Well, this is embarrassing.
I told myself I'd write every day, but it's already been almost a week since I've updated you last. Did you miss me? I missed you. It wasn't so much forgetting as it was just exhaustion and not being able to find the time to write. Now is probably also dangerous, but Mother is out of the house with Ashton and hopefully I have enough time to say some things.

I am afraid, little book. I'm not afraid of Man, he... commands respect, but I am not fearful when it comes to him. If anything, he brings me some comfort, but I am afraid of what he brings upon me. There was a wasps nest outside my window until this morning. Da cleared it out because one stung Ashton, and I was overcome with... anger. Man drew closer, visible from the corner of my eye, and I only felt this apparently choleric disposition of mine grow stonger.
I have never known myself to be a violent person, though I've had my urges, but it was immense. I felt out of control of myself, an intense need to grab the shovel from Da and hit him with it, over and over. It was so overwhelming I started to cry, and once I was crying I couldn't stop. All the wasps are dead. All of the wasps are dead and I grieve them. Why do I mourn them so heavily?

I don't want to speak to him, but Man calls to me. He's annoyed, I think, with my little outburst, though he's never really showed any emotion towards me. I don't know if he's capable of it, but I don't want to see him.

I finally did speak to Man.