Free Letters to a Princess by Libby Hathorn

cursed weak old Graham and his shit of a son as I stacked things against the door so that Marcus couldn’t get in without a struggle.
    I stayed in my room for most of the night but of course I eventually had to go out to the bathroom, and this gave Marcus the opportunity to leave another of his ghastly ‘calling cards’. This time he’d gone to a lot of trouble. He’d ‘arranged’ my clothes on the floor. My favourite shirt was laid out with pink rubber gloves for hands; my pale blue jeans were folded out with a pair of sneakers for feet; at the top he’d arranged one of my caps, under which he’d put a hideous grinning monkey mask. Then he’d turned off my light and waited.
    I don’t know why it gave me such a fright but as I came into the room and turned on the light it looked like a dead body lying on the floor and I screamed blue murder despite myself. I could hear his chuckling from down the hall as I slammed my door.
    I was so glad to see Babs when she finally got back from holidays. As luck would have it, Marcus was out at footy training.
    ‘What’s up sweetie?’ Babs asked as soon as she saw my expression. ‘School getting you down? Or is it Marcus?’
    I poured it all out to Babs. I told her how badly I needed a lock for my bedroom and that Graham would never get around to it. I really wanted to tell her about the mess of the Diana interview too, but somehow I just couldn’t get it out, not even to Babs. The interview had been hanging over me for the past two days and it seemed to have taken on a life of its own.
    ‘I just want some privacy in my own room, Babs. Just time to myself without that ape barging in all the time.’
    ‘I had four brothers and our house was tiny. But I still had a room to myself at the end of a verandah and, well pet, it was my sanity. Look, I’ll tell you what. I’ll phone Martin and he can buy a lock for you this afternoon. You can wear the key around your neck,’ she chuckled, ‘just like I did. I’ll talk to Graham about it, don’t you worry, love. You’ve got a right to a bit of privacy.’ I hugged her.
    It was music to my ears to hear Martin later that day drilling the door and putting in the lock. I prayed he’d finish before Marcus or Graham came home. But there’s always a price to pay when Martin does anything for you—you have to listen to him talking about his favourite subject, the Holy Bible. If Babs could take it (she agreed he was obsessive and even though she was a believer, it could get on your nerves), then I could.This time he gave me a lecture on why I should read the Bible every day.
    ‘You’re a good reader, Diana. You might just be surprised by what you find in the Good Book. Now look at this lock, works like a charm.’
    I thanked him profusely as I tried the key and promised I’d give the Good Book a go. But I was apprehensive when he and Babs left. Graham didn’t know and hadn’t approved and Marcus, well, who knows what he’d do? I’d have to tell Graham about the lock straightaway.
    Graham was rushed and distracted as usual. He just grunted when I told him that Martin had put a lock in for me. Maybe Babs had phoned him. Or maybe it was just that he had to get an important report finished. Then I told him about a documentary on Ancient Egypt our history teacher had told us to watch that night and for once he laid down the law to Marcus so that I could watch it. Amazing! I touched the key that was safely around my neck as Marcus stalked off, glad to get away.
    The doco was really interesting. I wasn’t surprised that Marcus didn’t want to watch it, but I should have been suspicious about his lack of protest. What was dear Marcus doing while I was watching TV? He was busily unscrewing the hinges on my door!
    ‘A little surprise for you, Ugly,’ he gloated, coming down the hallway when he heard the thwack of the door hitting the carpet. His look said it all but he couldn’t resist rubbing it in, ‘You might think you can win