Song: My Sacrifice - Creed
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July 12th, 1681
My Dearest Confidante,
What am I to do? Simmons was here again. Except, he wasn't. Oh, it's all so confusing, but I heard him in my head again, but this time I didn't see him in either his cat form or his human form. He spoke to me and directed me to go into the attic. I was so stupid to even think of following his direction! I know nothing about him, short of him saving my life the week before Beltane.
Anyway, I did as he bid and climbed the stairs to the attic. When I got there, I heard him again. "Find your mother's letters. Look for a golden box with scales carved into the top." It didn't take long for me to find the box in question. Inside were about four or five pieces of paper, all neatly folded. I took out one and opened it.
My mother addresses the letter to me! Well, not me exactly. Mother was writing to her unborn child, but according to the date. She would have been carrying me at the time. I skimmed the letter while in the attic, but what surprised me the most was a drawing. A portrait of some kind. Simmons! The resemblance to the dark-haired, dark-eyed man and the little black cat was unmistakable.
My mother knew Simmons. I am back in my bedroom now, along with the letters. I enclose them with you, my dear friend, for safekeeping. Not that they will stay safe for long. I am sure Father and Antoinette search my room. Especially Antoinette. Vicious cow. She may be my step-mother, but she can sing if she thinks I will ever call her Mummy as she wishes.
Mummy indeed. I am twenty-five years of age! The indignity of it. Oh, dear, I am sorry! Look what I've done! I let my anger get the better of me, and I pierced a hole through your lovely paper. I'll try to be more careful in future. You are my only true friend. I must be cautious not to mistreat you. Someday soon, I will read Mother's letters and share them with you.
Goodbye for now, my friend. The bell has just rung for dinner. Honestly, knowing I can share my secrets with you keeps me sane. How else can I stand that simpering wretch, leaning against Father like he is all she could ever need. I can't be sure, but I think she fears me. Good. Maybe she will leave me alone. Oh, I can't stop thinking about Mother's letters! I hope I can keep quiet about them. Maybe...maybe Simmons might tell me some more about them. I must be losing my mind! Wanting to see Simmons again?
Forever Yours,
Delphine Mayfair
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