Entry One

To say I was wanted would be a lie.
I suppose that would not be particularly astonishing, given the circumstances of my birth. In 1606, who would want a daughter born on Friday the Thirteenth, on the night of a new moon?
At times I tell myself this is no fault of mine - how would I be to blame for the superstitious of many, for being born into such a society as I was? However, I cannot help feeling guilty whenever I think about myself - myself, and all the others left behind by chance.