I am sorry, diary, that I have not written in a while. Ever since I met Henri, the future has seemed so real and unavoidable. I do not want to get out of bed, and I cannot be bothered to pick up this book and write.
My mother has not bothered me in my bedroom because even when I am up, I refuse to help do anything around the house. If she is going to force me to be married and move away, I will no longer do anything else she asks of me. I have even refused to go to church.
I feel like something is truly wrong with me. I am getting married in 158 days, and I am so sad that I cannot leave my bed. Most girls would be so very excited. But I simply cannot be. I cannot stop crying over the life I am losing. I do not want to leave my family or Madeleine. I do not want to live with Henri.
Oh, diary, I cannot stop weeping. My pillows are covered in tears and pure sadness. I have not seen Madeleine in a fortnight because my family has been telling everyone that I am ill and she does not want to bother me. My sadness has only been sadder because of this. I ache to see my dear Madeleine, to hold her in my arms.
YOU ARE READING
My Dear Madeleine
Historical FictionAdélaïde, a 15-year-old girl living in Nouvelle France, befriends her older neighbour, Madeleine. Some historians would say... they were very good friends.
