Tag Archives: Retelling

Project #1, Uncategorized, Week 7

Project #1- My Retelling

Leave a comment

– “A Rose for Emily” by William Faulkner

– Retelling in first person narrative as Homer Barron

“The Late Truth”

I go by the name of Homer Barron. I am a Foreman from the North with a rather large body size with a dark skin complexion, a booming voice, and light-colored eyes. I am a gruff and demanding boss of my company. I consider myself accepted by the town because I was able to win many admirers in Jefferson because of my gregarious nature and good sense of humor. 

It was a scorching hot summer day on the job. Me and my men were hard at work on a sidewalk-paving project in town working towards completing by the end of the week and move on the the next job, because you know what they say “time is money,” well at least thats what I always put my belief in, and it makes sense doesn’t it?

The first day on this project, as me and my men begin digging and shoveling into the ground breaking the concrete bit my bit, the jackhammers prying the hard cement open like a nutcracker breaking open a wall nut so effortlessly making a loud cracking noise like an intense thunder storm rolling into town.

It was part of the job as foreman to inform the locals of our work so I went door to door on the block to let them know that we will be working on the concrete floors not to be alarmed by the noise and apologize for the inconvenience that we may cause. This is how I came across the most beautiful creature that I have ever set my eyes on.  She had beautiful young lady with long brown hair, a beautiful pair of brown eyes that glistened in the light and velvety smooth skin. 

I formally introduced myself and informed her that there will be a lot of noise for the next few hours. A few days later I was taking her around town in my chariot and we were spending a lot of time with each other. I was sure that the towns people were talking about us because lets face it, a wealthy and beautiful young lady like Emily was not usually seen with a man of my stature.

Emily and I would go on dates every day spending countless amount of hours with each other even though it was frowned upon by the neighborhood. I know for a fact that when we pass the towns people you could hear chatter and I know it was talk about the fact that I am but a simple foreman lucky enough to have the pleasure of taking the wealthy and beautiful Ms. Emily out.

Regardless of what anyone has to say about our relationship I enjoy the time spent with Emily and I believe that Miss Emily feels the same towards me as well.

From what I’ve been told Emily does not like the company of others very much. She seemed to be a very mysterious person before I was introduced into her life. People say that no one has been inside her home since her father passed. She didn’t seem to take good care of her home, there was dust and garbage everywhere. She seemed to be in somewhat of a rut but she seemed to be much more cheerful once I introduced my self to her.

Emily was always skeptical of me coming into her home but one afternoon she invited me over for dinner so I blissfully made my way over to her home. After dinner emily asked me if I wanted a further tour of the upstairs rooms and I agreed. She brought me to the attack room, looked like any normal old room, bed night counter with a bunch of little trinkets. i then took the last gulp of the wine that was on my glass from dinner and little that I know that this would be the last liquid that I would ever consume. Complete feeling in my body had vanished and the room faded to black.

Comparison

“A Rose for Emily” is told in third person limited perspective. Third person limited could be perceived as being told from the viewpoint character. It can be used very objectively, showing what is actually happening without the filter of the protagonist’s personality, which can allow the author to reveal information that the protagonist doesn’t know or realize.

The narrator has more information about Miss Emily, her father and the town that the main character would ever reveal to the reader.

When a main character is the narrator, the story is told from a particular perspective, in this case, we would probably be even more sympathetic towards Emily than we are through the narrator’s version.

We certainly would get to know Miss Emily’s heart better.  The story does not give us insight into her thinking, only that we assume she murdered Homer Barron so that he would never leave her.  We don’t get to hear Emily’s thoughts through the narrator, that would be a nice touch. 

But the essence of horror would be minimized if Miss Emily told the story, we would see the whole experience through her eyes, she would probably rationalize her behavior.  

However I chose to take a completely different approach in telling this story. In my version of this story, “The Late Truth,” I chose to go with first person narration. First person narrative is a point of view where the story is narrated by one character at a time. This character may be speaking about him/herself or sharing events that he/she is experiencing.

While this character may share details about others in the story, we are only told what the speaker knows. An author may switch from character to character, but still use first person narrative. This way, we may learn about what other characters think and feel, but we are still limited in our knowledge because we must rely on what the character shares.

As a reader, we are not only limited by what the character shares, but what the character knows. He/she may not have all the information or knowledge about events. We would also not know what other characters are thinking. 

In “The Late Truth,” because we only see Homer Barron’s Point of view and know only his thoughts we only get one side of the story and it is very limited in information but it is interesting to get into Homer Barron’s head as the story unfolds because he was unknowing of the events that was about to take place and had no knowledge of the townspeople reaction to him and Emily’s relationship. It is certainly an interesting twist to the original story.

Thesis Statement

In the original version of “A Rose for Emily,” the story is told in third person limited perspective narration which means that the narrator is basically just telling the story from a wide open perspective. The readers are allowed to see everything that is happening within this small town. This includes inside Emily’s home, the entire town and Homer Barron’s actions. This type of Narration is not very limited at all but in my retelling i decided to go with a completely different approach. I chose to retell “A Rose for Emily” in first person narration from Homer Barron’s point of view in the story. Although this type of narration is very limited but it is also an interesting way to get a different side of the story that your not able to see with the original story. It is very interesting because with this new point of view we are able to get into Homer Barron’s head and understand his emotions towards Emily in a deeper sense where as with the original version of the story, because it is told in third person narration we are only able to just vaguely understand how Homer feels about Emily only by sight and facial expressions but with my version, because it is told in first person narration we are given more details about Homers feelings towards Emily because we are able to see his thoughts.

0
Project #1

Farewell to My Duty

Leave a comment

Farewell to My Duty

Ever since Miss Emily’s father passed away, she had been staying in her house for years. I was the only connection to the town- but only when I need grocery or something for Miss Emily or for the house. When Homer Barron, a foreman of the construction company, came to the town for paving the sidewalks, Miss Emily started to come out to the town, driving in the yellow-wheeled buggy on Sunday afternoons. I saw the town people were surprised that she actually came out to the town. Not only that, but also it might be a shock that Miss Grierson, with dignity of her family and noblesse oblige, came out to the town because of this day laborer nigger like me. There cannot be any relationship between a nigger laborer and a noble family in any places in the world – even if the Grierson is being corrupted and Miss Emily might be the last person in the Grierson, I think. I grew up with Miss Emily in this house, and I saw her going through hard time after Mr. Grierson passed away, and even before that. I think I knew her feeling better than anyone else because I was the only one who had been staying with her in this house for years. It was just my duty that I have to take care of her and do anything to protect her, but I also have loyalty and compassion to her. So when the people in the town talked about Miss Grierson and Homer Barron, I pretended I did not hear anything as I have done for my whole life.

