1 July 1613
I wonder what I'll do for Sigmun's birthday. I made Simonn puff pastries and a pair of mittens. I'll come up with something, I'm sure.
Rose was at Sigmun and Dolora's again today, but she was in town most of the day, presumably with Dolora.
We went to the creek and waded in the shallowest part for a while. It is boiling out these days.
2 July 1613
Rose was sitting at the table with her cup of tea again today. I just feel so strange with her there; I'm so used to Sigmun and Simonn and occasionally Dolora. And Rose is just something else. She's very forward, and she always flirts with Dolora (though I think that's sweet), and she speaks her mind more than anyone else I've ever met. She's nice, though; I like her.
I wonder, what if Dolora and Rose could be married? I know it's impossible, but I think Dolora of all people deserves a nice marriage and lovely, long life. Would Sigmun have two mothers then? What a strange concept, having two mothers. But I'd rather have two mothers than my mother and father. If my father was a girl or my mother was a boy, I don't think my life would be any different. I'd still have awful parents.
Anyways, Sigmun seemed tired, so we all walked to the river and sat on the rocks in the middle of the shallow part and spent time at the river. I like the river.
4 July 1613
We swam again today and when we sat on the grass by the water, I realized how much I have with them, with my real family. There's just something about the way I love them and the way they seem to love me. I didn't think it was so important, but now I wonder because nothing makes me feel as good as they do. Even though I don't get butterflies in my stomach looking at Sigmun's goofy smile like I used to, it still makes me feel warm and loved. There's just something about having a family at heart, when my family by blood has long since soured.
5 July 1613
Today when I climbed out of the river to sit on a rock and I tucked my legs up a little out of the water like I do, and Sigmun swam up while I was trying to braid my hair back and grabbed my ankle. I screamed bloody murder and kicked my leg and I barely missed his face.
"Woah!" he shouted.
"Oh, I'm sorry…"
"It's okay." He had that wicked grin on his face I know very well. "Scared you though."
"I was sitting here braiding my hair, jeez."
He pulled himself onto the rock next to mine and grinned again. He was just sitting there with a goofy, genuine grin on his face and I felt ten years old again, young and free. So I dove into the water and pulled Sigmun into the water, prompting to shout, "Stop flirting and get over here!" I rolled my eyes and it turned out Simonn wanted us to test out the ropes on the bridge to catch if we got caught in the current. Well, it worked.
6 July 1613
Today we took a novel to the creek and sat with our feet in the water and read. Dolora says if we take books outside, we better be damn careful with them (to this day it's the only time I've ever heard her curse).
It was a lovely day and a good book. I couldn't stay late with Sigmun, though, because of Mother. She's been so angry lately that I have to make my own dinner if I want to eat, which isn't so often anymore.
7 July 1613
Mother and I had such a fight today, worse than the normal ones. My voice hurts from screaming and my hands hurt from when I fell backward and threw my arms out to break the fall and my arm hurts from yet another cut from one of Mother's bottles. I don't want any more stitches, but I'm going to need them. I'm so tired of this. I just want it to be over.
8 July 1613
We stayed inside today because I had stitches in my arm and Dolora sighed when she did them, sounding all tired and worried. "Dianna dear, I'm worried about you."
"I'm fine."
Dolora gave me a skeptical look. "Well, if you'd ever like to talk, I'm here."
"Thanks, Dolora."
"Any time, dear."
After Dolora left and Sigmun and Simonn and I were l reading, Rose asked me, "How did that happen?"
"Uh…My mother was drunk last night…It's alright, it happens all the time, really…"
"That's not okay, though!"
"I'm fine."
"Is it like this in all the villages?"
"My mother's the worst I know of."
"Why don't you run away?"
"I don't know!" I snapped.
"Alright, alright," Rose said, holding up her hands in surrender. "I'm just saying. I'm not in politics for nothing."
"What does politics have to do with horrible parents?" Simonn interjected.
"Well, we could make laws to protect children, see," Rose says.
"Oh," I said. I sighed and leaned back on the couch. "Sigmun, keep on reading, will you?"
Sigmun nodded and kept reading. I still don't know what to think about laws protecting children. Having laws protecting me from my mother just seems impossible.
9 July 1613
Today was Rose's last day here. Dolora made a nice dinner and Simonn and I stayed for dinner. I wonder if it's odd for Sigmun. He's never had two parents (really only Simonn has, and that's only sort of), so it must've been strange having two adults in the house. I think it'd be odd having my father home all the time, though it might be better for everyone if he was.
