've sworn I heard him mutter, "Finally," under his breath. Dolora nodded sagely and I suppose she always knew. She's that sort of person.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of kissing Sigmun. I'm sure there are people who tire of kissing the one they love, but I don't think I ever will. I'm sure it's another horrible thing to like that Mother would tell be me to be ashamed of, but I don't care what she thinks anymore. If I want to kiss Sigmun, if I want to spend all my time in the woods, if I want to get an education, if I want to stay home and do needlepoint all day, I think it should be my choice. Why should anyone else choose for me? Honestly.

I don't really know how to explain how I feel right now except that I feel alive. I feel like I could climb a mountain, swim across an ocean, travel through the entire forest. I could just go up to Sigmun and kiss him on the lips, tell Mother exactly how I feel about what she tells me, scream to the world everything that's wrong. I feel like I could do anything.

14 December 1612

The cold air feels like some sort of invigorating drink, making me feel full of energy again. And I ran errands today, so I bought enough food that I won't be hungry. I don't like being hungry. I've been so happy these past couple days that I nearly forgot how skinny and how sick I've been. I'm considering asking Dolora if I can stay with them for a few days in case I'm actually sick. I feel a bit better, but I can't eat so much besides broth and bread and sometimes stew. And I can see Dolora worrying about me, hear it in her voice. I'm worried about me. Now that I'm certain I have my sanity back, I realize that my body is in worse shape than I thought.

I need to do something about that.

15 December 1612

Ironically, today when I came over, Sigmun said Dolora had asked him to tell me that I ought to stay over a few days because she's apparently very worried about the fact that I can count my ribs and that all my clothes hang too loose on me. It is somewhat worrisome.

So I suppose I'll be staying over tonight and maybe a couple more nights after that. I'm at home, picking up my clothes so I can alter them while I'm there, and my journal, clearly. I think I'll leave the extra fabric in my clothes because hopefully I can gain back some of the weight I lost. I'll look nicer that way. And hopefully I won't feel nauseous after I eat.

16 December 1612

I've never been so grateful for Dolora's care. She told me I had to eat more, but slowly, because my body had started confusing food and things that hurt you, like poison. She said I better stay at their house until I can walk around without feeling like I'm going to faint. That's probably a good idea, to be completely honest. Anyways, I could do with resting somewhere I don't have to worry for my safety. Now that the excitement of being outside has mostly worn off, I can tell how sick I am.

It was Sunday, so I lit the third candle at Dolora's house. This time, it was calming to see the little flame slowly burning the wax away.

17 December 1612

Simonn brought his siblings over for a couple minutes after school today and Isabella looked at me all funny and said, "Are you sick?"

"I suppose I'm a little sick."

"You're all skinny and pale like sick people."

"I'm fine, though, Isabella. I promise."

"Alright," she shrugged. I guess she would rather play than talk about being sick.

There are people who are just that skinny like I am now (I've already gained back a little weight), but I'm just not like that. I mean, Simonn's tall and thin as a beanpole, and he's perfectly fine. I'm just not built that way and I know it. I still haven't gotten my bleeding.

Dolora said it was a bad idea to leave the house today, very sternly. I think she's worried I'll faint if I walk too much. On the other hand, now that I'm not constantly hungry, I realize that I have a bit of a fever. I'm a little scared, to be completely honest. But Dolora's a good doctor and I'm sure I'll be fine.

I hope so, anyways.

18 December 1612

Sigmun woke me up this morning because I just kept sleeping. I think that's what you're supposed to do when you're sick.

"Dianna. Dianna."

"Mmph."

"Dianna, wake up. C'mon."

"I'm sick, though."

"Oh, good."

"What about that is good?"

"I was just…I was worried you wouldn't wake up."

"I'm fine. It's just a little fever. I'll be fine." I started to get up, but he stopped me.

"Nope, you stay right here. I'm going to get you some soup and a good book."

"Sigmun…"

"You're sick. It's fine. I do this all the time with Mama." When people get sick at night, Sigmun comes with Dolora to help.

Anyways, he did bring me a bowl of soup and my favorite book. And he sat with me on the couch and we read the book together, like usual. Simonn didn't come; he must've been busy. He didn't seem to mind that I had to stop reading for a little while after I finished eating because I felt so sick. He just put the book down while I leaned against him and brought my knees up to my chin to quell the nausea. He's very sweet to me. I don't deserve it, but I also like it. What's wrong with me?

19 December 1612

Sigmun is so sweet. Today was my last day here, except Sigmun asked me to please stay one more day in case I got sick again. He said he was worried. But I really did have to go home and deal with my mother.

While I was there, Sigmun was all sweet and kind, making me soup and tea and saying that I should just stay on the couch and he'd take care of things.

"I'm not incompetent, Siggy."

"But you're sick, so you should rest."

"I'm fine."

"You have a fever."

"It's mostly gone."

"Mostly. Not all the way. I don't know a lot medicine, but I know you should rest."

"Fine, fine. I'm still going home tonight."

"But I'll be all lonely," he teased.

"And I won't be?"

"Fair point."

"You're so silly."

He grinned that goofy grin of his and sat down on the couch next to me. I've never been so glad I have him.

When I got home, Mother was angry and drunk, as usual. I ducked all three bottles she threw and I only have a couple cuts from the glass shards.

I'm so tired. But I just have until August. Eight months. I just have to hold out for eight more months.

20 December 1612

I felt good enough to walk to Dolora and Sigmun's and back today. Mother was angry and she yelled at me a good deal.