Miss Emily might know what other people in town would think about her falling in love with Homer Baron. I was sure that she cared about the town’s thoughts when I saw her getting poison. It was arsenic. She even went out to the town to get the poison by herself. If it was for rats, she would have told me to get it. I knew she got the poison because of Homer Barron but I did not know how she would use it. Is she going to kill herself? But I know she is not the type of person to kill herself because she cares about other people’s eyes. She is the tradition and the noble in Jefferson, and she can’t just kill herself because of love for a Northern laborer. But I cannot ask or tell her what to do because I am not in the position; luckily, regardless of my concern, she did not use the poison for herself.

Later Miss Emily ordered a man’s toilet set in silver with the letters H.B. on each piece. She also bought a complete outfit of men’s clothing, including a nightshirt. I wondered what she was planning to do; even her two cousins came over to the house. On the day the cousins came to the house, I overheard that they came because the town sent them a letter saying it would be a disgrace to the town and a bad example to the young people if Miss Emily and Homer Barron marry. When I looked at them, – they did not see me looking at them because I pretended I was just serving them a cup of tea – I felt like they were little different than Miss Emily. They looked full of egoism and prejudice that they were not even considering Miss Emily as a member of family. Maybe that was why they did not let me be next to Miss Emily when they were talking. And maybe, that was the reason why they left back to their home because they think nothing would happen. And even if anything happen to Miss Emily, it would not matter to them.

After the two ladies left, I had to clean a room in upstairs and furnish the room as for a bridal and Homer Barron came to the house couple of days later. I opened the door for him at dusk, Miss Emily, with sad smile on her face, greeted him. She took him to the bridal room, and that was the last time I saw Homer Barron.

It has been years now, and Miss Emily’s corpse is laid in this house and I know some other corpse is still in the abandoned room. In this morning I announced the town people that there is going to be funeral held for Miss Emily today. There are people coming: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monument, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house. Poor my lady, poor Miss Emily, I thought. She had been a tradition, a history, and the last real lady in this town. But now she is laid dead, and the whole town does not look like they really came for Miss Emily’s farewell sincerely. How hollow and meaningless life she had lived! But now, after I have done with all of my duty for Miss Emily, after all these years in this dreadful house, I am leaving the house through this back door, and I say farewell to this house, to this town, and to Miss Emily.

 

Comparison of “A Rose for Emily” and retelling

“Farewell to My Duty” is a rewrite of William Faulkner’s story “A Rose for Emily” in a different point of view. The protagonist of the stories is Miss Emily. While the original story is narrated by the town people as in first person plural, the new version’s point of view is only one person, Tobe. Because the narrator is the town people in the original story, the story is developed by the facts that they observe outside of the house, and the thoughts how they feel about Miss Emily. However in the rewrite, the narrator is Tobe who lives together with Emily, probably for a long time, so he is able to observe her even inside of the house. The new narrator here, Tobe, is probably the one who knows about Miss Emily the most. Therefore the way how he describes about Miss Emily would be different from the town people’s point of view. In the original story, the town people talk about Miss Emily as a neighbor in their town, but Tobe is Miss Emily’s closest person; Tobe supposed to know more about Miss Emily. Therefore the original story shows the relationship between other people in the town and Miss Emily, whereas the new version focuses on describing the relationship with her closest person Tobe as well as with the town people. Therefore the description of the relationship between Tobe and Miss Emily is more credible and detailed in the new version than in the original version.

In the original story, the relationship between Miss Emily and the town people is well-described. In the town people’s point of view, “Miss Emily had been a tradition, a duty, and a care; a sort of hereditary obligation upon the town” because Miss Emily didn’t pay tax after her father passed away (section 1, paragraph 3). Even though most of the neighbor didn’t like her, they eager to know about Miss Emily just out of curiosity; some felt pity for her; some expected downfall of the Grierson. The town people care about what was happening to Miss Emily not because they really concerned about her health and comfort, but because they were just curious about her. People in the town considered her as some unsolved topic which they can gossip in gathering over years. Throughout the story, the neighbors knew all the details about Emily. For example, in section 3 paragraph 1, the narrator described the appearance of Miss Emily and Homer Barron with details. “Presently we began to see him and Miss Emily on Sunday afternoons driving in the yellow-wheeled buggy and the matched team of bays from the livery stable.” Also the town people knew that she bought arsenic and that she ordered a man’s toilet set and clothing. As we can see in the original story, the whole town had interests in her but just out of curiosity. Even though she didn’t interact with the people at all, they knew about Miss Emily quite well. Also in the story, the town assumed that Tobe would know everything about Miss Emily and tried to get some information about her from him. However they gave up asking him about her later. The narrator in the original story says “He[Tobe] talked to no one, probably not even to her, for his voice had grown harsh and rusty, as if from disuse” (section 4 second to the last paragraph). The only clue of their thoughts about the relationship between Miss Emily and Tobe was his voice; it was rusty from not using it and people can conclude that he doesn’t even talk to Emily. The original story describes well about the relationship between the town and Miss Emily, but there is a limitation of carrying the details about the relationship of Miss Emily and Tobe.