Anyways, it was a nice dinner and Rose left right afterwards. I hope she visits sometimes; I rather like her.
10 July 1613
It was actually tolerable outside today, so we went to the clearing with the forget-me-nots and lied in the shade and stared at the clouds. I like the forget-me-nots; I like their smell and their color and I like the idea of not forgetting. When I was little, I pretended that when someone died, a forget-me-not would grow so no one would forget them.
I was a strange child. I just like the idea of always remembering. I don't think you can really forget someone who's important to you, ever. Forgetting is a choice, in my opinion, and it's one I'd rather not make. I'd rather remember. After all, I think a person is her stories and if you forget your stories, what do you have left?
12 July 1613
I've been making a hat out of bright red wool I got at the market the other day. Mother hates the color red, so I got the most expensive sort of yarn I could in the color. It's probably going to backfire, but I just can't let her win. Anyways, it'll make a nice present.
14 July 1613
Today was Sigmun's birthday! I escaped early and I made him baked apples, because baked apples are his favorite and I wanted to do something nice because I missed his birthday last year. I like doing nice things for my friends. Dolora was in the market in the morning, so when Sigmun wandered into the kitchen (I suppose he thought I wasn't there yet for one reason or another), he rubbed his eyes and said, "Am I crazy?"
"I don't think so, but I can't say for sure."
"Mama left already?"
"Mm-hmm."
"What's that?"
"Baked apples."
"Really?"
"No, they're actually mashed potatoes I painted to look like apples."
"Well, let me help then."
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"This is your birthday present."
"So?"
"So, I'm making your baked apples for your birthday. That means you're not allowed to help out."
"I can cook just as well as you can."
"I know that. But it's a gift."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Happy birthday!" I hugged him and he hugged me back.
"Hey, is Simonn coming over today?"
"I hope so!"
"Yeah…" Sigmun sat on the counter and hunched his shoulders.
"Are you alright?"
"How do you that?!"
"Do what?"
"Where I just sit here, and you just know that something's wrong."
"You hunched your shoulders."
"That's weird."
"Excuse me!"
"I don't mean…Never mind. Just had a bad nightmare."
"Want to tell me about it? I have some experience with nightmares."
"No, s'alright. It was weird."
"Alright."
He kicked the air while I put the apples in the oven. "What time is it?" I asked.
"Eight-thirty on the dot."
"Right. I'll take them out at eight fifty."
"Baked apples are the best."
"Oh, I nearly forgot."
"What?"
"I made this for you, too." I handed him the hat.
"Wow, thanks!"
"You're welcome. That's about three days of very careful knitting right there."
"You shouldn't have."
"Well, I did anyways. Mother was really angry when I got the yarn. She hates the color red, says it's undignified or something."
"Sorry…"
"Don't apologize! It's the only way I can get back at her now, doing stuff like that. Anyways, do you like it?"
"Yeah, I do."
Simonn wandered in just then and said, "Happy birthday, Siggy!"
"Thanks," Sigmun said, grinning. "We're having baked apples, apparently."
"Yum," Simonn said, sitting on the counter kitty corner from Sigmun. "Anyways, here's something I thought you'd like." He tossed a coin at Sigmun.
"A whole penny? Simonn—"
"Hey, eighteen's a pretty big number. Happy birthday."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Don't spend it all in one place."
"Alright…"
"Hey, what time is it?" I asked.
"Eight fifty, give or take," Simonn said. "Why?"
"Apples are done," I announced, grabbing a rag and pulling them out of the oven. "Two for everyone."
"Six apples? Wow," Simonn commented.
"Eighteen is a big number, like you said," I shrugged. "Wait for them to cool, Sigmun."
"What makes you think I wouldn't?"
"Remember when we were twelve and Dolora taught us how to make cinnamon bread and you burned your tongue so bad you couldn't taste anything for three days?"
"Vividly. But I'm not thirteen anymore, in case you haven't noticed."
"Well, still wait a couple minutes."
"Fine."
Once the apples were cool, we each took two and followed the path to the creek, where we spent the day splashing each other and picking berries and lying lazily in the sun. It was a lovely day. It's funny; it's never rained on his birthday as long as I can remember. And of course I stayed for dinner. Dolora made this lovely meal of mashed potatoes and some sort of stew, the kind she only makes on special occasions. It was a good day, overall.
15 July 1613
It was horribly hot out today, so we went swimming in the river. It was lovely, swimming around like that. I love swimming and especially when it's so hot out because the cool water is invigorating. While we were swimming, I ducked my head under and grabbed Simonn's ankle. He screamed bloody murder and practically jumped out of the water!
