(no subject)
I hate Erik...
I know it is wrong to hate another--and there are times I can honestly hear Father Mullohand's voice in my head when I think such things--but I hate the man. He seems to derive such pleasure from tormenting me! There is not a thing I can do right in his eyes and I do not think that I deserve such censure or such treatment on his part. I've done nothing to the man. He has even refused my requests for assistance with a simple alteration to my room, and I thought to flatter him by asking! He is the handiest that I've seen with such things, but no...he flat refused. I took it upon myself to install the servant's bells outside my room so that I can hear should someone ring for me in the night. I very much doubt that it will happen, but never the less...
What bothers me the most is this show of false and mocking concern for my person. "You value your rest, don't you?" Yes, I value my rest, but I am here to be of service and if I was remiss in my duties, then I'd hear about that from him! It seems that I am damned if I do, and damned if I do not in his eyes.
The other night...it was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. I merely asked him where I should leave a basket of food for Dr. Jekyll and he then proceeded to nearly convince me that I'd starved the poor doctor and Mr. Hyde to death! It is a good thing that I had not been near any knives or I fear I would have done him an injury.
******************************************************************************************************
Only a few moments ago, I returned to the corridor to see if the basket had been taken and indeed it had. And--thank God!--there is a letter attached from the doctor himself, thanking me. He is alive--perhaps not well--but he is trying to overcome the disease. The relief was...in a word--sweet.
There...was also a letter attached from Mr. Hyde. It's contents I shall not divulge, even in this diary. Needless to say...well...there is little to say...
Ah, and there's the Father's voice in my head again...intoning upon sin and damnation. I don't believe my Bible would be a suitable hiding place for his letter. Best to keep it in a drawer.
And now I cannot stop smiling. Oh, please let no one ring for me now.
I know it is wrong to hate another--and there are times I can honestly hear Father Mullohand's voice in my head when I think such things--but I hate the man. He seems to derive such pleasure from tormenting me! There is not a thing I can do right in his eyes and I do not think that I deserve such censure or such treatment on his part. I've done nothing to the man. He has even refused my requests for assistance with a simple alteration to my room, and I thought to flatter him by asking! He is the handiest that I've seen with such things, but no...he flat refused. I took it upon myself to install the servant's bells outside my room so that I can hear should someone ring for me in the night. I very much doubt that it will happen, but never the less...
What bothers me the most is this show of false and mocking concern for my person. "You value your rest, don't you?" Yes, I value my rest, but I am here to be of service and if I was remiss in my duties, then I'd hear about that from him! It seems that I am damned if I do, and damned if I do not in his eyes.
The other night...it was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. I merely asked him where I should leave a basket of food for Dr. Jekyll and he then proceeded to nearly convince me that I'd starved the poor doctor and Mr. Hyde to death! It is a good thing that I had not been near any knives or I fear I would have done him an injury.
******************************************************************************************************
Only a few moments ago, I returned to the corridor to see if the basket had been taken and indeed it had. And--thank God!--there is a letter attached from the doctor himself, thanking me. He is alive--perhaps not well--but he is trying to overcome the disease. The relief was...in a word--sweet.
There...was also a letter attached from Mr. Hyde. It's contents I shall not divulge, even in this diary. Needless to say...well...there is little to say...
Ah, and there's the Father's voice in my head again...intoning upon sin and damnation. I don't believe my Bible would be a suitable hiding place for his letter. Best to keep it in a drawer.
And now I cannot stop smiling. Oh, please let no one ring for me now.