In the new version of the story, however, the narrator Tobe has access to in and out of the house. He has the ability to hear the gossips about Miss Emily when he goes out to the town, and he can watch Miss Emily’s movement as well. Also Tobe as a narrator can easily express his feelings and thoughts about Miss Emily so there are more details which describe the relationship between Tobe and Miss Emily. When Tobe as a narrator talks about the scene when Miss Emily greeted Homer Barron at dusk in paragraph 4, he describes Miss Emily’s face as “with sad smile on her face”. He already knew Miss Emily had bought a poison and furnished Homer Barron’s room as for a bridal. Also he knew “some other corpse is still in the abandoned room” because he never saw Homer Barron again after he went inside the room. He still didn’t mention it to anybody because of the duty to protect Miss Emily. Yet, it was stressful and gloomy staying in the “dreadful house”, but he still had respect for her and admitted that “she had been a tradition, a history, and the last real lady in this town.” (last paragraph). When Tobe found out that Miss Emily bought arsenic, he questioned to himself “Is she going to kill herself?”(paragraph 2) But soon he assumed that she would not kill herself because of a Northern laborer guy. Later even when she ordered a man’s toilet set and outfit, Tobe was wondering about the reason why she bought them, but he never asked her. He did not have any conversation with her not because he did not care about her, but because he trusted her. Also he knew he was “not in the position” to ask or tell her what to do (paragraph 2). Miss Emily was Tobe’s duty to take care of, but at the same time he also felt loyalty and compassion to her. He was the only one who really had respect for her and cared about Miss Emily. He says in the second paragraph; “luckily, regardless of my concern, she didn’t use the poison for herself.” Also when the town guessed that Miss Emily and Tobe didn’t have much of conversation because of his voice, it is not credible because they were just assuming. But when Tobe as a narrator actually mentions that he is not in the position to have conversation with Miss Emily, the readers can have accurate information compared to the imagination of the town people. Therefore the description of the relationship of Tobe and Miss Emily is more credible and detailed in the new version.

To conclude, the original story’s narrator focuses on the relationship between the town people and Miss Emily, whereas the new version’s narrator describes the relationship between Tobe and Miss Emily more effectively. Each point of view can provide us different information even though it is about a same story.

 

 

0
Project #1

My Short Lived Happy Ending

Leave a comment

My Short Lived Happy Ending

I finish my meal, and walk towards the kitchen, when I hear the doorbell ring. I slowly walk to the door. Due to my heart trouble I try not to overwork myself. I open the door to find my sister, Josephine, and my husband’s friend, Richards, standing outside. I invite them in, but they both have a gloomy look on their faces. My sister starts to talk, “Louise, Richards was at the newspaper office when he heard of the railroad disaster.” I nod, wondering what does this have to do with me. She seems to be speaking in broken sentences, and I can hear grief in her voice. As she continues, her voice gets high pitched and cracks, “Among the names of those killed, was Brently Mallard.”

What? The immeasurable pain struck me like a lightning bolt. I immediately scream at the news and threw myself into Josephine’s arms crying. I can’t believe it. My poor husband has been killed. I continue to cry until the grief eased up.  I walk to my room, having no one follow me.

When I enter my room, I quickly lock the door behind me and proceeded to the window. I stood at the open window then sank into the comfortable armchair behind me. My exhaustion troubled me. I observe the landscape outside the window. The tops of the trees are shaking; it must be the new spring life. I take a deep breath and sense the rain in the air. Below in the street, is a peddler. Above, the blue sky is showing in patches due to the clouds that piled up together.

I throw my head back on the cushion of the chair, and remain motionless, except for a sob that came up from my throat and caused me to shake. Why? Why did this have to happen to him? To me?

I thought to myself. I’m a young woman, for my face is clear and calm, the lines on my face show a sign of strength.

Then, I started to feel something come to me. I don’t know what it was, but I feel it creeping up towards me through the sounds, scents, and colors that filled the air.

Now that my husband is gone, I have no one to limit me on my actions. I rise from the chair, and fall back down. I begin to feel empowerment, excitement even. Most women that I know would never feel such a way after their husband’s death. “Free, free, free!” I begin to whisper. My pulses start to race. The terror which had overwhelmed me has dissolved.

I had loved Brently sometimes, though I often did not. I tried to shake that thought out of my head because it doesn’t matter anymore. I knew that once I see my husband at the funeral, in his coffin just lying there, I would grieve once again. Subsequently, the years that I have left will belong to me and no one else. I welcome the time I will have. That power that my husband had, that bended my own, is now gone. Love is an unresolved mystery, which can’t count for the possession of self-assertion that I have just been given access to.

I started to whisper again, “Free! Body and soul free!”

Josephine was behind the door shouting, “Louise, open the door! You will make yourself ill!” I ignore her warning. I am not making myself ill. My husband was who made me ill. “Go away! I am not making myself ill!” I shout in reply.

I think of the days to come, spring and summer days, and all types. All of these days will be my own. I took a deep breath, praying that life may be long.

I finally get up from the chair, and open the door to my sister. I grab her waist and walked down the stairs with her. My newly found freedom has filled me with life. Richards was still here waiting at the bottom.

Then, as we reached the bottom stair, someone opened the front door with a key. My terror returned at the sight of the figure that entered. It was Brently. My heart begins to race and I feel a horrible pain in my chest. I grab my chest and fall, then just pure darkness.

 

 

Comparative Essay – “The Story of An Hour” and “My Short Lived Happy Ending”

“The Story of An Hour” and “My Short Lived Happy Ending” both tell the same story, but with different narration styles. “The Story of An Hour” gives the reader a third person narration. In “My Short Lived Happy Ending,” the reader is given an autodiegetic first person narration. The difference in the narration can change how each story is interpreted.  In the original story, “The Story of An Hour,” the third person limited narrator actually shows the death of Mrs. Mallard, gives access to some of her thoughts, and a view of more than one room in the story, while in the retelling, “My Short Lived Happy Ending,” the first person autodiegetic narrator gives full access to Mrs. Mallard’s thoughts, showing the true reason for her death without actually showing her death, and a view of only the rooms that she is in.

In both the original and retelling the death of Louise was depicted differently. The original states, “It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine’s piercing cry; at Richards’ quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife. When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease–of the joy that kills.” In this quotation, the narrator is showing the death of Louise, but the characters of the story think she died of a heart attack caused by the joy of seeing her husband alive. The retelling states otherwise. “Then, as we reached the bottom stair, someone opened the front door with a key. My terror returned at the sight of the figure that entered. It was Brently. My heart begins to race and I feel a horrible pain in my chest. I grab my chest and fall, then just pure darkness.” At the sight of her husband, Louise’s heart began to race. She died of fear. Fear that her freedom will be taken away from her once more, since her husband wasn’t actually dead. “My heart begins to race and I feel a horrible pain in my chest. I grab my chest and fall, then just pure darkness.” This line was used to represent Mrs. Mallard’s death. It was difficult to include her death into the retelling, but her heart beginning to race and her chest pain was used to symbolize her dying from the heart disease which she had.

