Short Story : ' The Maid '

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

One afternoon I was at Mama´s General store buying some provisions and I saw Mama’s little granddaughter Marguerite, who was extremely shy and I had seen her before with her brother when they came to the town. She was quiet, she had been mute for five years after an incident that changed her life.At the age of eight she had been raped by her mother´s boyfriend. Her uncles had killed the man and she had felt responsible for his murder therefore as à result of guilt she went into a mute stage. After I had payed for the provisions, mama had asked me if I need Bailey her oldest grandson to carry my bags, but instead of him, I wanted Marguerite to carry my bags, for a reason. That being said, I wanted to help her break out of her nutshell, and for her to speak again. The moment I saw Marguerite, I knew there was something amazing about her which no other girl had in town. Therefore, I had told mama that I would like Marguerite to carry my bags. Marguerite looked at me as if I was calling her name in a beautiful, tranquil cave that had echoed so softly that It ran so smooth like the wind. Mama and I had exchanged the elderly looks,which Marguerite did not understand by what I had meant, and with mama’s permission it was ok for her to go with me. On the way to my house we had talked about how well she was doing in school but she wasn't talking. She was enticed by the way I was pronouncing her name and would stare at me. She was shocked that I choose her to assist me out of everyone in the town. The walk to my house was overall quiet, she was mute all the way, shy, nervous and was wondering why I chose her to take my bags home with me. I wanted her to know that somebody loved her and that

When I woke up in the morning, my mom had left for work. My dad was singing in the kitchen, banging pots around. I got up, tiptoed down the hall, washed my face. A neatly wrapped present lay on the bathroom counter. It was addressed to me. I stuffed it into my robe pocket, and rushed back down the hall. Under the covers, I opened the package. On the first page of a small, leather notebook, an inscription read: to a writer, love your mother. I never wrote anything in the notebook. I could never think of anything good

and carpe dime. The poem is set out into three verses; 1.-If, 2. - But

These are a few clothes that I have not worn and thought you can possibly return them since the price tag is on them. I wish you the best.

Summary: In this poem the speaker recgonizes an olf frind named Melia who is now a wealthy woman and has turned very beautiful. However, Melia declares that she is ruined now, but the speaker still has an ultimate desire to be just like Melia. The speaker then talks about if this is ruined then I wish to be a ruined woman. Melia then proclaims how the speaker does not have what it takes to be ruined.

A few months after she quit praying, I saw her mending some old boots, they were tattered and torn, I asked her why she won’t just buy new ones, she said my father made those boots for her before they married each other, he was a cobbler, this was the first time she spoke about him. Later that day, I snuck into his workroom, which was usually locked by a key only mother had, but she put them away at night and I had taken them. The room was dusty and dark, so I took a candle inside, there was a table in the corner with a lantern hanging above, it was covered in tools and old leather and fabric, along with shelves full of old designs and tool manuals. I remembered how my mother talked so fondly of him, but I also remembered how sad she was all of the time, so I took it upon myself to rummage through all of his old schematics and designs and I found one tucked away in a book, it

I Am so full of emotion I cannot even explain to you how happy and nervous I was today. Today made me forget all the time I was away from Daisy. This girl, this beautiful girl that I have not seen for almost 5 years, was finally going to be in my presence again. My body could not handle the concept. When nick heard a car pull up he went to go open the door and I felt like I was dreaming. When she walked in my heart just relaxed, all I did was stare at her. Stared deep into her eyes and I found it was impossible to let go of my gaze. She stared back almost uncertain that we were in the same room together. “ we haven't met for many years” said daisy, her voice as matter-of-fact as it could ever be.” “Five years next November”

Some people go through life wanting to become someone they are not. They dream of having material objects that would make them what they think is better than what they are now. Other people, on the other hand, feel as if they are destined to become someone due to traumatic events that have happened in there life or where they came from. In the poem “The Ruined Maid” by Thomas Hardy, a girl named ‘Melia runs into a town girl she used to know at the market. The girl continues to lavish over ‘Melias new found riches of materials and happiness. ‘Melia’s emotions, though, exhibit the opposite of what her old friend assumes, revealing that ‘Melia will never completely change into the person she has appeared to become and will never

