The Diary of Lies

Before Khloe Lewis, my mother died; she clutched my hand and made me promise to give her diary to Foster Lewis, my father, without ever sneaking a peek at it. The moment he finished reading it, my father's expression changed. He slapped me hard across the face, and from then on, he beat me at the slightest provocation. A year later, my father remarried. Rachelle Lewis, my stepmother, was gentle and kind, always standing up for me and protecting me. Then my father let out a cold laugh and took her to read my mother's diary. When she finished, disgust twisted her face. She grabbed a cane and beat me until I suffered broken bones. After I came of age, I met Princess Coraline while hunting. We fell in love and began making plans to get engaged. On the eve of our engagement, I begged her again and again not to read that diary. The princess readily agreed. However, my father still insisted that she read my mother's diary before deciding whether to marry me. The moment she finished reading it, the princess called off our engagement and ordered me thrown into the most terrifying prison in the empire. I couldn't understand what was written in that diary that could make everyone hate me with such vicious intensity. My father knew perfectly well that anyone who read it would turn against me. So why did he insist on showing it to everyone? Chapter 1 "Drag Chase Lewis, this piece of trash away and throw him into the Frontier Prison!" The attendants swarmed forward, pinning me firmly to the ground as they tried to shackle me. I struggled desperately to get up and threw myself at Princess Coraline Conley's feet. "Didn't you tell me just yesterday that you would love me and trust me? You promised you wouldn't read that diary!" Coraline's face instantly darkened with rage. "How dare you even bring up that diary? If I hadn't read it, you could have deceived me for the rest of my life, couldn't you?" Deceived her? I was utterly bewildered. Coraline kicked me away, grabbed a silver platter from the table, and slammed it hard against my head. Then the dining forks and knives and the crystal wineglasses came flying at me one after another. A burst of excruciating pain exploded through my head. Blood streamed down my forehead, blurring my vision. In front of outsiders, Coraline had always been the epitome of grace and decorum. I'd never seen her so furious and agitated that she completely lost control of herself. Her lady-in-waiting, Jaylah Best, let out a startled gasp and hurried forward to restrain her. "Your Highness, please leave this to the guards!" Persuaded to sit down, Coraline was still seething with rage. "My God, how can someone like this even exist? If Jaylah saw the truth, she'd be even angrier than I am!" At Coraline's command, the attendants immediately began punching and kicking me. They didn't stop until I'd been beaten so badly that I vomited blood. Then they fastened a pair of heavy shackles around my wrists, preparing to drag me away. I couldn't understand it. Why did everyone who read that diary treat me this way, as though they wanted nothing more than to kill me? Even Coraline, of all people, now wanted me dead after reading it. My father, Foster Lewis, bowed his head to the furious princess. "I'm truly sorry to have caused you so much trouble today, Your Highness." Coraline snapped, "I take back everything I thought about you before. Now I see that you're not merely strict. You're far too kind and softhearted! If I were you, I would've executed this wretch long ago! "Now that I'm sending him to the Frontier Prison, he won't be able to bring shame upon your family anymore." My father smiled and thanked the princess. I lay sprawled on the floor like a dead dog, overwhelmed by confusion and terror. The Frontier Prison was the most dreaded prison in the empire, infamous for its rampant torture and the way it allowed inmates to brutalize one another. Even the most heinous criminals trembled at the mere mention of its name. Did Coraline really hate me that much? And my father clearly knew the secret behind the diary. Why, then, did he keep showing it to one person after another? I was cast into the Frontier Prison, where the conditions were even worse than I'd imagined. Chapter 2 In this place, prisoners were lucky to get one decent meal every few days, and beatings were part of daily life. On my second day there, two of my bones were broken in a beating. But what tormented me most wasn't the brutal conditions. It was the mystery of that diary. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. When my father first read my mother's diary, he'd beaten me on the spot. From then on, he despised me and beat me at the slightest provocation. A year after my mother, Khloe Lewis, died, my father remarried. My stepmother, Rachelle Lewis, had initially been very protective of me. She'd apply medicine to my wounds, ask the servants to bake me apple pies, and do her best to stop my father whenever he tried to beat me. But those better days didn't last long. One day, my father flew into another rage and brought out that dreadful cane, preparing to lash me with it. I scrambled to my stepmother's room, desperately seeking shelter. She stepped between us and frowned. "Darling, I don't know what's gotten into you. But I think you're being far too harsh with a child." My father paused and glanced at me. Then he suddenly let out a cold laugh. "So you're defending him? Then why don't you come and read his