March 15, 1801
I met a lovely man today. Oh boy, I hope I can see him again but I have got to focus on other things and try not to get caught up in boys. At least that’s what father says.

March 27, 1801
He arrived with flowers and a gentle smile. He was indeed a pretty face, but he was also a gentleman. I felt feelings for this man, who I hadn’t known long immediately begin to develop. I began to wonder if love at first sight was, in fact, real. If it is real, could this be it? I ought to not be so foolish, but I just can’t help it. He has such charm and it makes me oblivious to all but him. I hope to not make father mad.

April 2, 1801
I saw him again today. He was as sweet as before. He makes me quite happy, which is surprising since I am such a Debbie Downer. I have never met someone so wonderful, so handsome, so utterly perfect. He’s so flawless and sweet but I wonder if these characteristics attract other women. I’m almost positive that other women fancy him. How could one not fancy a man as such?
I hope he doesn’t treat the other ladies of the town the way he treats me. It’s so childish of me to say such thing but it’s true. I want to be the only one he wants, but again I am quite young.
He gives me more respect than most men give any women at all. Usually when a man shows respect for a woman it’s because he greatly fancies her. I am very grateful for the way he treats me. I am very lucky to have met such a man as him. He is grand and honest with me. What more could a girl ask for? I hope I get to see him again soon.

April 15, 1801
I haven’t written anything in some time. I’ve been spending time with Charles, the man I’ve been writing about. Just the other day he told me he loved me. I didn’t quite know what to say but my mind told me that I loved him too, so I said just that. I was taken by great surprise by those simple, yet delightful, words. I have yet to mention Charles to my father, though I have been tempted to do so.
He gave me a peculiar feeling, and I do mean this in a good way. He made me feel like I was dreaming, perhaps. I can’t think of a decent way to describe how he makes me feel. All I know is that I do, very much, love Charles. I want to spend every waking moment of every day with him and no one else.
After we exchanged our “I love you’s” he stole a kiss. It wasn’t a kiss like all others. It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t wasted. It wasn’t lustful. It was true, pure, and lovely. Not only did he steal a kiss but in that moment he stole my heart. Oh, how I adore that man.

May 3, 1801
I didn’t see him at all today or yesterday. I hope he’s okay. Maybe he finds me a bore. I know if I were him, I’d think the same. I never know what to do or say and I’m not as ladylike as a girl should be. I just hope he comes around soon before I die of this loneliness. 
On another note I have hinted to my father that I do fancy someone but he often gives me this glare, as if to get me quiet with his eyes. I suppose telling my father wouldn’t be the best idea just yet.

May 10, 1801
I saw him for the first time in a while yesterday. He explained that every day he has been caught up at work. I still don’t know what he does for work. He said it’s best if it stays a secret. I guess I understand that and I suppose I don’t have to know every aspect of his life. After all, I’m just some silly young girl.
I really wish that I fancied someone other than him. It’s so difficult to love him for he is going to be so wrapped up in work. What is a girl to do?
But despite not seeing him for a while he asked me to run away with him. He spoke of an abandoned home in the middle of the woods that was perfect for us and maybe even little ones to come so I wrote a note to my father. I didn’t tell him when or where I was going but that I was going. I told him I found love and that was that.

May 11, 1801
I moved in with Charles today. My father wasn’t fond of this at all. He even called him a gal-sneaker. I brushed off his comment because he didn’t know that Charles really did love me and he would never want anyone else. Besides, my father’s approval is no longer needed.
At first, and I won’t lie, I was hesitant about moving into this home. It is far into the woods. I had never been into the woods before and I had always been too scared. I never imagined I would live in such a frightful place, but I loved Charles so I decided to move in anyway. Despite the spooky scenery, the house was grand. The house was rather large but no matter the size it was very welcoming and comforting. The size of the house was big enough for a large family and the realization of this made ponder the thought of having children with Charles. It’s a silly thought and I know that, but it’s also wonderful.

May 15, 1801
Charles asked for my hand in marriage. I was flustered. I said yes. I’m so in love that I put timing aside. We’ll have a rather small wedding. It’s in a week. I’m beyond nervous. I love Charles so much.
He whispered in my ear after I said yes, saying “I can’t wait to make you mine”, and then kissed my cheek. His tone was rather harsh but I know that he meant no harm. Sometimes a tone is hard to control.

June 20, 1801
Our marriage has been wonderful so far. Well… I don’t really mean wonderful. We’ve had a few minor quarrels and he did get a tad bit violent, but he is the man and I’m the woman. I must come to terms with the fact that I am but a young girl and there are things I should and should not do. For example, I should always obey Charles since he is my husband and he owns me. I am nothing but a woman he owns, therefore I need to listen to him. I should not dare to speak my mind too often and I should never stand up for myself.  I don’t love him any less. A woman like me is lucky to have a man that treats me rather well.

