August 16th, 1868
I’m not really sure what people write about in their journals. I have many guesses though. I think some people write in their journals about events during their day. Some people write about their feelings. I will probably write about both.
Today is my 794th birthday. Now, I know what you must be thinking. “She’s a vampire!” No, I am not. I am simply the daughter of a sorceress. A sorceress whose mother cracked the secret of immortality. I’m not trying to boast or anything, because I certainly can’t tell you how she did it. My mother hasn’t taken the opportunity to tell me such things.
I think, to start my journal, I'll write about my family. There are a lot of people in my family. (It would be best to write down all of them so that I can keep straight who I’m writing about at the time.)
Firstly, there is my grandmother, but Mother refuses to say anything about her. I simply know she existed. I know nothing about my grandfather, either, except for the fact that he died after my Mother was born. Personality wise, my grandmother was apparently a cruel woman. My father’s parents were very kind people, so I’m told. I at least know that much about them.
Then there are my parents, Monica and Roric. My parents are very quiet people. Though Mother has a powerful, steady voice when she chooses to speak and Father has a very kind, soft voice. He talks even less than Mother does. Mari says that Father used to talk more, back when she was truly young. Cory likes to remind Mari how old she is, taunting her with her 1,746 years of wisdom.
Then there are all of my siblings. I have nine brothers and sisters. From oldest to youngest, they are Boris, Coriolanus, Mariana, Caleb, Ophelia, Phaedra, Margit, Cory, me, Rion, and Lani.
Don’t ask me if I have favorites or not. I don’t. I love all of my siblings equally.
Actually, I’ve changed my mind. I hate Cory a bit. Mainly because he picks on me the most. It’s easy for him to make fun of me because we’re so close in age. (He’s three years older than me) I’ve gotten tired of it by now; after 700 years of it. You’d think when he turned 21 he would have matured, but no. He did not. Even now he’s still acts like a teasing teenager.
I like to think of myself as mature. I’m obviously more mature than Cory, but it’s not hard to be so. I’m above the younger twins maturity, Rion and Lani are also just man-children. Ophelia might be the most mature, after Mari of course. Ophelia’s very mature, and responsible. She’s trying to start a career of some sort on a whole other continent. She left for America in 1754. She wasn't the first to leave though. Sometime in the 1200s Coriolanus and his husband John crossed the Atlantic, looking for land. (It turned out Corin was right. English settlers later ventured over in the 1400s, then in the 1770s it was named a country, America.) They came back in the late 1500s, then traveled back over to America in 1654. Also in the 1400s, specifically 1415, Margaret left for Ireland (But before that she explored a lot of Europe). Then in 1657, Rion and Lani left for Ireland too. They split up in the 1700s: Rion stayed in Ireland and Lani decided to travel to the country of Canada.
We didn’t hear from Corin and John while they were across the sea. Not until they came back. They stayed away for several centuries, almost 400 years, so it was a bittersweet goodbye when they left for America again. Even though this time, they have a way to stay in contact with us, I still have no idea what they're doing.
I barely know anything about either of my two oldest brothers. Boris, after he got married to Ellen, left for a new start in another town. But that was before I was born. They come to visit every few years or so though. They also send gifts and such. Last I saw them, they were still managing the bookstore with their twin sons, Roric II and Jameson II (We call them Rorie and James; I believe they are 18 now).
My birthday today was pleasant as usual. I was with my family, and I recieved a few presents. I feel a little selfish for craving gifts. I probably should have grown out of the craving by now. I received this journal, of course (Mari and her husband, Wilhem’s gift), and Mother and Father promised me my favorite meal for dinner. Boris and Ellen gave me a book. I have too many books. A majority of the books in the library belong to me. The rest of them are Corin's (he began his collection when he turned 16, which, if you take in the fact that he’s two years older than Mari, is a long time to have been collecting books), and a hand-full belong to Mother.
Corin and John have always sent something for birthdays every year since they left in 1654, whether it’s a book, a painting or sketch (John is an exceptional artist), or even just a letter, there’s always something. Sometimes the gifts come a little late. I bet that will be the case this year, because there wasn’t anything in the letter box today.
Ophelia also sends gifts from America. It’s always clothes though. Never anything else. Clothes and a letter, as it has been for every birthday since she left. She gives Mother and Mari the prettiest clothes for their birthdays. Long, loose, flowing dresses that went out of style ages ago. Ellen tells me the dresses are stiff and tight nowadays.
Phaedra, her usual wispy self, gave me a pretty flower she found, a purple lily. Phaedra and Ophelia are twins, but not identical. We usually call them Fae and Fee, because Fae always has this look about her like she can read the stars and Fee wanted a nickname to match her. Mother says that Fae is just a little lost sometimes. Mari says she’s troubled. Cory says she has mental problems. I don’t know what I think about Fae.
Caleb, a brother of mine who is just as much a mystery to me as Boris and Corin, wished me a happy birthday in his latest letter to Mari. I only met him once, in the 1500s, when he returned after setting off on his own, just as Corin once had, over a hundred years ago. Caleb is a man of great spirit. He brought even more laughter into castle, and joked around with Cory and John. He never once flinched beneath Mother's gaze, and even had the courage to poke fun at Corin. I hope someday to see this brother of mine again. I remember smiling often in his joyous presence.
Margit sent me a little cat she carved from an old rafter she replaced in her attic. That’s what she wrote about in her letter. A whole page about the kind of rot, the length and width of the beam, and the work she did to replace it. Margit likes woodworking, she learned from Boris, who learned from Father. She runs a sawmill with her husband, Peter, in Ireland. They have a son and a daughter; Friedrich and Gertrude. The two of them are the complete opposite of their father, and very like Margit. Peter is very quiet and hardworking. Friedrich and Gertrude are both bold and passionate, Gertrude a bit more so. She's an adventurous girl. I'm certain she's been everywhere and I don't think she plans on settling down any time soon. Margit and Peter visit for the Holidays, but not always. They have grandchildren to take care of now, from Friedrich and his kind wife Maeve (Making Mother a great-Grandmother.)
I’m not sure if Cory got me anything for my birthday, but when I woke up this morning there was a delicately made kitten collar (a braided, dark green leather ring with a white daisy pattern around in) on the bedside table and a scrap of paper saying “For Lily” on it. I put it on my favorite kitten (currently; I've accepted the fact that cats don't stick around very long), Oakley. The reason I think this was from Cory is because everyone else denied knowledge of it. He also ignored me the whole day and didn’t look at me at dinner.
Lani sent me a hilarious letter, writing about his son, George. Rion also sent a letter. It was much shorter- it was just a “happy birthday” and an "I'm doing well, how are you?" But I appreciate it anyways.
For dinner, we had my favorite meal, as promised. Mashed potatoes, corn, rolls, and roast chicken. Thankfully there was one in the larder, so Father didn’t have to slaughter any chickens on my birthday. I hate that we have to do such a thing, but the meat is delicious.
Now I’m preparing for bed. I’ll probably read some of my new book tonight and nod off around eleven o’ clock. (It’s what I usually do.)
Goodnight.
Comments (0)
See all