"Calm down, Simmie. It's just me."
"Dammit, Deedee. You scared me!"
"I know."
Simonn rolled his eyes and swatted at me, which obviously I ducked. He's so silly.
16 July 1613
I've been so stressed recently and today Dolora made me tea again. Sigmun apparently decided that he'd be sweeter than usual and he played with my hair while I curled up against his side and rested my head on his shoulder. I only fell asleep for a little while, but being so warm and having someone holding me and treating me like I'm worth something and the tea and the sense of being loved, it just makes me feel good enough and safe enough to sleep. Which takes a lot these days. Anyways, I know he likes snuggling up close to me (the feeling is mutual, I must say), and I'm always happy to see him happy. It's one of the few things that makes me smile these days.
17 July 1613
They tried to talk me into leaving again today and I don't know why I don't. I can't argue for why I don't leave. Nothing makes sense about it. I just can't.
It was hot out, so we went swimming again. I didn't mean to glance at Sigmun like that, but he's so handsome and I glance at him too often anyways. I even caught him looking at me once (Except once he realised I'd caught him he started blushing red as a rose). He's very sweet.
19 July 1613
Dolora keeps worrying; I can see it in her eyes. There's always a certain sort of heaviness in her eyes that I don't point out, but I certainly see. But I see it more and more lately and I wish I wasn't worrying her. I don't want to be a burden and I certainly don't want to worry her. I know she's more like what a mother is supposed to be than my own mother, but I still wish she wouldn't worry so much. I'm nothing to be worried about.
20 July 1613
I hate feeling so sick all the time. I wouldn't be able to tell if I was actually sick anymore; it'd just feel like another awful day living with my mother. But I don't want to take any medicines; it'll just make it obvious how horrible I feel.
At least I can have Dolora's tea. If nothing else, it helps me calm down.
21 July 1613
I had one of those dreams about drowning last night, except this time Sigmun and Simonn and I were swimming and then they both left when the storm started. But it was my mother's voice in the thunder, taunting me for trusting and loving her when I was a child, because she'd never loved me and never would. And then I woke up screaming for the first time in months and Mother was furious with me again.
We didn't go swimming, luckily. We picked berries in the clearing with the pine tree in the middle and waded in the creek. It was nice.
22 July 1613
This mess again. We went to the village today and I was sitting with Neolla and Hannah and Mariek (Hannah comes over some days still to work on her writing, but not so often now that she's better. Too bad; it was so sweet when she'd come over and Simonn would start shaking and laughing awkwardly because he was so nervous. They'd be a wonderful couple) and just kind of spending time together and talking, it wasn't anything special.
Anyways, we were planning on going home (Sigmun and Simonn and I), and we had started walked back to Sigmun and Dolora's through the square from the park where we usually spend time. We were by the fountain when I saw the soldiers coming into town and I realized that we had to go.
"Sigmun, Simonn, we have to go."
"Why?" Sigmun asked.
"Soldiers…"
"Oh, we better go," Simonn said, nodding.
I nodded, too, and we started walking towards the edge of the market because it's really not a good idea to walk right through the market if you're like us. I suppose we looked suspicious doing that, because when the guards split up I saw two of them point at us.
"Here we go again," Simonn muttered under his breath. He turned and ran down Sheppard's Alley, Sigmun and I following close behind. Problematically, it's hard to run fast through an alley, so they almost caught up to us when we got to the end and turned down the street. I hate how they target people no one would miss.
Sigmun led the way into the woods near the forget-me-not clearing, and then he turned so sharply I almost stumbled. "I know where to go," he said, pulling us towards the creek. We finally arrived at the creek and we were far enough ahead that we had a moment to rest before Sigmun stepped in the creek and started walking upstream. "Come on," he murmured. "It turns pretty sharply up here, remember?"
"Of course," I said. I heard the soldiers behind us and panicked.
"Sigmun—" Simonn began
"Down!" I hissed, shoving Sigmun and Simonn down in the creek at the deepest part and then ducking down myself. I held my breath and prayed that the soldiers hadn't seen us.
I held my breath as long as I could before I felt like I was going to faint and I sat up and drunk the air in like I'd never breathed before. The soldiers had turned the wrong way down the creek, I realized. How unlucky for them.
Anyways, I was absolutely soaking from being in the river and then Sigmun and Simonn and I just sat there for a moment, unmoving, as to stay silent and concealed.
Finally, the woods were quiet of people sounds except my own too-fast breathing and my friends.
"Can we move yet?" Sigmun asked, just a little quieter than normal.
"I think we're safe," Simonn said.