In the retelling, there is access to all of Louise’s thoughts during the course of the story. This shows her true feelings about her husband’s death. “Now that my husband is gone, I have no one to limit me on my actions. I rise from the chair, and fall back down. I begin to feel empowerment, excitement even. Most women that I know would never feel such a way after their husband’s death. ”Free, free, free!” I begin to whisper. My pulses start to race. The terror which had overwhelmed me has dissolved” With this access, the reader can interpret that her relationship with her husband wasn’t something that made her happy. It held her back from living her life. In the original, “Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will–as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under the breath: “free, free, free!” The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.” The reader is given Mrs. Mallard’s thoughts, but only to some extent. They’re told that after the death of her husband, Mrs. Mallard comes to realization that she’s finally free. In both stories, the narrator shows the reader that Mrs. Mallard is full of joy after her husband’s death. One difference is that the retelling shows that joy in more detail.

The main differences between these two stories are the type of narrations. “The Story of An Hour,” is written in third person limited, allowing the reader to know what’s going on in multiple places of the story. “Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhold, imploring for admission. “Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door–you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven’s sake open the door.” “Go away. I am not making myself ill.” No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.”  In “My Short Lived Happy Ending,” this part is told in a different view,” Josephine was behind the door shouting,” Louise, open the door! You will make yourself ill!” I ignore her warning. I am not making myself ill. My husband was who made me ill. “Go away! I am not making myself ill!” I shout in reply.” From Louise’s point of view she doesn’t know that her sister is kneeling behind the door, she only sees the room that she’s in.  In the original, the reader is shown both inside and outside of the room.

In writing the retelling of “The Story of An Hour,” the main goal was to give the reader Mrs. Mallard’s point of view. This helps clear up any confusion about what she’s actually feeling, or the reason for her death. Although, the original shows this, it’s not from Mrs. Mallard’s point of view. Her point of view allows the reader to fully understand her true feelings that she develops after she grieved her husband.

0
Project #1

RETELLING COMPARISON ESSAY: “A STORY OF AN HOUR” AND “THE PULSE OF LOVE AND EMOTION”

Leave a comment

“A Story of An Hour” and “The Pulse of Love and Emotions” are two stories of the same kind. In other words, both share the same story however, each tell that story differently; that being the Point of View (POV). “A Story of An Hour” by Kate Chopin is told in a Third Person Limited perspective and the narration is limited to Mrs. Mallard. My retelling, “The Pulse of Love and Emotions” is told in First Person and is told in the eyes and mind of Mrs. Mallard herself.

In the original story, it was mentioned that Mrs. Mallard “was afflicted with a heart trouble…” Using that fact, I decided to use it as a recurring theme. Since the exact diagnosis of her heart wasn’t mentioned, I decided to diagnose her with a heart condition that is triggered through emotions. Throughout the retelling (mainly in the end of each paragraph), there will be a sentence or two that mentions the state of her heart. To simplify things, in each of these sentences, her emotional state is the trigger and her heart rate is the shot from the trigger.

The first two paragraphs of my retelling was a setting setter and pretty much an introduction of what is to come. These two paragraphs were additional scenes and weren’t seen in the original story. The opening sentence however, is a direct setting that can be found in paragraphs 5 and 6 of the original. I also added Mrs. Mallard’s thoughts about her husband. The last sentence of the first paragraph was a rewording to “And yet she had loved him — sometimes.” I reworded that and used it to go in sync with my recurring theme. Part of the setting setter, there was a “commotion” that I added. This commotion is the result of the news that came to Josephine and Richards. This commotion also is what leads to the start of the original story.

Since the news was something depressing, I made Josephine’s image look depressing as well. Josephine had “the eyes of a sloth”. When it was time to break the news, in both stories, Josephine tells Mrs. Mallard in broken sentences. After finding about the death of her husband, Mrs. Mallard goes up and locks herself in her room. From this point on, the differences between each story become more evident. The Chopin’s original was third person limited so we really didn’t get to see what was going on Mrs. Mallard’s mind. In my retelling, we get to go in Mrs. Mallard’s mind and see what she’s seeing.

Mrs. Mallard in the retelling once again describes the scene that she saw. “The scenery was peaceful, the paragon of the spring season. Trees were blooming with new life while the spring rain was pleasurable redolent of that familiar scent.”  She was motionless like the original and as we move more into the story, we see her realize that her husband’s death can be beneficial to her life. She thought of her husband’s death as an opportunity to do whatever she pleases. She repeated “Free, Free, Free!” At this point, her emotions were all filled with happiness and the recurring theme comes back again to tell us that her heart is accelerating.

Mrs. Mallard acknowledges her new form of loneliness however this loneliness is only something she can look forward to. With Mrs. Mallard now being engulfed with happiness and excitement, she now enters her own world. In the original, we only see her actions however, we don’t see her thoughts. Since the retelling is in first person, we can see what she sees. The world she enters is now visible to the readers. This part defines the differences between the original and the retelling because we are seeing something that we couldn’t see in the original. The world she entered was her utopia; A world that she can be free in with no limits. The chains that held her back were released and the ideal spring weather she loved is present. I made this paragraph sound more like the opening scene of the Disney classic, Cinderella. Sparrows were chirping as the fields were filled were springing with spring life. This world is what defined what was to come in her future. “This is what freedom looks like….My World, the real world, and now the beat of my heart now resonated as they begin to fuse.”

The worlds of dreams and reality now were fused. Mrs. Mallard was ready to take in this new world. As a result, she proceeded to finally go out to Josephine who was waiting outside her door. We saw in the original that she had “a feverish triumph in her eyes”. I reworded that a little bit to make her sound more victorious. “I looked at her with the eyes of a soldier who came back from a victorious battle.” Once again, I brought the recurring theme, saying that her heart “raced faster than a Kentucky Saddler.” A Kentucky Saddler is a really fast horse that was often used in races.

The final part came with many additions to make the ending sound more dramatic. I added more sound and imagery to it. One example would be the light that came in when the door was opening. The light was a blinding light that we didn’t see in the original. Once again, this scene was purely just to add more drama. The light came with a shadow; that being Brentley Mallard, her husband. We knew that Mrs. Mallard was full of shock so to add to that shock, more interior thoughts were added. “Don’t tell me what I think it is.” “No no no no!” Little thoughts liked that I felt add more drama. In the original, we didn’t know how she was feeling at the time so the extras also added more thought for the readers. Mrs. Mallard felt weak and her heart was racing faster. As a result, she collapsed and like the original, we hear the “piercing” scream of Josephine and we also see Brently Mallard (this time in her eyes). There, her life ended. Since it’s first person, she wouldn’t see the doctor’s evaluation (she’s dead) so I decided to make her final words, their diagnosis. “It was the joy that kills.”

