Everyone else has gone to bed but I can’t sleep. I feel like I need to absorb this feeling of home. I know that William’s home will be mine now, but it won’t be the same. I guess I am just a little nostalgic even though I have not yet left.
I have lived in these rooms since I was three. I want to remember it just as it is. Even the draft from under the door, the loose brick in the hearth, and the ink stains on this writing desk are precious to me.
I used to sit right here, on Mother’s knee, as she read letters from her brothers and her parents. They would wrap me in warm blankets and lay me near the fire when I was sick. Milly and I used to hide behind the door and try to frighten Father when he came in from work. All these events feel more important now then they ever did.
Oh, I guess I am just being silly. I have an exciting and beautiful life ahead of me.
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on Tuesday, November 17, 2009
at Tuesday, November 17, 2009
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The diary of Elizabeth Whetherby - A gothic mystery.
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