"My mother is going to kill me," I realized, trying not to panic.
"We have just escaped certain enslavement and likely death and you're worried about your mother?" Sigmun asked.
"Well, it's reasonable enough," I said.
"Fair point," Simonn agreed. "Let's go. The sun will dry us off."
"With any luck," Sigmun agreed. "Clearing?"
"Yeah."
The three of us walked to the clearing and lied in the sun until we all had to head home. That was too close for comfort. I wish we didn't have to run.
23 July 1613
Less than one month. I can't wait. I just want to get out.
24 July 1613
Dolora made me tea today and stayed at home until I'd drunk the whole cup.
"Dear, would you like to stay for dinner tonight?"
"I can't. My mother is expecting me home."
Dolora looked at me with that heavy worry in her eyes and said, "Alright, Dianna dear. But don't be a stranger, come over for dinner soon. Alright?"
"Alright, I will."
"And you can stay the night any time you like. You're always welcome here."
"Thanks, Dolora."
"You're welcome, dear." She smiled and hugged me and then left for the market. It makes me want to cry when Dolora's so kind to me, and I don't even know why. It's like I'm her daughter, and I don't know why she bothers.
25 July 1613
Today we were climbing a tree that I suppose we're now too big for when Simonn stepped on a branch and it snapped underneath him. I heard him scream something rather rude and fall on his back on the ground.
"Simonn?" Sigmun shouted down. "Are you alright?"
"Oh yes, I'm having a fabulous time down here," Simonn said, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm. "Just peachy."
"Hold on a sec," I said, climbing down from the the tree. I landed next to him and then said, "Are you broken?"
"Not sure…" He shook his head and sat up. "Well, that was fun."
"Jeez, are you sure you're okay?" Sigmun asked, landing next to me.
"I'm fine, just give me a minute to sit up." Simonn sat up and cast his gaze around the forest. "You know what, I think sitting inside sounds like a good idea."
"Alright. Let's go." Sigmun and I helped Simonn back to the house and read for the rest of the day. Simonn seemed alright, and I certainly trust that he'll speak up if he's properly hurt.
27 July 1613
I'm so tired these days. I don't know why, either, but I bet it's Mother. I know that I should just leave, but…
Anyways, I'll be free soon.
28 July 1613
I was sick again today. I made it to Sigmun and Dolora's, but once I got there, I started vomiting and I couldn't breathe and my throat was burning and even though my whole body hurt, I almost felt detached from the whole thing, even from my own body. And at once I also feel tense and irritable and just so tired, all the time. Funny enough, I haven't been having as many of my very good dreams recently. Usually, when my nightmares get really awful, my good dreams or my very good dreams kick in to compensate.
I still hate the nightmares.
Oh, and we studied physics today. We're getting close to the end of that massive physics book Simonn loves so much.
29 July 1613
It occurs to me that by every standard of family that I know of, my mother isn't my mother as much as Dolora is. Though I know that most mothers sometimes hit their children, I also know that in the end, most parents would rather see their children succeed than fail, even for their own selfish reasons. My mother would rather see me fail and I think she doesn't want me around. She acts like I'm the biggest mistake she ever made. But Dolora always treats me nicely, like I'm a person worth respect or even kindness. Even when I was little and I still had big dreams, before I knew what the world expects of women, she told me I could do anything I wanted to do. She told me that I could write books if I wanted to, back when my dream was to write adventure novels. I wish my blood parents had given me to her instead of Mother.
I have less than a month until I can escape.
30 July 1613
It is strange to realize that I have three families, and each of them has changed my life, and that only one of them I consider my real family.
We read a novel today and I was just so tired and I couldn't seem to concentrate. I can never seem to concentrate these days, even on something as simple as knitting.
1 August 1613
Twenty-two days. Or twenty-one, depending on how you look at it. I'd prefer to think twenty-one.
2 August 1613
Twenty days. I feel like I'm stuck in those few seconds before some huge catastrophe, the way they count down from five before they fire a cannon and destroy whatever is in the cannonball's path. I suppose that it will be a catastrophe. It will certainly be explosive, that much is a guarantee. And yet still I worry.
Of course I do; I have no choice.
3 August 1613
Nineteen days. My mother has been drinking even more and yelling more and my whole body aches from her bottles and her blows. I've taken to wearing my winter shirts and skirts to cover the bruises and cuts. I don't want my friends worrying.
4 August 1613
Eighteen days. My counting down (countdown? Is that a word?) continues.
We went to the river and went swimming today, but even the lightness of the water and breathlessness of ducking below the surface couldn't make me forget like it normally does.