In conclusion, my retelling closely followed the original story except that I added more details to add to the drama. Since I was turning something Third Person to First Person, my goal was to go into the mind of Mrs. Mallard and bring out more of her emotions. I also wanted to add more details along with making the things not known, known. In other words, I wanted to make the story more easier to understand. By adding more details, I felt that the story was more easier to understand. In the end, we saw what was in Mrs. Mallard’s mind the whole time and we saw what she felt in her final minutes.

0
draft, Week 7

Retelling Comparison – A Story of an Hour

1 Comment

For the retelling I picked “The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin, where Mrs. Mallard is told about the death of her husband. In the original story, we get to know the thought process of Mrs. Mallard only and the other characters actions or thought process is just left out in thin air. For the retelling I told the story in the view of how Mrs. Mallard sister Josephine would be feeling in such a situation.

In the original story, we first learn that Mrs. Mallard is told about the death of her husband and how she is feeling when is told about the news. In my retelling I start by showing what kind of day it is and how Josephine learns the news about the death of her sister’s husband. I also show how Josephine feels at the time that she learns the news and how she is approaching the situation. We don’t get to know how Josephine is feeling prior to her telling the news to her sister in the original story, so we cannot assume what she is going through or what kind of feelings are being shown by her.

In the retelling, the part where Josephine is telling the news to Mrs. Mallard there are small details that get added such as how Josephine is feeling really nervous and does not know how to tell her sister about the death of the husband. We also get to know that to calm herself down and tell her sister about the news, she drinks tea and takes her time in telling her in order to not greatly affect her health, in which she has a heart problem. From the retelling, we get to know what kind of character Josephine is instead of not knowing at all in the original story.

After Mrs. Mallard knows about the death of her husband she goes into her room and sits in a chair near the window. In the original story, we get to know how the room is like and what Mrs. Mallard is doing while sitting in that chair. We get to know how Mrs. Mallard is going through the pain of losing her husband to getting happy that she gets to live her life the way she wants to; now that her husband is dead.

In the retelling, we get to see a different view of how the other characters are responding to Mrs. Mallard locking herself in her room. We are first presented that when Mrs. Mallard goes to room to be alone is a standard respond to knowing that a loved one has past away. We get to see the different views when they try to talk to Mrs. Mallard when she is in the room and does not get an answer from her.

In the original story, we know that Mrs. Mallard is going through the process of accepting the death of her husband and how she is going to live her life now. In the retelling of the story, we get to see that the other characters assume that this type of action taken by Mrs. Mallard can lead to one that hurts herself because of her health problems. The only action that is taken in the original story that we know is Josephine calling out to Mrs. Mallard to come out of the room. In the retelling, we get to know that more action other than calling out to Mrs. Mallard is taken. Josephine tells Richard to call the doctor and find a way to open the door. From that we can tell that the other characters are worried to what is happening to Mrs. Mallard in the room since they only thing they know is that she is sitting in a chair without and response from her. From the retelling we get to see the emotions that Josephine is feeling from the moment Mrs. Mallard goes into her room to when she leaves it. We get to know that they took early action in calling the doctor in case something happens to Mrs. Mallard and that they tried to get access into the room instead of leaving her alone in the room.

In the final part of the story, both the original and retelling show is a similar view, when Mrs. Mallard comes out of her room and she goes down the stairs to see her husband which causes her to have a heart attack. The only thing we get to see more in the retelling is how Josephine felt when she saw Mrs. Mallard leave her room and the face she has. We get to see the emotion of Josephine from being worried of what happening to her sister to feeling relieved that she came out of her room just fine. We also get to see that when they walk down the stairs, the emotion that goes on when they see the husband is not dead and the facial expression that Mrs. Mallard express at that moment.

With the retelling of this story, we get to know more about the emotions that the other characters felt during this situation. The goal of this retelling was to show that Mrs. Mallard was not the only one that had to face this painful experience, but the other characters also faced one of their own with how to deal with Mrs. Mallard actions in response to the husband deaths.

0
draft, Homework Instructions, Week 7

Responding to our retelling comparisons

Leave a comment

As with the drafts of the retellings, you’ll post your drafts of Part 2, comparisons of the original story and your retelling here and then as homework for Week 7, write comments on at least 2 classmates’ drafts.

For your post:

  • title: the title you’re giving your comparative essay
  • include a link to your retelling draft
  • paste your comparative essay into the post
  • category: choose Week 7 under Homework AND draft under Project #1
  • tags: choose the tag for the story you’re writing about, plus any others you think are appropriate

In the comments you write to your classmates, reflect back to them any or all of the following:

  • what do you understand is the argument made in the comparative essay?
  • what is the thesis statement?
  • does the thesis statement reflect the argument?
  • do you have any suggestions about the examples chosen to support the argument?
  • do you have any suggestions about the organization of the argument?
  • what do you not understand?
  • what is clear and convincing to you?

Remember that in class last week we decided that the final version is due on Wednesday on our site:

  • post your retelling using the category Project #1
  • tag your post with the story you’re working with plus any other tag you find appropriate
  • for the post’s title, use your retelling’s title
  • in the post, write your retelling’s title, then paste in the retelling
  • next, leave two blank lines and then in the same post, add your comparison’s title and paste in your comparison.

I look forward to reading your Project #1 results and gathering all of your hard work into our anthology using a WordPress tool called Anthologize.

0
Homework, Project #1, Week 7

John’s Voice / Part 2 – Project 1

1 Comment

Although the original narrator’s is told in first person autodiegetic from Jane’s perspective; the retelling gives a different vantage point being told by John in the first person autodiegetic narrative form.