mother's diary with me?" Something about his smile sent a chill through my entire body. Back then, I still didn't understand what it meant for someone to read that diary. I only felt instinctively frightened by my father's attitude. Before I could say anything, my stepmother patted me casually on the head. "What's the big deal? Let's read it, then!" She followed my father into the room where my mother's belongings were kept. When she came out, her expression had completely changed. Uneasy, I tried to approach her and take her hand. Instead, she shouted, "Stop! Don't come any closer! How could a child like you even exist? My God, you're practically the spawn of the devil!" I stood there dumbfounded, as though I'd been frozen in ice. The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. Finally, she snatched the cane from my father's hand and began lashing me with it. A searing pain shot through my arm. I was beaten to the floor, and the cane rained down on my back in a relentless flurry of blows. I screamed for help, but all I got in response was more vicious beating and my father's inexplicable, cold laughter. I don't know how much time passed before Rachelle finally threw the cane to the ground and stormed away. My entire body hurt so badly that I could barely move. After resting for a long time, I finally managed to get up, gasping and trembling with every movement. Only then did I realize that my father had been standing beside me the whole time, watching me with a sinister expression. When our eyes met, he gave a cold snort, stepped forward, picked up the cane, and brought it down hard on my leg. Once. Twice. Three times. Then came a sharp crack. I heard the bone in my own leg break. I spent two months bedridden. The only person who came to my room was the family doctor, who changed my dressings. No one else came to see me. Rachelle, who had once cared for me so tenderly, now treated me as though I didn't exist. I began to wonder what on earth was hidden in the diary my mother had left behind. What could have been in those pages to turn my father into a man filled with such deep-seated hatred toward me? And why had Rachelle, who'd once been so gentle and kind, come to harbor such loathing and contempt for me after reading it? Unable to figure out the answer, I sought out a servant who had accompanied my mother when she married into my father's family and asked him to summon my maternal relatives. Driven by love, my mother had traveled a great distance to my father’s estate, bringing with her a massive bridal price and a small retinue of servants. As a result, when she died, my maternal grandmother and uncles hadn't been able to arrive in time. I was the only family member at her side. My grandmother, Corinne Novak, arrived quickly with one of my uncles, Gael Novak. When they saw my injured leg and the fresh and old wounds covering my body, they were overcome with fury. Grandma pulled me into her arms and wept so violently that she could barely catch her breath. Chapter 3 Uncle Gael's eyes were wet with tears too. He vowed to make my father pay and promised to take me back to my mother's family, where they would raise me themselves. At last, I felt reassured. But just as Uncle Gael was about to leave, a sudden wave of anxiety washed over me. I couldn't help calling after him. "Uncle, if my father tries to show you my mother's diary, please, please don't read it." In her final moments, my mother had been most worried about me. She'd held my hand and repeatedly urged me to do as she'd asked. I had no doubt that my mother loved me. But both my father and Rachelle had changed their attitudes toward me only after reading that diary. Uncle Gael waved his hand dismissively. "How could he possibly bring up your mother with me? After the way he's treated you, he'd have some nerve to do that." Uncle Gael didn't take my warning seriously. Half an hour later, he returned to my room with a dark, grim expression. "Mom, let's go! To hell with this animal!" Uncle Gael's attitude had changed too. He must have read my mother's diary! My whole body trembled. I couldn't tell whether I was more frightened or more aggrieved. Grandma froze for a moment, then angrily shoved away Uncle Gael when he tried to pull her along. "You ungrateful fool! What are you saying? He's your own nephew, Khloe's only child!" Uncle Gael's expression was utterly cold. "Then I wish my sister had never left behind a child at all. Mom, if you don't believe me, come and read Khloe's diary yourself." Grandma shot to her feet. "I want to see what could possibly be written in Khloe's diary to make you say something so utterly heartless!" In a panic, I grabbed Grandma's hand. "Please don't read it! I'm begging you. Please don't read that diary!" Grandma patted my hand reassuringly. "All right, I won't read it. I'll go find your father and demand to know how he's been treating you!" I watched anxiously as Grandma left the room. Consumed by dread, I waited for her to return. When she finally came back, my father was following behind her, wearing a cold, mocking smile. My heart sank to the bottom of my chest. Grandma entered the room without even glancing at me. She simply told Uncle Gael to leave with her. I called out timidly, "Grandma, aren't you taking me with you?" Only then did she turn to look at me. She spat at me in disgust. "You little demon! How could my daughter have given birth to a child like you? If it weren't for the sake of both families' reputations, I