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Milord was sleeping like thy babies in thy mother's arms, except without a lady holding him of course...who would want him?...And I, Abigail the servant had to continue with chores, like thee has done for mie whole life...

Erique, mie friend, but pity him, the son of my master, came to my chamber, smiling like he had just seen god himself, called to me,"Ay, Abigail, up you still? If thou is not, I'm certain I can go..." Of course, I grabbed his arm and slapped him as I did many times. Laughing, with, might I add, a handsome face, he threw a book of parchment paper unto mie sheet...

"Whats thou got here?" I ask in surprise.

"Open it and found out thee self, Abigail" he flashes his handsome smile once more.

"Oh! It is...it is..." Gosh, it was surely wonderful, but I hadn't known what it was

"Allright, I'll give you three words...Mother and first page."

I flipped the bloody book to the first piece of parchment immediately, for hearing about my mother made me terribly excited.

There, written in the most beautiful hand-writing I had ever seen in mie life, was of my mother's. Tears felt cool upon my face..

"Oh, thank you Er--" Sigh, he had left..very mysterious and cute if I do say so myself
Quite a nice gift, very nice indeed..but thou wast thee beginning...

Not surprising, a servant never had a quill or an ink bottle, so, mie wits told me to get one and write in it immediately

But thee only ink bottle was of milord, Berningham...I could not stand a second being in the same room as him, but thou needst to write in the parchment! My guts boiled..I creeped towards the bedroom of that fat smelly pig...

Ah ha! The bottle was on thee table next to his bed..but, drat, he was laying on the edge of the bed, near the blasted table!

"Breathe, breathe, thou needst it! thou needst it!"

My hand touched the bottle, he snored like the fat pig he is, and mie hand froze! I picked up thee bottle slow as can be...

Oh, did I tell thee about Gregory, a servant who hates the living daylights out of me? Yes, well...

Gregory came out of, I'm quite sure, nowhere, and he exclaimed,"Abigail! Thou reeeally shouldst be careful!" and runs like a bloody chicken laughing a hoot!

Startled, mie hand let go of the bottle...and splashed aaaaall over milord Bermingham's pig face!! I ran for thee exit, and he threw a shoe at me, blinded by the wretched ink, I tried to hurry thyself out of his room, but I took one more glance at him...his blooming face was covered all over with black ink! His eyes were squinted and thy lips cursed a blue streak! It was so hilarious! My snickers grew into bulging belly laughs,which was thy big mistake..

"What in thy name of--Aaaaabigail! Bloody hell!"

After that, I was whipped for two days in a row...and somehow that damn Gregory managed to convince the pig that I had this parchment...However, Erique, my dear angel of a friend, found out thee Bermingham was about to burn my parchment...I did not know of this foul deed yet....Erique switched my parchment, with another one, when I didst not know of it...

Bermingham came to mie room one night, and held, what I thought was my cherished parchment...

"No!! Milord! NO! Please! No, I beg of you sir!! PLEASE! It is my mother's! Did you not love her? NOOOOO!! PLEASE MILORD!!" I screamed with all thee heart, tears feeling cold upon mie cheek

"Hahaha! Thoust never must be disobedient to me, Bermingham! This twill teach you to be obedient now lady! The only reason thou hast kept you here instead of killing you Abigail is torture you! So be grateful, though many yells may not keep you from sound lashing!" Bermingham bellowed.

The parchment sizzled in the fire from the fireplace...Bermingham left me alone with mie tears flowing down mie face...

Erique, thy little angel explained to me his good deed, also explaining he had no time to tell me of it...I was grateful, and the dear friend even stole some ink for me and unveiled my mother's parchment to me once more, as if it were thy first time, which was bloody lovely!

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The whippings, I do say, were well worth it...though I got whipped a lot, emotionally I have a leg up on Bermingham....Thou hast never noticed mie writing in this very parchement, yes this very parchment, which is lovely...

Do you know my mother's relation to the dreadful Bermingham?....Oh drat, Thou hast remembered, I must be awake early at the crack of dawn tomorrow....Farewell, I shall inform you more later, Lady or Sir Diary...Ta ta!

Abigail

(HAPPINESS FLIES LIKE A BIRD)
Dear Diary,
Oh! Thou canst hardly contain thyself! Do you have an idea what has just happened? The Prince of this kingdom has uttered words to me today, though, I cannot understand why...

Sigh, of course the Prince shall never be my groom, my love...I wish it weren't so, but tis true...Why shouldst he pick me for thy bride? Ah, pish posh!

Silly, too bad I cannot erase the words I have uttered to you Lady or Sir Diary...for now you know my secret...Damn!..You shall not speak a word of this to anyone, right? Oh, but who would you converse with anyway? Haha

My goodness, not even my dear friend Erique knows of my fancying the prince...Yes, but he is a man, and would not understand..and I'm quite sure mie old maid friends would not understand, for thy is too old to even remember what thy ate for breakfast that day! My mother, bless her soul, perhaps would, but tis too late now...