“The Yellow Wallpaper” showed the reader the unraveling of a woman and how she perceived her situation. Throughout her narration we get a sense that she realizes that what she is feeling may be something deeper and much more substantial than what her husband John is leading her to believe about her condition. She wrestles with her current state of anxiety and depression because she has been told by John who is a doctor that it is nothing more than exhaustion. He brings her to house that he promises will be her sanctuary so that she may gain repose and get back to her old self. She has been anxious and feeling melancholy since the birth of their son and does her best to be pleasant, and tries to do as John bids her to do: rest, light exercise, eat well, and sleep. He ignores the fixation that she begins to develop with the wallpaper in the house and does his best to convince her to grab hold of her anxieties, and preoccupy herself with her recovery and rest. He issues a few warnings, though subtle, that if she does not improve that he will take more drastic measures and send her to the repudiated doctor that has handled other women with her similar condition.

“He said we came here solely on my account, that I was to have perfect rest and all the air I could get. “Your exercise depends on your strength, my dear,” said he, “and your food somewhat on your appetite; but air you can absorb all the time.”

“But John says if I feel so, I shall neglect proper self control; so I take pains to control myself – before him, at least, and that makes me very tired.”

It seems that in her quest to please and heed his word that she ignores the bubbling anxieties she feels.

It’s also interesting to see her fear of what may happen if she is honest about how she is feeling.

“Better in body perhaps – I began, and I stopped short, for he sat up straight and looked at me with such a stern, reproachful look that I could not say another word.”

The fact that she took care to keep her creeping hysteria from John shows how there was a lack of trust in their marriage. She should not been able to confide in her husband that what she felt was more than exhaustion?

“The Yellow Wallpaper” told from John’s perspective gives us his interpretation of Jane’s behavior. He married his beautiful Jane, and as a man of prestige due to his occupation as a doctor, had hoped to have the perfect picture of domesticity. He does his best as a husband to show Jane love, care and patience, but encourages her to help herself. I correlate the details in my retelling by showcasing his  bewilderment and slight exasperation at the fact that she is taking longer to recover than expected, and that she must in turn push herself to take care to his recommendations, for not only is he her husband, but a doctor as well.

“She should be focusing her thoughts on resting and doing light exercise, but absolutely no writing. I feel that it adds to her whims of her strange caprice. For heaven’s sake, I am a doctor and know how to handle her over exhaustion and need for bit of tranquility. I feel that I have done a fine job at picking the perfect sanctuary. Doesn’t she realize that I know best?”

What I try to convey in John’s version is not only the frustration that he feels at Jane’s whims, but also how he tries to convince himself that there is nothing truly disturbing about her behavior.

“If she doesn’t recover soon, she must go to Weir Mitchell for extensive treatment for her exhaustion and nervousness. The look of horror that overshadowed her face at the mere suggestion broke my heart even further, but at the same time gave me hope! Jane’s insistence that she did not require such treatment made me realize that she is slowly returning to her sound mind, for surely if she were truly on the verge of hysteria she would not protest with such conviction.”

This was the turning point in the retelling in which we start to see that it’s not that John is so domineering, but more so that he doesn’t want to see what is right before him, and that Jane’s condition may be worse than he wants to let himself believe.  We get to see that both Jane and John were both suffering from not being able to face difficulties about their spouses, and that distrust and fear on both their parts led to Jane’s unraveling.

I chose this”The Yellow Wallpaper” in particular because I felt that in relationships, someone may seem like the one who is at fault in certain situations ,and that it’s so important to get both sides of story. A person’s interpretation of a situation and why they may be behaving so is what causes most disconnection between people, and I think that with both stories we are able to see that within the complexity of this couple.

0
draft, Project #1, Week 6

“POOR EMILY”

Leave a comment

When Miss Emily’s father died Tobe was worried about her.   “God knows how this poor woman will survive without her father,” he muttered to himself.”  He had worked as the Grierson family servant since Miss Emily was a little girl.   He never knew her mother.  When she became a young lady he could not understand why her father never allowed any of the men who were interested in her to court her.  It seemed in the eyes of Mr. Grierson, no man was good enough for her.

“Tobe,” Mr. Grierson would say.  “Show this young man to door.” This happened several times.

The young men would fidget nervously with their hat and would manage to say, “thank you for your time Mr. Grierson,” as if showing Mr. Grierson respect would change his mind.

He and his daughter had a close bond.  Now that he was gone Miss Emily was alone, husbandless and with no family or friends in town, this meant she was bound to be lonely.

He watched her sitting next to the bed on which her father took his last breath.  His body still lay there. He could hear her whispering, “father!”  “Father!”  “Can you hear me?”  “Please wake up.”    Several hours after Mr. Grierson’s death he cautiously approached her.  “Miss Emily,” he said, “should I fetch the coroner to take the body now.”  She turned her head and tears ran down her cheek.  Then she spoke with anger.  “No one is to touch my father!” she screamed.  “No one,”  “Do you hear me Tobe!?”  It was as if the grief she felt was making her mad.   He had never seen her so upset before.  “Alright Miss Emily,” was all he said.

The women folk from town came calling on the second day.   With great effort she manage to pull herself together.   When she met them at the door she was well dressed and very composed.  They had no idea the grief and pain she was feeling.  No one was admitted inside the house.    After Tobe opened the door she would look her visitors in the eye and in a curt voice she would say, “my father is not dead.”

One day after she abruptly closed the door she sat down in the parlor and wept.  Through her sobbing she said, “Tobe, I am alone.”   “Why did he have to leave me?”  He was unsure how to respond.  He was not use to her expressing her personal feelings to him.   Finally he said, “I am here Miss Emily, you are not alone.”

On the second day the ministers and doctors were admitted in the house by Tobe.  They did their best to persuade Miss Emily to let them bury her father.  She would not relent.   Just as they decided to use the law to force her to release the body Tobe appeared at the coroner’s office.   “Miss Emily is ready to bury her father.” Was all he said.

It was not an easy task for Tobe to get Miss Emily to relent.   “This is wrong Miss Emily,” he said to her earlier that morning. “Your father need to be put to rest.”  She turned from her position at her father’s bedside.  He saw the grief in her eyes, but he also saw that she was more subdued.  “You are right Tobe,” she had said.  “Fetch the coroner.”

 

It took him days to get the smell of death out of that house.   Miss Emily never acknowledge the smell.  It was as if it did not bother her one bit.

After she buried her father she became a recluse, barely leaving the house.   Tobe heard some of the gossip when he went to town on errands for her.   “That’s her negro,” they would say.   “Did you hear?”  a woman said in the grocery store,  “she is broke.”   The other woman chimed in, “I heard all he left her was that old house.”   As the conversation continued he heard yet another woman saying.  “The Griersons always act like they’re better than us, now she will see what it’s like to live like the rest of us.” “Poor Miss Emily,” they all said in unison.

