September 4 -- Midnight
Dear Self,
It's getting harder and harder to love daddy. Even now I'm cowering and keeping as quiet as I can so he doesn't come back. I'm afraid; this is the third time he's beaten me this week. He used to be calmer, less likely to snap at me. At least before he used to take some of his anger on other servants. That's changed; they may have complained to someone important.
I feel like the boogyman's about to come out of my closet or from under my bed. I've been very paranoid recently, keeping my little candle behind a book and watching the crack under the door. No shadow. Good. I haven't even written about it until now. I'm still afraid he reads what I write. It's really hard to write with my bruised hand. I think my left's broken. No piano lessons tomorrow. Oh well.
And this morning went so well too. Princess Hanna came by today after her lessons to play with Pierce. I, of course, was there too and we got to run around in the garden together. Pierce fell down once, but I picked him back up and we went on our way. He's shorter than us so I think his fall is smaller. That might be why he didn't cry.
My candle is dripping on the page, so I should stop. I don't want to risk it anymore anyway. I hope father doesn't beat you anymore.
Daniel Xavier Ghold