should kill you with my own hands and rid your parents of the menace you've become!" And so, after reading my mother's diary, Grandma and Uncle Gael left, filled with hatred and disgust for me. Before leaving, Grandma coldly declared that all ties between us were severed from that moment on. I was never to contact them again, nor was I ever allowed to tell anyone that I was their grandson. Grandma even patted my father's shoulder with a sigh. "You poor thing. It must have been so hard raising a child like this." After they left, I was sent away to a boarding school. It was a school notorious for beating and abusing its students. I spent my childhood and part of my adolescence there. It wasn't until two years ago, when I was finally old enough to graduate, that I returned home. Once again, I became invisible to my own family. Rachelle still treated me as though I didn't exist. My father no longer seemed so eager to find excuses to beat me, but he remained distant and cold. He and Rachelle had since had a son and a daughter, raising both according to the standards expected of aristocratic children in those days. Their son, Diego Lewis, had already earned the title of knight and taken over most of the estate's affairs. Their daughter, Jemima Lewis, was a lady of impeccable reputation, famous throughout the surrounding region. Her generous bridal price and excellent upbringing had made her a coveted bride among countless noble families. The estate was thriving, and I had nothing to do with any of it. Chapter 4 I lived under the same roof as my family, yet remained an unwanted outsider on the very edges of their lives. It wasn't until I met Princess Coraline that my life finally seemed to offer a glimmer of hope. But even Coraline changed completely after reading my mother's diary, just like everyone else. She flew into a rage and threw me into prison, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to see me dead. Before my mother died, she'd specifically instructed me to give her diary to my father. What on earth was written in that diary that could make people who should have loved me and sympathized with me turn against me as though I were their sworn enemy? Could my own mother really have wanted to hurt me? And why did my father keep showing the diary to one person after another, even at the cost of destroying the life I'd finally begun to turn around? My unhealed wounds still ached. Ever since my mother's death, all the abuse and contempt I'd endured over the past decade and more came flooding back to me. Was I destined to spend the rest of my life in misery? A prison guard kicked me. "You've been sentenced to ten years in prison. Hahaha! Let's hope you're still alive when your sentence is up. "No, wait. Let's hope your corpse hasn't rotted away by then! Hahahahaha!" I closed my eyes, but I wasn't overcome with sorrow. This time, I wouldn't just endure everything passively. Even if it cost me my life, I would uncover the truth behind all of this and discover the secret of that diary. Perhaps the guards thought I had plenty of time left to suffer in this place, because they didn't rush to torment me. Instead, they threw me into a cramped, damp solitary cell. The damp conditions meant the guards rarely came around, either. That gave me the perfect opportunity. Back at boarding school, the supervisors had often taken the easy way out by locking all the students who refused to obey them in solitary confinement. After being locked up so many times, the students had gradually figured out a few tricks of their own. Picking locks, for example. I deliberately broke rules and endured beatings to test the guards' shift rotations. Finally, three months after my imprisonment, I managed to escape. I ran as fast as I could, gasping for breath as the wind roared past my ears. The bushes scratched bloody lines across my body, each wound stinging sharply, but I had no time to care. There was only one thought in my mind: run faster, just a little faster! By nightfall, I'd finally found a temporary place of safety. Now I had two choices. One, I could keep running, get as far away as possible, and go somewhere my father would never find me. As long as I stayed away from him, no one I met in the future would ever see that mysterious diary. They wouldn't suddenly turn against me for reasons I couldn't understand. I could finally have a normal life. But what about everything I'd suffered in the first half of my life? Was I supposed to let all that contempt, hatred, and abuse go as though none of it had ever happened? No. There was another path. I could go back and confront my father and demand to know what was written in that diary. Even if returning meant being arrested or losing my life, I needed the truth. I needed an answer that could explain every hardship I'd endured throughout the first half of my life. Getting home was much easier than escaping prison. After all, this was where I'd grown up. I knew exactly when the patrol guards changed shifts and which sections of the wall were easiest to climb. When I returned, my father was sitting in my mother's old room, holding a cross and staring blankly into space. I had no idea what he was thinking about. With a knife clenched between my teeth, I climbed through the window and made my way inside. "Is this how you do it?" I asked, my voice thick with anguish as I pressed the blade against my father's neck. "You destroy my life while sitting here mourning my mother?"