In his mind he visualized himself going up to these women and defending Miss Emily.   He would tell them what a wonderful person she was.  Of course he could not.  He was her servant and there were different rules for people of his race.

One day while they were inside, a noise from outside interrupted the silence of that big old house.  “What’s going on Tobe?” she asked.  “Oh Miss Emily it’s that man Homer Barron cussing those Niggers.” “Who?”  She said.    “Homer Barron,” he repeated.  “He is out there with some niggers paving the sidewalks.”

“Tobe!” she yelled as the noise became even more bothersome.  “Fetch me my hat.”  He was surprised she wanted to go out and quickly fetched her hat.  He opened the door for her and watched as she ventured to the gate.

He was unsure about the conversation that transpired but when she came back inside, he thought he saw a faint smile on her face, something he had not seen in years.

He was shock when the doorbell rang that Sunday and Homer Barron stood there.

He had seen him in town on many occasion since work started on the pavements.  From what he knew he was the foreman of the contracted construction company.  He was a Yankee, a big, dark ready man.  He had a big booming voice and eyes lighter than his face.  He was charming.  The ladies liked him, the little boys followed him around and the men respected him.    Everyone knew Homer Barron.

Tobe! He said with hat in his hand.  “I am here to call on Miss Emily.”   Tobe was unsure what to say, but he quickly recovered and said, “wait here.”  He closed the door.  He was surprised all over again when he saw Miss Emily well dressed and wearing her favorite hat coming down the stairs.  Her face looked bright, she was beaming.   “She looks happy.” He thought to himself.   Despite the fact that she seemed to be expecting Homer Barron Tobe still informed her.  “Miss Emily, a Mr. Homer Barron is at the door.”  “Thank you Tobe,” she said as she waltz through the door he held open for her.    He watched as he held her hand to help her into the yellow horse drawn buggy.

This became a routine.  Every Sunday Homer Barron came by with the horse buggy to pick up Miss Emily.  The women in town now had new events to fuel their gossip machine.   Many were happy for Miss Emily.  Even Tobe was happy.   He noticed Miss Emily was in a pleasant mood since she started to spend time with Homer Baron.

It seemed the town folks especially the women could not make up their minds,  this minute they were happy for Miss Emily and the next minute they gossip about her relationship.   They felt it was not a good example for the young girls in Town for Miss Emily to spend so much time with Mr. Barron without a chaperone.   They forced the minister to speak with her.   Tobe admitted him.  At the end of his speech about moral standards Miss Emily merely said to him.  “What goes on in my life is nobody’s business.”  Then she summoned Tobe and said, “kindly show this gentleman out.”

A few weeks later when her cousins showed up at her house she was upset and told them in no uncertain terms that they too should stay out of her affairs.

By that time all the sidewalks had been paved and Homer Barron left town.   No one knew what to make of it.  After all the whole town thought they would be married.

Even Tobe thought they were to be married.  He had seen them together and saw how happy they were in each other’s company.   When Tobe picked up a man’s toilet set and men’s clothing and a night shirt that Miss Emily had ordered, he felt sure they were to be married.

The cousins left town and sure enough Homer Barron returned.  That Sunday he took Miss Emily on a buggy ride just like old times.

Tobe saw her when she returned to the house.  She did not look happy.  “Are you alright Miss Emily?” he asked.   She did not reply.   Next day she insisted that she have to go to town.  She returned with a package from the drug store.   She placed the package in the kitchen.  Tobe could not resist opening the package.   He read the label out loud, “for rats.”  He was puzzled because he had not seen rat in the house for a long time.

One day at dusk Homer Barron came for supper.  Tobe admitted him through the kitchen door.   He could not understand why he did not use the front door.  “Hi Tobe.”  “Miss Emily asked me to use the kitchen door.”

When Tobe walked by the parlor he overheard Homer Baron talking to Miss Emily.  “It’s the same as we discussed before,” Homer said.  “I am not ready to get married.”   Miss Emily was quiet for a moment then with grace and dignity she rose and looked at Homer.  “Would you like something to eat,” she asked.”  She excused herself and went to the kitchen.  She returned later with a tray.

As they ate she did her best to seem light hearted, but deep down she was hurting.  After the meal Homer Barron just sat there as if he could not move.

“Tobe!” Miss Emily said, “Take Mr. Barron upstairs to his room.”  He knew exactly which room she spoke of,  for earlier that day she had asked him to lay out all the items she brought for him in that room.

The next day he thought Homer had left town.  He brought Miss Emily her breakfast.  Her faced looked sad and withdrawn.  It reminded him of when she lost her father.

He noticed the room he had put Homer Barron in was locked with a key.

Then the smell started. At first it was faint like when Mr. Grierson died.  Then it got strong and overpowering.  It was the smell of death he thought.   He was not sure what to make of it.   Sometimes she would open the door to the room she had set up for Homer and stay there for a long time.

The smell went away in a couple of months.   Tobe was glad.  He was too old to track down where that smell was coming from.

After that Miss Emily never went out again.  She got older and frail from lack of fresh air and sunlight.

When she took sick and died Tobe felt sorry for her.  She had not experience the joy of marriage and family.  He left soon after her death.  He had family in another town he would be staying with.  He did not go to the funeral and he was not there when they broke open the door to Homer Barron’s room and found the man lying there.   Strands of grey hair and the impression of Miss Emily’s body was on the bed.    Poor Emily,  she could not have him in life, but she certainly had him all to herself in death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

0
draft, Week 6

The Story of An Hour – Josephine view

1 Comment

It was a nice beautiful afternoon, when my sister’s friend Richard came over to my house and told me about the news of my sister’s husband Brently had died in a railroad accident. “How could this have happen,” I said with a sadden voice. “Have you told Louise about this yet?” Richard just stood there and finally said “How could I break this news to her without breaking her heart.” “I was hoping you can tell your sister about her husband,” Richard had said with a troubled face.

We went to Louise’s house to tell her about the tragic news about her husband. On the way to her house we had discussed about how we should break the news about her husband and that we had to take caution on the effect that this will have on Louise. As we approached Louise’s house tears started to come down from my eyes, as I was afraid that this would be too much of a burden that Louise can handle. After calming down and the tears have stopped, we rang the bell on Louise’s house.

