Mr. Stefan came to chat once again today, and I'm happy.
Mr. Stefan first came to our home about six months ago. I thought he was just like those adults who call themselves Architects, and was here to see my sister. But he was different, and didn't ignore me. He always smiles, and gives me lots and lots of candy. He also asked me some questions and I got nervous because I didn't know how to answer, but he didn't get angry. He said I was a quiet and good kid.
I started keeping a diary because of Mr. Stefan. He said that keeping a diary is a good habit for a lady to keep. He also said that keeping a diary is a very lonely affair, and that if I'm scared of being alone, I can just read aloud the diary to him.
To be honest, it's really hard to keep a diary because nothing interesting happens to me — I won't read this part to Mr. Stefan as he'll get sad, and I don't want him to be sad. I wish I were my sister, because she knows everything. She always tells me fun stories and is always telling me about the interesting people she meets.
It was only later that I realized most of my diary was about Mr. Stefan. Sometimes it's recounting our conversations, sometimes it's recording what I've learned from him, sometimes it's simply recording my mood while I wait for him to visit again.
Today, Mr. Stefan and I talked a lot, mostly trying to comfort me as I'd heard some bad news from another kid. I heard that the adults want to take my sister to some place far away, and that I might never be able to see her again. I'm scared because my sister always looks after me and protects me. If she goes, I might get hurt — and I might get even more lonely than I already am now.
Mr. Stefan told me that he wouldn't let that happen. He said, "Cyrille is no less than her sister," and "Cyrille deserves her own wonderful life." I know he's just saying that to comfort me, but it still feels nice to hear that from him.
Before he left, Mr. Stefan gave me a blue stone which, despite its small size, is shiny and smooth. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Mr. Stefan said this present represents our agreement — that he will take me out of here to a more spacious and comfortable place. A place without prison, a place with freedom.
I trust Mr. Stefan. He's a man of his word, unlike all the others. Today's entry is very long — longer than the whole of the previous week combined — and I'm a little tired. It's late, and I should go to bed. My sister didn't come home today, and it's just me home tonight. I'm going to sleep with the gift that Mr. Stefan gave me, so that I won't be afraid of the dark.