August 30, 1801
Charles is not as sweet as I thought he was. He is not the same man I met in March. I’ve seen a whole other side to this person. I thought that it was just going to be minor arguments here and there, but it is far from that. He frightens me. The first weeks of our marriage were not bad; in fact they were happy. But suddenly he just changed. He went from loving and kind to violent and cruel. I haven’t wrote anything in a while in fear that he will catch me and find out that I’m writing about our business.
Just the other day I asked him to help tie up my corset and he started to do so but all of a sudden he pulls extremely tight and I couldn’t breathe. I begged him to stop but he said that he will tie it as tight as he wants, for he is in control.
At the moment he is wandering off in the woods. I suppose he’s out drinking. I’m afraid for his arrival. I don’t think I can bear this any longer.

October 1, 1801
He took my journal earlier. I had to go up to the attic to search for this damned journal. But I must write while I have it. It’s not like he’ll find out that I wrote anything in it because he doesn’t think there is even a slight chance of me finding it. I spend nights on the floor weeping and bleeding. I scream for help but no one comes, but then again we live in the woods. I have to get out. It’s as if the devil has taken over the man who I knew as Charles.

October 10, 1801
I “deserve” his abuse, he says. I know that this isn’t true. My mind is spinning. I’m constantly thinking about death. I worry he’ll kill me before I can get away or even take my own life.
I see him everywhere I go, even when he isn’t near. I feel his abuse even when he isn’t hitting me or torturing me. Marks from where the rope lay upon my skin will forever be. A black eye and unwanted touch is the symbol of our love. I sense his presence in every way possible no matter the distance between us. I’m scared. I hear him and see him all the time.

October 31, 1801
He has locked me in the attic. I don’t know how long I will be kept away. He said he is doing this for my own good. While roaming the attic I noticed a door that seemed purposely hidden. It was covered with junk and boxes full of old toys and pictures. Dare I go in it?

November 2, 1801
I’m still locked away. No food, just water. No light; just a tiny, dirty window facing the backyard. I often sit in front of the window thinking about everything in my life. I realized that I rushed into our marriage. I was utterly blinded and I wasn’t using my brain properly. This is my fault. Women deserve what they get if they make such rash decisions as I.
I got up the nerve to open the mysterious door. I wish I hadn’t. There were three or four flights of stairs that led to what I think was the basement, but it may have very well been a room on the first floor that I was unaware of. The room was dark but a candle was still lit and it illuminated the majority of the room. The room was wide and a large table, with straps on it, was in the center. There were doctor’s utensils lying next the table and a black book on a table beside it. I opened the book, which had no title, and there were drawings and descriptions in a language I did not know.  The drawings were of three different women. One of whom was dark skinned, one who was a child, and me. The pictures started off beautiful and as I continued turning the pages they seemed to grow dark. By the final page of each woman they were pulled apart and sewn together in a different manner. It looked as if Charles was performing some sort of ritual to create a new being.
Does Charles worship the devil? Are the drawings examples of what he plans on doing to me? No. It can’t be like that at all. He’s a horrible man, indeed, but is he truly that horrible?

November 17, 1801
He let me out. He kissed me and told me he loved me. He apologized and said it would never happen again. I laughed at him uncontrollably and that’s when he slapped me and told me not to be so disrespectful.
Later on we were laying in bed and he started crying. I tried to comfort him and calm him down but he proceeded to put his hands around my neck. I managed to wiggle free. I told him I loved him and he said he was sorry, once again, and hugged me. I can’t think straight. I feel his hands on my neck like they are still there. I have yet to ask him about what I saw.

December 1, 1801
I mentioned the room and his eyes widened. He told me it was for his work. For split second I believed him but then I remembered the book and how I was in it. When I brought up the book, he stabbed me.I now have a wound in my shoulder. I remember, quite distinctly, the look in his eyes. He was no longer fully in there. This was not him at all. His eyes were as black as coal. He said “if you want to know about my work so much we can just speed up the process” and he took me down to the basement. He strapped me into the bed.

December 10, 1801
He left me alone in the basement for 10 days but I managed to wiggle out of the straps. I will not die in his hands. But he, most definitely, deserves to suffer. I am running away for now until I have everything planned out and I’m taking my journal with me.
December 24, 1801
I have it all planned out. I know what I’ll do, how I’ll do it, and where I’ll dispose of him. I will not be used for some satanic ritual and I will not put up with Charles any longer. I am going back to the house tomorrow and Charles will become a mere figment of everyone’s imagination.

December 26, 1801
I see it when I close my eyes. The blood spraying all over the place. The look of his severed body. I remember how it felt to simply lift that axe. I was powerful. I was in control. His fate was in my hands and mine was no longer in his.
I fooled him like he fooled me. I leaned in for a kiss and told him just how sorry I was. I made him think all he had done was fine. I even told him that he was a wonderful, godly man. I even said he could use me for his ritual-experiment. I looked at him in his coal eyes and kicked him in his privates. He toppled over and I laughed more than I had ever laughed before. I picked up the axe and went for his left arm and then his right. Then I chopped the bottom half of him into pieces slowly. I made him feel the pain. I made him suffer. He begged for mercy and I cut off his worthless head.
I dragged every limb out into the snow leaving a sparkling red trail. I took his body as far as possible. I came back to the grand house, that I get to call my own now, and scrubbed the house clean. Goodbye, Charles. You will not be missed, my love.