5 August 1613
Seventeen days. Two weeks and three days. I just want this to be over.
I wonder what it will feel like to live alone. I wonder what it will be like to fall asleep in an empty house, eat dinner with myself, sew in silence, clean the house without a background of anger and fear blending into some sort of vile, toxic stew. At least I'll be able to keep the place clean.
6 August 1613
Sixteen days. I feel like a child waiting anxiously for Christmas, except with the emotions utterly inverted and twisted.
I'd rather not write about my fights with Mother anymore. I don't want to make myself relive them.
7 August 1613
Fifteen days. Just two weeks and one day.
I think today was the worst fight yet. She and I were both screaming and yelling and I almost wanted to hit her back, but I'm so afraid and I don't like hurting people. But we were fighting with words as our weapons and I think they were sharper than any broken glass she used to slash open crimson cuts in my side.
I wish I didn't have to ask Dolora to stitch my cuts. I don't want her to worry.
8 August 1613
Fourteen days. Two weeks precisely. It's strange to think that while I've never dreaded my birthday quite so much, I simply cannot wait until I am free.
We picked berries today, careful to avoid the wasps and the mosquitoes. Dolora picked out the ones she'd need for preserves and then told us to have the rest with milk and sugar. I love berries with milk and sugar and the sweetness was a welcome change from the taste of blood and the smell of vomit so strong I think I can taste it.
9 August 1613
Thirteen days. I still don't know who this Jennet Mother hates so much is.
We sat by the creek today and when I wasn't paying attention, Sigmun came up behind me and tapped my shoulder and I screamed because I've been so jumpy lately.
"Oh my goodness, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. You just scared me, is all."
"If you're sure…"
"Of course I'm sure," I said, trying for a fake grin.
"Wow, that was the least genuine smile I've ever seen," Sigmun said. He knows me too well. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to a bruise on my hand. "For that matter, what's with the winter clothes? It's August, for heaven's sake."
"It's nothing. The only clean clothes I have," I bluffed.
"Dianna…"
"I'm fine, jeez. Can you just leave it be?!"
"Alright, alright. I'm just asking." Sigmun stood and crossed the creek to where Simonn was examining pebbles the way he does. But I'm sure he knew. How could he not?
10 August 1613
Twelve days. Less than two weeks.
I feel as though I'm barely holding onto my sanity. I'm just so upset and so tired and so angry it's not fair, it's not fair! I just want to feel safe in my own house. Is that too much to ask for?
11 August 1613
Eleven days. It feels like an eternity.
We read a novel today by the creek today and it was nice, the warm sunlight and the cool water and the soothing words. I find words more soothing than anything else, except my friends. There's just something about words.
12 August 1613
Ten days. How long each hour seems as I approach the end of these years of fear.
13 August 1613
Nine days. Just a little more than a week.
Mother keeps calling me the biggest mistake of her life and I wish I didn't mess everything up. I think they'd all be better off without me. Sigmun would find some other girl who'd be a better wife than me, and Dolora wouldn't have to worry about me, and Simonn wouldn't have my stupid friendly affections to deal with. I doubt my friendship means to them what theirs does to me. I doubt my ridiculous feelings mean anything at all.
14 August 1613
Eight days. Eight long, endless days.
I wish I had a proper mother. I wish I lived with Dolora so I could feel safe when I sleep. I wish I could to someone when I had nightmares. I wish, I wish, I wish, but I never receive.
15 August 1613
Seven days. One week precisely.
I have a sense that Dolora is angry with my mother, despite never having met her, and I find this minorly befuddling. How can you be angry with someone you've never even met? The reason I think that is because whenever I mention my mother, she sighs that irritated sigh and clenches one of her fists. How strange.
16 August 1613
Six days. It's too long and at once too short.
I'm starting to feel nervous about this. What if my mother actually hurts me or what if she strangles me again? I hate not being able to breathe more than anything else. What if I don't make it out of my house on my birthday or ever again?
I'm scared.
17 August 1613
Five days. Less than a week.
My hair's been a rat's nest lately. I need to brush it, but I just don't have the willpower. I'd ask Dolora, but I don't want to burden her any more than I already do. I don't even mean to. I don't want to be a burden, yet I am, and that's making all this guilt so much worse. I mess everything up. My parents' marriage, my mother's life, my birth parents, my friends, my loved ones…I'm such a mess.
18 August 1613
Four days. I feel sick.
I haven't been so hungry recently and even though Sigmun and Simonn make me eat dinner, I don't eat much at supper or breakfast. I just don't feel like eating. And I've been forgetting to chew mint leaves before bed, which means my breath always tastes horrible in the mornings. At least I remember the mint leaves then.