The door opens and Louise greets us with a smile, “Hello there Josephine and Richard.” When we go inside we went into the living room and Louise brings us a cup of tea. As I was sitting there with Louise, I started to feel tears coming down again when I think about breaking this news to Louise. I resolved myself to tell Louise the news as I was drinking the tea. When I finished the cup of tea Louise brought, she asked if I wanted more tea. “Louise, you have to listen to me carefully now,” as Louise listens with a calm face “ Your……Husband……..Brently………he was in a railroad accident today.” “Richard found out the news today when he was at the newspaper office and Brently’s name was on the list of those that have been killed.”

Louise calm face suddenly turned pale and she was just sitting in the chair with no expression. Then she started crying like she was a newborn baby and I held her in my arms. Louise cried in my arms for a while and when she stopped crying she slowly went upstairs to her room. As I was following her up to the room, she closed the door and locked it before I can go inside of it.

I waited outside of Louise room, but I did not hear any noise from inside the room and I started to worry about Louise’s health. I started to bang on the door and yell “Louise, are you ok?” “Please open the door.” There was no response from Louise so I looked through the keyhole of the door and I can briefly see Louise sitting on a chair near the window. Louise seemed to be lifeless as she did not move at all. My worry started to increase, as I called for Richard.

“Richard……Richard,” as I yelled the loudest I could. Richard came running up the stairs wondering what was going on. “Louise is just sitting on the chair near the window, I’m worried that her heart is giving her troubles.” As I told this to Richard I asked if he can call the doctor over and find a way to open the door. When Richard went downstairs to call the doctor, I suddenly hear a faint noise from the room and I put my ear closer to the door. “Free! Body and soul free!” I can faintly hear Louise saying this.

I started to panic and wondering what this message can mean so I kneed down and put my mouth by the key hole and started to beg Louise to open the door. “Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door—you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven’s sake open the door.” Louise yells back answering my cry for her to open the door “Go away. I am not making myself ill.” I started to worry more and kept wondering what she was doing inside that room. I yell for Richard “Richard have you found a way to open the door yet?” Suddenly the door opens and Louise comes out of the room. “Louise,” I yelled with a worried face but she seem to not notice my cry for her.

As Louise came out of the room, she did not have a face of one that just lost her husband. Louise looked like she came out of a fight with the devil himself and had the face of a goddess that won the battle with the devil. Louise helped me off my knees and held me by the waist.
“Let’s go downstairs,” she said to me with happy face. As we went down the stairs, Richard was waiting for us and said “Louise, are you ok?”

As we walked down the stairs the door suddenly opened and a familiar body figure was at the door.

“Brently!” I yelled as loud as I could. I turned around to look at Louise, but her face turned pale as seen a ghost. Richard tried to block Brently from Louise’s view, but it was too late. Brently stood there with a confused look on his face, as he had no clue on what was
happening.

Then a thud sound could be heard and Louise had fallen to the floor. “Louise!” I cried. Louise showed no sign of breathing. “Richard where is the doctor?” I asked while panicking. A few minutes later the doctor shows up and claimed that Louise had died of a heart disease.

0
draft, Week 6

My Short lived Happy Ending

7 Comments

I finish my meal and walk towards the kitchen, when I hear the doorbell ring. I slowly walk to the door. Due to my heart trouble, I try not to overwork myself. When I open the door, it was my sister Josephine and my husband’s friend, Richards. I invite them in, but they both have a gloomy look on their faces. My sister starts to talk, “Louise, Richards was at the newspaper office when he heard of the railroad disaster.” I nod, wondering what does this have to do with me. She seems to be speaking in broken sentences, and I can hear grief in her voice. As she continues, her voice gets high pitched and cracks, “Among the names of those killed, was Brently.”

What? The immeasurable pain struck me like a lightning bolt. I immediately scream at the news and threw myself into Josephine’s arms crying. I can’t believe it. My poor husband has been killed. I continue to cry until the grief eased up.  I walked to my room, having no one follow me.

When I go into my room, I quickly locked the door behind me and proceeded to the window. I stood at the open window, and sank into the comfortable armchair behind me. My exhaustion troubled me. I observe the landscape outside the window. The tops of the trees are shaking; it must be the new spring life. I take a deep breath and sense the rain in the air. Below in the street, is a peddler. Above, the blue sky is showing in patches due to the clouds that piled up together.

I throw my head back on the cushion of the chair, and remain motionless, except for a sob that came up from my throat and caused me to shake. Why? Why did this have to happen to him? To me?

I thought to myself. I’m a young woman, for my face is clear and calm, the lines on my face show a sign of strength.

Then, I started to feel something come to me. I don’t know what it was, but I feel it creeping up towards me through the sounds, scents, and colors that filled the air.

Now that my husband is gone, I have no one to limit me on my actions. I rise from the chair, and fall back down. I begin to feel empowerment, excitement even. Most women that I know would never feel such a way after their husband’s death. ”Free, free, free!” I begin to whisper. My pulses start to race. The terror which had overwhelmed me has dissolved.

I had loved Brently sometimes, though I often did not. I tried to shake that thought out of my head because it doesn’t matter anymore. I knew that once I see my husband at the funeral, in his coffin just lying there, I would grieve once again, but subsequently, the years that I have left will belong to me and no one else. I welcome the time I will have. That power that my husband had that bended my own is now gone. Love is an unresolved mystery, which can’t count for the possession of self-assertion that I have just been given access to.

I started to whisper again,” Free! Body and soul free!”

Josephine was behind the door shouting,” Louise, open the door! You will make yourself ill!” I ignore her warning. I am not making myself ill. My husband was who made me ill. “Go away! I am not making myself ill!” I shout in reply.

I think of the days to come, spring and summer days, and all types. All of these days will be my own. I took a deep breath, praying that life may be long.

I finally get up from the chair, and open the door to my sister. I grab her waist and walked down the stairs with her. My newly found freedom has filled me with life. Richards was still here waiting at the bottom.

Then, as we reached the bottom stair, someone opened the front door with a key. My terror returned at the sight of the figure that entered. It was Brently. My heart begins to race and I feel a horrible pain in my chest. I grab my chest and fall, then just pure darkness.

0