When looking at the title, The Ruined Maid, the first thought that comes to mind is that of a woman that has acted scandalously. This poem was published in England during the Victorian Era, a time when women were expected to remain “pure” until marriage. Any woman that had sexual relations outside of marriage was considered “ruined” and unmarriable. This poem is a satire on the double standered men had for women, as it was common for men to hire prostitutes when single and have mistresses when married. In the beginning of the poem, a girl named Melia is introduced, a past friend or aquantance of the narrator.

I wish my parents would have taken me with them, to go take care of Grandma. Instead they decided to leave me with their elderly neighbor Rosa Parks. She's actually a really nice lady, she's just not my parents. Although even my Mama can't make sugar cookies as well as she can, there soft and buttery and delicious. She promised me when I got here earlier this morning that she was going to tell me a story from her life every night. So here I am sitting on her coach waiting as she searches for a picture of her grandfather. I'm not exactly sure why. Finally she comes back from searching through her drawers and sits next to me on the couch. “ This is a picture of my grandfather,” she told me. “ We moved to live with him in 1915 when I was

The morning was gloomy and cold. Today was November 22nd at the Hope Lutheran Church. Today, my family and I were attending Grandma’s memorial service. My family looked so cleaned up and fancy. I thought if this wasn’t a memorial service we were going to, we looked like we were going to a fancy dinner. Nevertheless, it wasn’t the latter. All 14 of us piled into two separate cars and headed on our way. I felt empty and hollow approaching the church. Today would be the day that my family and I would shed waterfalls streaming from our eyes. The church had felt homely and rustic before, but now it felt dark and sad. Grandma didn’t deserve to die, I thought, as I went through the doors of the church. The church felt warm inside, like a warm blanket from the dryer. Why is 2014 such a bad year for us? Why did Uncle Mike die? Why

In the short story “The Beggar Maid”, Alice Munro explores the opposing force created from contrasting social identities between partners which later can create an abusive relationship. Your social identity, in terms of social class, is an understanding of yourself and is based off of where you are seen in a social hierarchy. Your socioeconomic position is a contributing factor in an abusive relationship. The term abuse tends to correlate with physical actions, however, it is important to acknowledge that abuse can also be psychological. Coming from a small town and a lower- class family, Rose is able to attend university due to a scholarship she received. Once at university, Rose

All women desire to feel beautiful and loved. In the Victorian Era, women took hierarchy seriously with there only being two social statuses- poor and wealthy. Some women would do whatever it took to escape the low social classification, even if it was by an unspeakable act. In Thomas Hardy’s poem “The Ruined Maid,” he gives an example of an appalling act one woman commits to obtain a high social status. During this age, the poor people lived on the farms, while the wealthy lived in the city. ‘Melia, the maid in the story, used to live on a farm, but eventually became a part of the higher social class by being “ruined”. In the Victorian era, the term “ruined” plainly meant a person was no longer pure. Through imagery, rhyme, and irony, Hardy tells a story of how a woman sacrifices her values to live an envious, lush life.

Waking up was easy. Getting out of bed was the hard part. I sighed and curled up in my bed wanting to just stay this way unil I died. There was a small knock on my door as mother entered my room and sat beside me. "How are you feeling, and dont lie, because I know you feel like dying and never leaving your bed." She smirked and pulled me into her arms. I clutched onto her and held her tight as she pat my back. "Go put on something nice, do you hair and make up look your very best and show them how strong you are." She smiled and kiss my forehead "You will always be my daughter Ivy never forget that" I nodded a growing smile on my face as she stood. "I know it feels terrible now, and what ever happend to you I know is unforgettable." She looked me with a sad smile on her face "But you have people who love you dearly, so go out and show them that you are not that scared little girl anymore. Show them that they dont define who you are. Be proud you survived" She held her head high with a smiled before leaving.