19 August 1613
Three days. Three days to freedom or doom.
Oh, that sounds melodramatic. But it's true. She'll either kill me or leave. I suppose death would be a sort of freedom, but I don't want to die. Though I'm sure they don't need me the way I need them, I couldn't stand to leave the ones I love. I'm not going to die; I won't let Mother kill me. I'll fight her tooth and nail until I escape.
20 August 1613
Two days. Just two days until I'm free from my mother, one way or another.
21 August 1613
Tomorrow. I'm dreading it, and yet, I can't wait. I want to be free and yet I fear freedom.
I suppose I don't really have a choice.
22 August 1613
Bloody hell. What a day.
Today, when I woke up, I realized I was eighteen and I still hadn't gotten married (obviously), so I prepared myself for a fight. Mother was furious, unsurprisingly.
"GET DOWN HERE!"
I sighed and shouted, "GIVE ME A DAMN MOMENT, I'M NOT EVEN DRESSED!" I didn't listen to her grumbling while I laced up my bodice and did everything I normally do in the morning. (I don't sleep in my bodice. It's uncomfortable and Dolora says it's bad for you.)
Anyways, I went downstairs and ate breakfast and kept turning over what I'd say in my head. I had to say something to refute her.
She didn't say anything until about eight, when I was going to leave for Sigmun and Dolora's.
"Come here. Right now."
I sighed, braced myself, and turned around. "What the hell do you want?"
"You have to get married. You know it."
"I don't want to!"
"You're so useless! You're hopeless! No one will ever want to love you! Your only chance is to make a respectable marriage and you know it!"
"You don't know anything! There is someone who loves me and we're going to get married!"
"You rotten liar! Men can't love women the way we love them! They use women and throw them out like old shoes! Don't kid yourself, you stupid girl!"
"I am eighteen years old, Mother! And I've spent most of those years learning how to not depend on you or anyone else!"
"How could anyone even love you? You're ugly, you try to be clever, you're hopeless and useless and ungrateful and helpless and you're outspoken and disobedient! No one will ever love you! You know what? Your father and I never wanted you! They paid us to take you in! They paid us! Your father was going to come home, he was going to stay home, you know that? My husband was going to stay here and we were going to be fine! Then that damn recession hit and we had to take you in and he had to go out trading. We were paid! And then he left and threw me aside like that man will to you!"
"Don't you get it? I have people who love me and you just can't stand that you're heartbroken and I'm not going to be!"
"You're an idiot! An absolute idiot! You're a double-crossing, lying, two-faced failure of a daughter!"
"You're not my mother! You didn't raise me!"
"Yes I did! I made you food and—"
"No you didn't! You hardly gave me enough to survive! You know that crazy apothecary you called a witch? She raised me! And she raised me better than you ever did!"
"You're rotten to the core! You're ugly and horrible and if you ever find anyone who'll even try to care about you, they'll be gone before you can say I do!"
"I hate you! Why do you do this to me?"
"Because it's true! I've never told you a lie, unlike you!"
"You lied to me when you said you were my mother! You're not my mother and I sure as hell am not your daughter!"
"Then get out! Get out of my house! You don't belong here and you never have!"
"I never want to see you again!"
"THEN GET THE HELL OUT!"
"FINE!" I stormed out and I ran to Sigmun and Dolora's and once I got there, I collapsed on the floor and started sobbing. I don't even know why. I never loved Mother, and I still don't love her, and I don't regret that I'll never see her again. Well, maybe I do a little. I just feel a little bad for her, that she feels so used and unloved. It doesn't justify anything, of course, but I feel bad for her.
But I won't see her again. I won't ever tell her that there was someone who at least felt something for her.
Anyways, I was sitting just inside the door, bawling my eyes out, and Dolora came over to me with a cup of tea and said, "Happy birthday, Dianna dear."
I took the tea and I must've looked so stupid, like a three-year-old who doesn't know how to lace up her shoes yet. "Thanks, Dolora."
"Any time, dear." She held out her hand to help me up and I took it gratefully because I was just so tired of all this, of always being angry and always being sad and always being so damn useless.
I curled up on the couch with the tea and a blanket and just sat there for a long time, because I was so heartsick I didn't think I'd ever want to move again.
Dolora didn't go into town today (I guess). Maybe she anticipated this. I heard her making something in the kitchen and then she walked into the library with a bowl of chicken soup and something sweet, a cookie or something. She sat next to me and said, "Dianna dear?"
