Lady Chamberlain's Wedding-Night Diary

As I lay me down to sleep, isn't a common practice when you're married to the Marquis.

It was my wedding night, but, it was not what I expected. How was I supposed to love a man, when I am nothing more than his captive; you wouldn't have known it, as I was left completely on my own. At least for tonight, I wouldn't be bullied by him, nor would I have to lodge the chair against my door. Drowning out my active, fearful mind, is the scraping of the tall tree branches against the window pane. It is my third wedding anniversary, and I am proudly spending it alone, and if you knew my husband, you would understand; just as I had on my first night as the Marquis' wife . . . little did I realize, it wouldn't be the last.

Like Laurence himself, the manor was cold, dark and brooding, and even though he was not with me, I could feel his icy, green eyes glaring at me. Overcome by a feeling of dread, I'm

I was left to wander blindly through the cold, sterile walls of my new husband's manor. With each step I took, I heard another, softer stride behind me, walking when I walked,

"Who's there?" I called out; no one answered. "Were my ears or my eyes deceiving me?" There was someone behind me . . . I could hear them, I could feel them, but when I turned around, only the bare, naked darkness. "Show yourself! I know you are there!"

Through the tears clouding my eyes, I spotted a

Realizing on the spot - trembling hands and striking a match, are not wise; what else was I supposed to do? Stand here, alone in the dark, with God knows what hovering around me? drawn into a state of paralysis, yet somehow, forged on through the blanketed darkness. and stopping when I stopped. I looked over my shoulder, then spun around on my heels. candlestick sitting on the table in front of me, and I grabbed it, along with the long matchsticks, beside it. "Who are you?" My hands and my body began trembling, as did the darkness; it was shaking all around me, as if it were inhabited by evil. And so I did - tremors and all; I struck the match.

The light from the candle, engulfed the space. To my surprise, I was in the kitchen; just me and the old, coal burning stove. Was it just my overrun imagination or was it something more? I was out of sorts; just when I started to believe it was my imagination, my stalker appeared. It was my husband, the Marquis. When I was about to ask him where he had been, I suddenly had a change of heart; perhaps it was the hateful response in his eyes that left me put off - I knew best not to tread; his violence, which, I had witnessed before.

What would my punishment be this time? I reckoned it would be brutal, but my fear subsided, and relief washed over me. Rather than strike me with a fist or open hand, he insisted on abandoning me for the shadowy darkness. I was out of danger for now, but what about tomorrow?

I cannot believe it has been almost four years since the Marquis

Every night without fail, I have suffered the same night vision. There is no daylight for me, only darkness; I am moving through my dream, not a care in the world, and suddenly life is pulled out from under me, and I discover I am being buried alive! I do not see him through the sarcophagus, but, I am sure, he is staring down at my casket, as it is being lowered down into my soiled paradise, joyously smirking, delighted that I have met my demise. I wail, I scream, I cry, desperate to be heard. My throat is beginning to close up, and my hands are already raw from clawing and beating on the lid above me; no one hears me!

I have survived my nightmares many times, but just before I awaken, I somehow find myself back in the kitchen with the old, coal burning stove, just as I did on that night. When I wake in the morning, my skin is as rough as it is raw. Which leaves me to wonder - was it really all, just a dream? and I have been married, and this is not all for the good. These past years have brought me nothing but pain, and nightmares, and this to my husband, I pledge.