January 1894

January 13, 1894

Dearest Laenia,

I wish my Friend many happy returns of her birthday. This diary is my gift to you for your fourteenth birthday. It is my sincere hope that this diary helps you with your nightmares as well as mine does for me. Write of your good days and bad, your nightmares and your dreams. I find writing my frustrations helps me to forget them, and writing my joys helps me to remember them.

I write letters to my husband at least once a week in my diary, even though he could never read them. You may write in this diary as if you are writing letters as well, or telling a story, or just recording your thoughts, or any way you want. Write as often as you find yourself with moments worth recording.

This diary is for you and you alone. No others at Saint Nicholas need even know of this book's existence. Keep it hidden so that you can write secrets that even your brother does not know, if there are any, without fear of others reading them. Do not, however, let this diary cause you to keep secrets you would have otherwise shared. Please continue to confide in me when you need an ear, and, even more importantly, in Toryn. I have always found that you Olcabhain twins are at your best when you are unified in knowledge and purpose.

I have written enough in this diary meant for your own words. If I write any more I will need to use another of your pages. I leave the rest for you to use as you see fit.

Your affectionate Friend,

Grace Collins

Saturday, 13 January 1894

Sister Grace was most kind to give me this diary, but I do not think it will help to write in it. She has been nice to Ryn and me ever since she arrived last year. If Sister Mary Maxwell gave me this I would not trust it, but Sister Grace must truly believe a diary will help me. I'm going to try to write, for her sake.

I don't know what to write though. She said to write about my good days. I don't have good days. I'm happy sometimes when it's just Ryn and me, or when I can be alone to read, but that doesn't happen much. She said to write about bad days as well, but I don't want to. I'd have to think about Lizzie calling me names, or Sister Mary Maxwell having me clean the floor after Alison pushed me carrying soup.

My dreams never make sense, except for the nightmare of mum and dad. I hate that more than anything. Sister Grace says writing about it will help but how can she know? She only knew Samuel for a few months before she lost him. I lost mum and dad after eight years. She didn't see Samuel die, I saw them burn alive. She doesn't know how much it hurts to lose someone I loved so much.

This isn't working. I feel even worse now. I'm sad about my parents. I'm even madder at Alison. I'm mad at myself for writing something bad about Sister Grace. Samuel's death must have been terrible for her too. She loved him, right? She married him after all, even if it was just one day. Sister Grace wouldn't marry someone without loving them.

I don't think I'm going to write anymore.