The Haunting Of Hastings House

Chapter 19

Warning!  This chapter contains scenes of child abuse.

By
Brynn Morgan

Copyright © 2023 by – Brynn Morgan – All Rights Reserved.
It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited.

                                     Chapter 19

Emily, Lainie, and Clarrisa curled up on the couch after eating pizza and drinking red wine, and each one took a journal; they would read an excerpt when something jumped out at them.

Clarrisa was shocked by what she had learned from Emily and Lainie about the entries in the first three journals of Elizabeth, and she was appalled at how the daughters' graves were not dated. They could figure out the dates, though, from the date that they were born. So that was not an issue. Still, to not have anything but their names engraved? It was wrong.
"Listen to this y'all," Lainie said excitedly.

May 13th, 1846
She is a year old today—the girl. I should have sent her away. Why did I keep her here? What was I thinking? I was not. She will look at me as I pass her in the hall with those dark eyes. My eyes. She looks more like me than Georgia and Paris do. They want to play with her, but I will not let them. I do not want them to have anything to do with her, and I have told them to stay away from the girl.

"How sad," Emily commented. "She should have sent her away rather than subject her to this cruelty,"

Lainie flipped through some more pages, and her face went white as she scanned the entry. "Oh, my God."

Emily and Clarrisa looked up from the journals that they were scanning slowly. "What?" Emily questioned.

"Listen to this," Lainie said gravely.

December 25th,1846
I am so angry right now that I am shaking. I purchased beautiful China dolls for Georgia and Paris for their Christmas present. I had them sent from Paris, and that girl has ruined everything.
My daughters were playing with their new gifts in the ballroom, and that girl walked in, grabbed Paris' doll, and slammed it down on the floor, breaking her face! I heard Paris crying, and I ran to her. She held the broken beauty in her hand and pointed at the girl standing by the piano. I walked over, and I hit her. I struck her across the face, and she fell. She did not cry. She just stood up and looked at me. I screamed at Clara to get her and get the girl out of my sight! I am going to send her somewhere. I do not want to see her face again.

January 10th, 1847
James will not let me send her away. He said she was our daughter and would remain under this roof. I do not know what to do. I feel so helpless.

Clarrisa's mouth was open wide. "She hates her. I mean, she really hates her. At least James is standing firm on her staying there at Hastings." she said.

Lainie slammed her journal down angrily. "But what kind of life was that for the girl?" "She wasn't just a girl!" "She was a baby girl, a fucking human being, and she smacked her down?" she said incredulously. "She should have been horsewhipped!"

Emily understood Lainie being upset because it was very upsetting. It was child abuse.

Lainie had a few more entries to read, but now she could not. It affected her to see helpless children being abused. It always had. But she witnessed it too much in her line of work as a nurse.

Clarrisa opened the next journal and cleared her throat.

March 17th, 1847
The girl is watching me. I saw her tonight, peeking around the corner as I played the piano. The music draws her attention. She was looking at me with no expression. I turned on my seat and looked at her. Our eyes bore into each other. She did not look away from me. She was not intimidated by me in the least. She looked at me as if she hated me. Does she remember me hitting her? She looks at me as if she does. I turned back around, and she went away.

May 20th, 1847
I have decided to have a lock installed on her door. She sneaks out of her room at night and goes into the nursery. Georgia told me that she plays with her toys at night while she thinks she is sleeping, and Paris says she takes things. I will put a stop to this now.

August 2nd, 1847
Why must the girl provoke me? She likes to try my patience. I had the Summerville Ladies Association over today for afternoon tea, and I expressly forbid Clara to let the girl be seen. During tea in the ballroom, I caught her standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking at us. The old dowagers asked who she was and commented that she was such a pretty child to make her come closer so they could see her better. I told them that she was a servant girl and a very curious one at that and laughed it off. When they left, I ordered her to her room and told her that she would not come out until I said so. For good measure, I have locked the door. The little mouse will no longer wander around in the dark or disobey me—sorry, little mouse.

October 31st, 1847
She has been in the room for a full day now with no food and no light. She tried me again and took one of Paris's dresses and dragged it around on the floor. The dress is contaminated now. She can play with it as much as she wants, locked in her room. Clara asked me if she could give her some food. She said she was crying at the door and begging to leave. She said she was too small to be left alone in a room. Clara received a solid slap across her face for the effort. Good. Maybe the girl has learned her lesson.

Emily stood up and raked her fingers through her hair.
"This is too much." "She has locked this little girl, this little toddler, in a room alone for a day without food?" Oh, my God." She moaned, pacing back and forth across the floor.

"We can take a break, Emily," Clarrisa said softly.

Emily glanced at her. "No. I am okay. I just want to get through this,"

December 8th, 1847
Thank God. I have miscarried. This is the second one that I have lost. I do not want any more children by that monster. At times, I wish that he were dead. I have thought about killing him myself. I have thought about killing him while he is sleeping. He deserves a horrible death for what he does to me.

May 26th, 1848
James insisted that I have dresses made for the girl now. He said that she was prettier than Georgia and Paris. Her dresses will be plain and bland, just as she is. I will see to it. He loves to provoke me just as she does. They are so much alike. I am sure that Clara has told her that I am her mother. Why else would the girl look at me the way that she does?

Oct 10th, 1848
I am cursed with another pregnancy. I am so sick, and all that I can do is lay in bed. I think that it will be around April.

December 9th, 1848
I woke up from my nap. This baby is draining me of all energy, and all that I can do is lay down. I woke up, and the girl was standing in the doorway looking at me. She is growing fast and stares at me as if she can see into my soul, and she looks at me as if she can read my thoughts. She boldly walked up to the side of my bed and smiled at me. I screamed out for Clara, but she did not come right away. Not before the girl called me mama.

February 23rd, 1849
I am carrying twins. I am huge and miserable. I am bedridden, and I am terrified. I may die from this.

March 6th, 1849
The girl broke Georgia's parasol and Georgia came running to me crying. I ordered Clara to bring the girl to me. I made the girl get down on her knees and stay there until she said she was sorry. She would not say it. She is still on the floor now. I will not let her leave until she says it.

March 6th, 1849
The contractions are coming faster now. They started this morning, and they hurt so bad. I feel as if I am being ripped apart. James told the girl that she could get up and leave, but I told him no and that I was punishing her for her disobedience toward me.

March 6th, 1849
I am sure her legs are bruised and maybe even bleeding, but she will not apologize. It is dark outside, and I hope the doctor will be here soon. I am hurting so bad. I want to scream. I want to break something or someone and make them feel pain, too. These babies are tearing me apart. I ordered Clara to bring the belt that hung on James's dressing room door and made the girl stand up this afternoon. She would not do it, so I spanked her where she knelt on the floor. I whipped her. Many lashes were administered to her legs, back, and buttocks. She fell over on her back, so I continued spanking her on her arms, head, wherever I could reach. Would she not cry? Why won't she cry? Even with welts and blood, she will ... not ... cry. I feel the gushes of blood between my legs. I am so weak. Where is the doctor?

"That is the last entry," Emily said, closing the journal.