Today Mrs Danvers looked at me and told me I was ugly and got a whip and proceeded to whip me with it and it was positively and truly ghastly. I cried and cried. I shan't get out of bed ever again, I am so devastated. Chuif, chuif.
To make things worse, Maxim does not love me. He does not. He thinks of his superb dead wife all the time. Oh, why can't I be more like Rebecca? Chuif, chuif.
May 1938
Maxim doesn't love me. Chuif, chuif. Ooooooh. Has every living soul quite such a ghastly existence like mine? I am so ugly. Nobody loves me. Maxim does not love me. I am so young, I know nothing of the world. That is why today Mrs Danvers pull my knickers down and spanked me like the bad, bad girl I am. Chuif, chuif. She is so mean to me. And I deserve it. Chuif, chuif.
Why can't I be more like Rebecca? Chuif, chuif.
June 1938
I wish I were older. Older and wiser. And beautiful. A woman of the world, like Rebecca, who knew how to dress and eat and charmed everyone around her. If only I were older and wiser, Maxim would love me and come to my bedroom every night. But no, not my handsome husband. He just sits there looking upset. I know I am the one who makes him upset, all clumsy and ugly. He should kill me and feed me to the dogs! Chuif, chuif.
Nobody loves me. Why can't I be more like Rebecca? She was so beautiful and intelligent and gorgeous and beautiful. I am not and Mrs Danvers hates me and she should hate me. Everybody should hate me. I hate myself. Chuif, chuif.
July 1938
Oh! Maxim does love me! He loves me so! I am so happy! I am beautiful and interesting after all!
As it turns out, the reason why he always looked so gloomy and positively tired was not because he was married to me, it was merely because he killed Rebecca in a fit of rage because he couldn't stand the sight of her anymore and because he thought she was pregnant with another man's child! I am so happy right now, I am not married to someone who doesn't love me, I am merely married to a cold-hearted murderer who shot his pregnant wife! Oh, bliss!!!!
July 1938
Well, she wasn't pregnant in the end, so it's not that bad. In fact, it's not bad at all. I love him so!
August 1938
Today I told Mrs Danvers to get the F***** OUT OF MY SIGHT! TO P**** WELL OFF! And she did! Ah, ah, ah! She burnt the whole house down in the process, but who cares, right.
Aaaaaah, Maxim loves me. I feel pretty, oh so pretty. Rebecca can f'**** off. Need a bleedin' cigarrette now...
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