"This is why you can't leave the house! You're so headstrong you'll live on the streets for days!"

"Mother, I was sick! I was at a doctor's house!"

"You little whore!"

"A doctor, Mother! Because you kept me inside so long I got sick! I had a fever!"

"You rotten liar! You're rotten to the core! You disobedient, useless, horrible child!"

"Leave me alone!"

"You need to fix yourself!"

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I marched up to my room and slammed the door and I'm just so sick of this. Just eight more months to get through.

21 December 1612

Simonn and Sigmun and I read a book on Prussian history today. It's funny how easily everything falls back into place after such a mess.

22 December 1612

There are times when I want nothing more than to run away. I hope and pray no one ever reads this because I know it's horrible, but sometimes I plan it out in my head how I'd manage it. I'm sure Dolora would let me stay with her for a while, until I could find a job and maybe get my own house, or when I'm eighteen and Mother goes to live with Father again. Then I can live there until or ever after I get married. I can work at a seamstress's and I can walk around with Sigmun and Simonn to help avoid Mother. I'm sure it would work out.

But I can't. I know it's wrong, and I know it's crazy, and I know it would never work, but I want to.

Maybe I'm still a little bit crazy.

23 December 1612

Simonn said his father finally stopped fighting about his siblings going to school, despite his usual "They're all going to work in the fields and get their hands dirty for once in their lives" spiel, which is rather stereotypical. That's good, because it's hard enough having Isabella in school because no one thinks she'll do well (though she is).

24 December 1612

I am not dreading Christmas this year. I'm not even dreading what Mother would do when she finds out I've left. No, if she finds out I've left. I'll be back to help her get over being sick from being drunk after Christmas. For a little bit, anyways.

25 December 1612

I do not regret a thing about leaving my mother to her own devices on Christmas.

When I woke up, I put on my nice dress and brushed out my hair and also put on my good shoes. I found my Sunday cloak and donned it over my dress and left a note on the table telling Mother I was out for the day and turkey was in the cabinet. I walked the mile or more to Sigmun and Dolora's house and when I got there, it was so warm inside, even not compared to the cold, snowy December weather outside. Dolora was all smiles and kind words and I was actually happy, for once, to be celebrating Christmas. They had four candles, too, but they were colorful candles (not like mine). Mother thinks the three purple and one pink candles are frivolous and gets wax-colored ones. Dolora's are purple and pink, with one very pretty on in the center.

Oh, and Dolora got a letter and it turns out that friend can't come this year, but she promised to visit in January. I'd love to meet Dolora's friend. I think her name is Rosalie or Rose or something similar. It's not a common name, but then, none of our names are common.

Anyways, I helped Dolora and Sigmun cook, even though I was wearing my nice dress, and it was strange because I've never cooked with anyone like that. Dolora was smiling so much I thought she'd start glowing. There was a lovely happiness in the way Dolora pretended to scold Sigmun for eating some of the Yorkshire pudding batter (we made her version, with all the butter and drippings) and the way Sigmun grinned at everything and the smile Dolora had when she greeted me by hugging me tightly and saying, "Happy Christmas, Dianna dear." I've never felt so welcome or even wanted anywhere. It was a lovely Christmas, and a nice meal, and we exchanged little presents, and now I have a warm scarf for the winter and a collection of beautiful hair ribbons. I feel so light. I feel like I could fly. I feel wonderful. Mother locked herself in her room, too, so for once, I've had a wonderful day from start to end. And I ate a good deal and though I feel a little sick, I don't think I'm going to vomit and I'm gaining back some weight.

I feel good. How unexpected.

26 December 1612

Mother was horribly ill again today, but I figured she could take care of herself and left because I can't stand to be inside anymore. Anyways, I don't owe her anything. I don't owe my mother anything for the slaps and the bottles and the drinking and the yelling.

Maybe I feel just a little bit guilty,

27 December 1612

I felt so sick today and I hope the fever isn't coming back. It might just be because Mother threw another bottle at me and it hit me and broke. Now there's these awful cuts all up and down my arms and legs because I fell over after that and then Mother threw a few more bottles. The worst ones are the two in my side that I should probably stitch up. At least the bleeding stopped.

28 December 1612

Dolora asked me what had happened when I came over so I told her and she did the stitches for the cuts in my side and said something about how she was worried about me, and I could stay with her and Sigmun for a while if I wanted to. I told her it was fine, I was fine, it was okay. I wish I could stay there, but I have to deal with my mother and I just can't leave. I don't even know why. I just…I can't.

29 December 1612

It's almost New Year's. I want a new year so badly right now. I want a whole new start sometimes, from the beginning of my life. Maybe I could figure out some way that Mother could love me. Maybe I would still have Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora and Hannah and Neolla and Mariek and my other friends. Maybe I'd be happy.

30 December 1612

We practiced math today, algebra specifically. It wasn't so bad at all.

I wonder how I did with my resolutions last year. I said I'd learn to sew better, and I did. And I kept my journal mostly. I wrote a poem, and spent Christmas with Sigmun and Dolora. And I've told Sigmun I love him. And I did tell Mother I don't want to get married yet, even though she didn't listen. So I guess I didn't do so horribly.

31 December 1612

I better make a new list for this year. We studied Russian today and I quite liked it.

1. Keep up my journal

2. Get out

3. Remember everyone's birthdays

4. Get to be a better writer

5. Learn to speak Russian and at least one other language fluently

6. Make Mother understand I don't want to get married