From the Diary of Trilliapa Gadrich
Year 144, 8th day of summer.
My name is Trilliapa Gadrich.
I will begin by saying that I am not an eloquent speaker or extraordinarily
brilliant or quick and witty. In fact, the word that fits me best would be
emotionless, but that’s just not right either because I will try to let out my
thoughts and feelings in this book. I’ve been thinking about how distant I
am from sharing my emotions, and I’ve decided to give this journal a try. If
these entries work, maybe I’ll write more. Well, I haven’t got anyone else to
confide in, do I? Let me explain:
I might as well start my story with my age. I am eleven, and, according
to my mother,very well read. Brone, my Father, is the cruelest person in
all of Eretz. He used to be a Senator of some importance, until he took to
playing cards and left the Senate in disgrace. Then, when he squandered all
our family’s money gambling, he took to drinking as well. In his drunken
state, he assumed my mother and I had wasted the money. My mother had
to work hard to keep us in the middle class, and Brone, (I refuse to call him
“father”) took all his anger out on us, for in his drinking he didn’t realize we
weren’t poor. He would beat me for every little thing. He did the same to my
mother.
A few weeks ago, we packed up so I could go fishing with my mother and
Brone. He soon drank a little liquor, then a lot. In a fit of anger he struck my
mother, sending her tumbling to the side of the boat. He shoved her again.
Screaming, my mother’s skirts flew up and over the side, her golden blonde
hair flying. Then, before my eyes, she disappeared under the waves.
I yelled for her ‘til I lost my voice altogether. That was when I knew I had
to escape. But I wasn’t going to leave home unprepared.
That night I went down to the cellar where Brone kept the weapons he
used to beat me, and looked long and hard for one of use. I searched until
my eye fell upon a truncheon, a long, thin, curved, metal rod with a spiked
cross guard. As soon as I spotted it, I knew I had to try it out. I took it up and
felt its weight in my hands. It was heavy, but if I trained hard, I knew I could
master it.
A week later, I packed only the necessities and took off. Where? I didn’t
know. But I found myself soon out of food and water and looking like a living
skeleton. Maybe I wasn’t as well prepared as I had thought.
I’d been wandering through town without any purpose when I found the
orphanage. It seemed like a good enough place to stay. I certainly gives me
enough to write about.
A day here is simple: wake up, eat, clean, clean, clean more, eat, bed.
I arrived early several mornings ago and came face to face with the ugliest,
fattest woman I had ever met. She took one look at me, said a terrible oath
that I never heard before, and hit me.
“Do as I say, and you won’t get in trouble.”
I was still a bit surprised and outraged at this greeting. My face stung where
she slapped me, and I nodded automatically.
When I was shown my room, I was very glad I was good at hiding my
feelings. The girls, perhaps thirty in all, were packed into a single small, dark,
unclean room. I thought I saw a mouse run into a corner. The girls all looked
like living skeletons themselves, so I fit in well.
A girl about my age glanced up when I entered and walked over to where I
stood.
She was pretty in a different sort of way, her dirty blonde hair making a
striking contrast to her bright green eyes. She wasn’t exactly the kind of
person that would turn heads in the street as my mother would, but in a way,
she sort of reminded me of her.
“Hello,” she said. Her eyes shone in delight at meeting someone new.
“Hi.” I met her gaze with directness (or whatever you call it). Her hair
looked a little like Mother’s, yet she had a stronger build. This girl could hold
her own in a fight.
“I’m Quipeneay,” she said, looking me up and down, “but you can call me
Quip.”
I kept my blank expression. “I’m Trilliapa, but you can call me Trill.”
Quip grinned and pulled something from her sleeve. I tried not to back
away when I saw she had a knife. She flipped it up and down with ease.
“So,” she smirked, “what brings you here?”
She’s trying to test me, I realized, my mind racing, she wants to see if I can hold
my own. And after years of being pushed around by Brone, I wanted to know
that too.
I swallowed my sudden urge to run away from the threatening girl and
faced her calmly. Before I could get a word in though, a shrill whistle echoed
up to us. “Dinner!” The room erupted into a flurry of activity as every girl
tried to beat the other down to eat. I simply followed the line, trying to act
normal but sensing Quips eyes boring into me. I’ll prove myself to her. Very
soon.
***
13th day of summer
These days can be so boring! If it weren’t for my recent escapade, I would
try to escape. Just yesterday, I had a run-in with an older boy who was
brutally forcing one of the other children to do his chores. He was tall and
muscular, and I think I remember someone calling him Redge. He had a small
boy pinned against the outside wall where the wash usually was hung, and
honestly reminded me too much of Brone. This time maybe I could be more
than a helpless bystander?
“Do it!” He growled angrily while the poor boy squirmed in vain against
his grip. I set my load of laundry down on the dirt.
“Why don’t you do it yourself?” I called over.
Redge whirled around, dropping the boy. Seeing me, he smiled a cruel
smile and said,“You’d better scram, little girl or you’ll help him.”
He started toward me menacingly.
“Run, run!” he taunted.
I froze. My legs wanted to take his advice but my head told me to stay. He
was almost upon me. Trying to buy time, I asked, “Why did you make him do
your work? it’s not right.” I sounded like an imbecile, but couldn’t think of
anything else.
“It’s not right.” he mimicked, pushing his shaggy blond hair from his eyes.
By now he was practically upon me.
“Just leave him alone.” I said, my voice shaking a bit.
He noticed and grinned.“Who’s gonna stop me, you?”
I stepped forward, already feeling for my truncheon.
“Come on little girl! Come and get me!”he growled.
Crouching, he leapt at me. I knew what to do because Brone often used
this method when taking me by surprise. I was ready. I pulled my truncheon
out of my dress and stepped out of the way. However, he seemed to know
that’s what I’d do, for he reached out his arm and took me down with him. I
slammed the truncheon down on his head viciously and jumped back up off
him. He stilled abruptly and at first I thought I’d killed him, but I saw him
breathing shallowly in pain. I hit him again, a knockout blow.
“That will bring him out of his misery,” I said, smiling wickedly, “Or, at least
‘til he wakes up.”
Sighing with relief, I slipped my truncheon back into my dress. Then,
turning, I walked to the doorway. A long brown dress caught my attention.
Quip stood in my path, eyes alight,
“Good job.” She said and followed me inside. I did it!