"Hm?"
"Have something to eat. You look peaky."
"Thanks, Dolora."
"You're welcome."
I picked up the soup and tried to eat some of it, but my stomach felt sick, too. Dolora sat next to me for a while before she said, "Would you like to talk about it?"
"I…I guess so." I didn't say anything, and I couldn't think of anything to say, so I sipped some of the soup (it was very good). "I…it's just…I…She never even wanted me!" I just blurted that, and I guess it's because that was on my mind the most. "Neither of them did, they got paid to take me, no one ever wanted me! I was never supposed to be born! And then…and then…I'm still the same useless, worthless idiot I was yesterday except that now I don't even have a mother or a father and…and she's right, no one should love me, she's always been right…I don't deserve any of this, and I don't deserve him or you and I certainly don't deserve any of this, or anyone being so nice to me…and I know I shouldn't hate her, but I can't help it, and every time she'd try to get me to fit her mold of what I should be I can just tell she doesn't love me, she's never loved me, I don't even know why she hates me so much. And I know Father doesn't care about me, he doesn't even know my name, and I don't care about him either and I know it's horrible but I just can't do anything right and I can't love them…I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't get food, or fabric, or anything else, and I'm going to starve to death…I'm going to starve because I can't support myself, I'm so damn useless…" I started crying again and I felt Dolora hug me like she does when she knows I'm sad.
"Dianna dear, you don't have to be what anyone else wants you to be. You have every right to your own thoughts. No one can punish you for what's in your head. You're not going to starve. You're going to be able to find a job, and I will help you if you need it. And you certainly don't have to love anyone who hurts you. You deserve love, Dianna dear. Alright?"
I nodded, but I wasn't sure if I believed her or not.
"Look at me, Dianna."
I did, and she said, "You are a smart, competent, kind, important, beautiful young woman. Anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong." I nodded again, and she was so serious that I desperately wanted to believe her. It's just so hard sometimes, to believe anything good about myself.
"Where're Sigmun and Simonn?"
"In the market, running errands. You just worry about yourself now."
I nodded again and she stood to do something, I don't know what. I was so tired that I fell asleep on the couch, curled up like a child, and slept for three hours.
When I woke up, Sigmun was shaking me. "Dianna?"
"Mm."
"Deedee, c'mon, wake up."
"No."
"I have something for you."
"Better be good. I feel horrible."
"That's no way to feel on a birthday. Come on. It'll be great, I promise."
"Fine."
He took my hand and led me behind a bookshelf. "Cover your eyes." I did and a couple seconds later, he said, "Okay, open them."
I opened my eyes and he was holding a stack of three books. "I got you some books…I thought you'd like these."
"Really? You mean…to keep?"
"Mm-hmm. Happy birthday!"
"Thank you so much!" I threw my arms around him and hugged him close. I don't know why, but I was such a mess that I'm not sure it really mattered. He stumbled a little and tried to hug me back, except that he was holding a stack of books.
I took the stack and noticed that the one on top was smaller, a journal. An empty one.
"A journal?"
"I thought you might need another one."
"How'd you know I keep a journal?"
"You brought it with the city. Looked pretty worn. I thought you'd need a new one by now." He shifted awkwardly, like he was nervous. I put the stack of books down on the bookshelf, cupped his cheek with one of my hands, and kissed him softly.
"So was it better than sleeping?" he asked once I broke away.
"Very much so."
"Good." He grinned and we walked to the kitchen, where Dolora was making dinner and Simonn was chopping carrots. "Hey, Dianna."
"Hi, Simonn. How are you?"
"Eh. Got any ideas to get my parents to calm down about the fact that Isabella's going to grammar school with Thomas and Robert and Richard?"
"No, sorry."
"S'alright. How're you?"
"Pretty miserable, come to think of it."
"How come?"
"My mother stormed out today and I'm never going to see her again."
"That sounds like a good thing."
"Think again. She's horrible and she was screaming again. Not even drunk this time." I sighed and sat down. "Want any help?"
"It's alright, dear," Dolora said. "Dinner's almost ready."
I stayed for dinner, of course. Simonn gave me a whole penny, like with Sigmun, and some concoction he said his mother uses to keep her hair from getting tangled and he said it smelled like peppermint, so he thought it'd be nice. It's stunning how well my friends know me.
I still don't know what I'm going to do, though. I might stay over tonight if no one minds because I dread going back to that empty, cold house that's never really been my home. I just so much prefer being at their house. It's so nice being somewhere where I don't have to worry for my safety and sanity every second.
