Maria's Journal, late 1949

I am writing this as tears drip from my eyes onto the paper. It is late at night, around one o'clock, and David has just left. All because of my parents and what they think about David. They knew I was completely happy, yet they had to make him go away. I was finally pleased to have someone other than my brothers to talk to. They just play around and scream and do stupid things. Yes, I love them, but I don’t think that they wouldn’t have saved me from the fire.  They were the ones who tied me up there in the first place! They are always playing games I don’t understand. I am always lonely, being the only girl. No one ever wants to do what I want to do. They don’t understand me.

I prefer David because he is quiet, yet joyful, and seems to know about everything. He is well-mannered and tells me about things my parents refuse to tell me. My parents don’t want me to know about the real world-how people die, suffering, fear, cruelty. I walk around the property and the park with him and show him fountains and flowers and different insects. I show him things inside the house too, like the fridge and our clean water taps, or our schoolbooks and our story books. David is usually amazed by the things I show him. He asks me lots of questions about what it's like to live in a rich family.

David also tells me about his adventures with the circus. I think there is more to him than just a circus boy; because I don’t think a circus boy would know this much about suffering and pain. He doesn’t seem to know any skills a circus boy would know, like juggling, or tightrope walking. He isn’t really sure-footed. Any time I try to talk about his past, David switches the subject and glances down to the ground a little. But I still enjoy spending time with him. He has made me develop a love for books and music by asking me to turn on the gramophone or read part of a page in a book.  I have finally found someone that is much more like me than my brothers.

The other day we were exchanging stories: he would tell me about things about different parts of Europe, and I would tell him what it was like to be a normal kid, or rather, a normal girl from a rich family. I told him about my last birthday party, where all of my friends came and I got tons of presents. He kind of frowned at that and told me about greed in a disappointed sort of fashion and how it works. I couldn’t really understand why he talked about greed in such a way. Then I told him about the museums my parents sometimes took my brothers and I too. David seemed very interested in that. He seemed to like art and how it was created, the messages of some paintings. He responded by talking about how they destroyed art and took it away and burned it. I couldn’t understand why any evil person would do that. When I asked David who they was, all he did was shake his head and ask to go listen to the gramophone. 

Then, last night, I heard my parents talking about David. They were saying things I definitely didn't agree with: his overall unnaturalness, and about his odd looking eyes, about the how David talks about suffering and pain. David over heard them just as well as I did, and decided to leave our house. I met him upstairs and tried to convince him not to go, but he was firm. I gave him my cross on a chain and made him promise to see me again. He gave me his beautiful   smile one more time then softly tiptoed out of the room. I do hope I see David again.