Page 1, This story is based on the painting umbrella\'s by renoir, Elizabeth is young and beautiful with a potentially great life ahead, when young her father left her, her mother and her sister poppy for a life of crime and games,when her mother horrificly is found dead in the kitchen, she has a choice, respond to her fathers letters and join him in a life of murder and theft or stay and care for her sister poppy in the mansionwith the maids. If she chooses option one an initiation is required.Kill her boyfriend and send her father his hair and index finger. What did she do ? What Path did she take ? And how did she record the murder ? Who will die next? It has been published in a book of short stories, its set in the year 1900. It is a fictional diary entry and the content slightly explicit and contains storylines of a violent nature (eg.Beatings). Thoughit shows true feeling! enjoy ! Please comment on what genre you wsould put this in as crime was not in the list !

Dear Diary

Today it rained. it rained so hard that you could hear the raindrops pounding against the pavement,see them splashing and bouncing back off the ground. As I walked I took in every single moment; although I went for the weekly shopping, I didn't get much done.

I had done a terrible thing and I knew I would be punished, I should't have gotten involved,Why was a stupid Girl? Maybe it was all the arduous,agonizing beatings I endured as a child.

But on that noteI wanted to live today like it was my last.

Putting my umbrella down I let the rain violently beat my head,I tried to forget my dilemma but withinfuriating lashI had a flashback.

My fathers strong hands, his kane, his whip.

My boyfriends bony fingers, that knife,his blood.

My mother,her guts blood bones, all drawn out of her.

My hands, That kninfe, my body swaddled with guilt.

I looked around people were smiling at me, they didn't know I was a criminal but in my head the execution date was set. People were still smiling, my vision became blurred,my head was pounding. the next thing i knew i was lying here.

AsIay inbed writing this my hands are shaking, vastly. The maid is washing my clothes. It won't be long till she finds the devils juices on my clothes and that knifeI slid into my under garments earlier.

One thing they'll never find is evidence i was the killer unless Poppy reveals all, that is if anyone ever finds poppy,I better write a letter, We'd hate for her to die tied up on a chair where she witnessed a senseless killing. More have her experience the senseless killing.

Father would be proud.

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