Am I not alone in this poor world? For nobody understands my grief! I cannot be with a man, thy humble prince, for thy does not knoweth I'm alive! Princes, of course do not converse with servants at all...Oh Diary! Doth you know of ever liking someone, but yet they do not feel the same or even know thy exists?

Ah, as happiness flies like a bird, thy is flying away into thy own world! But soon thy is back here, with them darned Berminghams! as Happiness once flew around me, tis gone now, for I realize the Prince shall never fall for a lady such as thyself...
Dear Diary, please keep quiet about this matter, I wish to solve thy problem thyself..oh, one more thing Diary, are you a Lady or a Sir? By golly, why would my mother write to you?....Well, ta ta!

(OH! LAUGHTER ON THE WORST DAY!)
Dear Diary,
Goodness! Thou wouldst never ever believe what foul, yet sweet, things were bestowed upon thyself today!

Well, so thouself can understand, Lady or Sir Diary...wait, how is it that you can respond to me Lady or Sir Diary? Is thou just a keeper of secrets? By gum, that's pretty remarkable!...Anyhow, if twill understand, thou needst me to explain...

Thy first Happy Moment today, was at milord Bermingham's expense, which is quite hilarious, I might say...

Milord Bermingham, every wee morning goes to town to visit the lovely, handsome, angel, the prince of this here kingdom...oh, and it so happens that I, Abigail the servant, was watching him this morning...Do you know what thine eyes saw that very morning, besides thy handsome prince?

Hah! It was thy master, covered in horse droppings! I do not know how thy evil pig managed to get horse droppings unto his pig body, but who cares! And a lovely thing is that thy prince was bellowing from the incident! Oh, how his laughter made thine heart float!

Surely, however, after that incident, evil master was in the foulest of moods...and for that, I, who was not at all responsible for it, was whipped...Tis horrible a thing, but thy body could not help but laugh! I shall never forget this morning, ever!

Sigh, as I said before, I laughed on thy worst day...who's worst day was it of?..Poor Erique! My beloved friend! Now, doth cannot cry for him, tis not dead..

Erique was with thy dreadful master, and while I and mie prince laughed a streak, milord Bermingham scolded Erique and dragged him to the floor, trying to get up himself...though neither of them stood up, Erique hurt his poor leg...Thou didst not notice it then, for thy was captivated by prince's laughter..Ay, I felt so terrible, laughing when Erique was screaming for thy wretched pain!...But what wouldst I do anyhow? I twas not suppossed to be there!...

Thankfully, Erique is allright now, and thou hast explained what happened to him..Being thy little angel he is, he smiled and didst not think anything of it...To have a friend such as him, is quite a blessing...

Now with Erique forgiving me, I can focus on thy beautiful prince! I still can here his laughter, it is so wonderful...Maybe tomorrow I shall see him again, and Erique often tells me to utter words to thy prince, so maybe I shall tell my guts to come hither so I can...I needst to write, but thine eyes are closing...Parting is such sweet sorrow....

Abigail

(GREEN EYES OF JEALOUSY)
Dear Diary,
Woe is me!! Is thou able to see thine eyes of green, the "Jealousy Eyes"? Of what, you may ask Lady Diary? (I am not quite sure if you are a sir or lady yet, Diary, but surely only ladies can keep secrets,am I right?) Anyhow, thine eyes are the colors of green leaves in autumn, for I, Abigail, am jealous of Lady Marisol...My dear friend Erique fancys her, and when thoust saw them two together, oh, my eyes were of a furious green!

Sigh, I shouldst be joyfully happy for Erique...I am but his friend, not his lady, so why in heaven's name would I be that way? Tis a dreadfully horrible thing...

Erique is deeeply in love with Lady Marisol, falling head over thy heels, falling flat on his beautiful face...And I, wanting to send Lady Marisol off thee face of thy planet...

But what of my Prince? My treasured prince, and thine feelings for him...I must choose now, thy knoweth it!...

Hm...But whom should thy choose? Nay the prince, he shall never love me...but nay Erique, he shall never love me as a lover...Oh, but thy prince may love me, tis something no friends could do...but thy prince with I, a servant?...And Erique, he shall always be my dear friend, and forever more, we shall be heavenly close...Arg, tis a awful thing! I say, forget them both, but what say you Lady Diary?...

Oh, bloody hell, Erique has just informed thyself he shall be going with Lady Marisol to a ball...Ay, perhaps I should go, for the prince may be there...And maybe once and for all, I can decide which man is right for me at that ball...I shall go now, tis a long walk to the ball, and thou needst a dress...Ooh, I can surely scrummage for one in milord Bermingham's room, for he keeps heaps of magnificent ladie's gowns to bring ladies into thy bed...And once, by and by, there was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen!...I must get that dress now and zoom to thy ball to seek thy prince and Erique...Thine beauties shall never notice me, for it is a masqued ball!...Ta Ta, off to thy ball!...

Abigail