23 August 1613
It stormed today, a huge and loud storm thick with thunder and rain and even though Sigmun said I was crazy, I went to stand in the rain because it was warm and lovely and it felt so good on my skin, making everything feel like it was manageable and even trivial. I could live in my world of light and sound and water for just a little while, escape everything Mother's ever said and done, everything Father never did and should have done, everything people tell me about how to live my life, everything. I love storms. I love letting the world just be light and sound, no things or people to deal with. As much as I love Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora, and as much as I want to spend time with them, I like letting it all go because then I can let go of Mother, too.
It's always temporary, but it leaves me feeling refreshed because I inevitably see those I love right after a storm and then all I have to think about is them and myself and no one else. I like freedom; I don't think I'll ever crave it any less.
And it's over now. I'm free from my mother forever.
It's incredible how light I feel.
24 August 1613
I stayed over at Sigmun and Dolora's last night because I didn't want to go back and see my house so empty and cold. I just couldn't stand it. But I have to head back today. I have to go back to my empty house and just live with it. I'll need to find a real job. Or sell the silver or something (but I'd rather save that for an emergency). Maybe Mother stashed some money somewhere I can dig up and use. I'm going to need to support myself, probably even after I get married if I do marry Sigmun. He'll have trouble finding a job, I know it. People wouldn't want to hire someone illegitimate, which I think is crazy.
Dolora gave me a container of tea and a teacup to take home. She said it's a birthday present. I'm very thankful for that; my house might not feel so cold. She also told me to take a book or two home. So I added one of hers to the two Sigmun gave me and resolved to bring it back in a week. Books will be nice to have; they'll make my now-empty house feel more like home.
25 August 1613
I slept reasonably well last night, despite a still constant stream of nightmares. I think just knowing that I'm safer than I have been in years gives me some sense of lightness. And I've just been feeling so good since that thunderstorm and since Mother left. I wonder if it's a temporary relief, or if this will last. I hope it lasts.
26 August 1613
I still feel pretty damn good today and it's almost disorienting because I haven't felt good like this since…actually, I can't remember the last time I felt like this. How odd.
Anyways, we went swimming in the river and it was lovely because I felt like I was floating and I don't get to feel light all that often and this time, the weightlessness and the breathlessness made me forget.
27 August 1613
I'm out of food and it occurs to me that I am quite good at hunting, though I haven't been able to practice much recently. I think I still have a bow and arrows. I could hunt for my food instead of getting a job. My reflexes must have gotten better from my mother and I know I am relatively agile. This might work!
We went to the creek today and ate berries and sat in the sun and I felt so wonderfully light and free and alive and I've never felt so good in my life. And Simonn left early to walk his siblings home from school, so I stayed by the creek with Sigmun and I kissed him like I do and it felt wonderful.
28 August 1613
Today Dolora had me sit down and she brushed out my hair with that peppermint oil concoction Simonn gave me and even though it took forever, my hair looks the best it ever has, all shiny and clean and lovely. My hair looks healthy, if that makes sense. When sick people stumble to Dolora's door because no other doctor will treat them when they have no money, their hair always looks thin and ill, like the illness of their bodies is everywhere. My hair has looked like that for the past few months and now it's already looking full and healthy again.
I think today I smiled for real for the first time in at least a month.
29 August 1613
Feeling good is so alien. Feeling unafraid is even stranger. I feel like I am a stranger to myself, all full of feelings I haven't felt in years. That knot of resentment and worry and dread in my chest that makes breathing so hard seems to be slackening somewhat and I didn't even realize I was holding my breath quite so literally. I've even been tying my bodice looser because my breath seems to take up more space in my chest.
I didn't realize how tight the knot in my chest was until it started to loosen.
30 August 1613
Dolora asked me a whole bunch of questions today about how I'm taking care of myself. She asked me what I usually eat for breakfast and supper and everything and if I chew mint leaves before bed and if I sleep with my bodice on and all sorts of questions about my health like that. She usually does that once a year and nothing changes. I still would never wear my bodice to sleep and I still eat the same things I spend my days the same way and I am utterly dull and uninteresting as ever. The only defining qualities I can think of for myself are that I can read and write and that I can climb trees fairly well.
I wonder if someday I might define myself as something more.
31 August 1613
I'm still alive. How strange. I didn't think I'd still be alive. I didn't think I'd ever see the other side of my eighteenth birthday. It's strange; what am I now? So much of my life has been about my war with my mother that I'm not quite sure what I'll do with my time now. Without her, I can be part of my real family. I can let my old family and my blood family go and be part of that family.
I never thought cutting something out of my life could feel so good.