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Thinking of Life while Sailing to England - Essay Example

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This paper "Thinking of Life while Sailing to England" focuses on the fact that today, I am sailing to England. I never had an idea that this day would finally come. Martha, the kindest of nuns I have known, has been there for me whenever I have needed her…
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Thinking of Life while Sailing to England
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Diary- August 09, 1930 Today, I am sailing to England. I never had an idea that this day would finally come. Martha, the kindest of nuns I have known, has been there for me whenever I have needed her. She is really a friend in need. I wish she knew my secret. I wish she knew that I am in the second month of pregnancy. How I wish so! But then again, if she knew, she would never have arranged for me to sail to England, and to go into service in London. She would not have taken that big a risk for me. Still, I am thankful to her for being there for me; for making me escape the cruel aunt and her hateful and detestable children; and, to escape the horrible life I have been living in Ireland. I simply want to forget Dublin, my home town. Ah! How I go back into a flashback. I am writing these lines as I sail to England on the vast ship. I do not know these people. Everybody is a total stranger. But, no one is as cruel as that despicable aunt. As I look down into the deep sea, the workhouse at Dublin, where I was born, flashes before my eyes. I was born an orphan as my mammy died while giving birth to me. I never saw my mammy. I wish I knew how she looked. I wish I knew how her lap felt beneath my frail body. Ah! The cruelties of life! I know that my life would have been a bit better than it has been, if my mammy would have been alive. My mammy died, and I became my own mammy. Other children of my age, especially girls, walked to parks with their mammies, hand in hand. And I would walk to the park alone. With the passage of time, I adjusted with the circumstances, and forgot the fact that I had no mammy or daddy. I understood that I was special enough, so special that God forgot to give me parents. Wow! And that is so ridiculous. If God does not give parents to special people, then every orphan should be happy. The workhouse is still flashing in front of my eyes, and my mind is wandering in the times when I was a young kid. My grandparents were there at the workhouse. But, the nuns removed me from there; and, handed me over to the cruel lady with four pitiless children. Ah! And now that pitiless and shameless aunt and her filthy kids flash before my eyes. Oh! How I hate my eyes! I want to forget the hateful face of that cruel aunt. I remember Jane Eyre’s pitiful condition, from the novel I stole from a bookstore some years back. I have never been able to read that novel, because I did not understand much from it. I read the book till Jane’s account when she was living with her brutal aunt and her cruel kids. I very much relate to Jane, except that my aunt was not my relative, but a total stranger in the village. She and her kids treated me so badly that, one day, I decided to mix poison in her bedtime cup of milk. But, I had no money to buy poison. I bet that would be very expensive. So, I decided to mix the rat killing powder in the dough which I would prepare in the morning to make the bread. The memories make me smile now. I pushed aside the idea of killing her, because I knew that she did not deserve the death of a rat; instead, she deserved much uglier death. Those were the worst days of my life. The aunt would make me do the whole house work. I would wash clothes for her and her kids. I would prepare meals. I would do the dishes, and clean her house. And in return, she would give me some small loaves of bread three times a day. The kids were hateful toward me. They did not play with me. They called me a bitch. And yes! I was bitch enough to ditch them, because if I was not a bitch, I would not be sailing to England, far away from them. Nobody sympathized with me. Nobody asked me what I wanted. Nobody was there for me, except Martha, the kind nun. Martha worked in the same workhouse in which I was born. She was the only kind nun in the whole workhouse. There were other nuns, fat, ugly, dark, and filthy. They were not kind to me. They treated me as if I was a dirty little toad. But, they did not know that I was a bitch, as I said earlier. Martha would bring me candies and chocolates every week. She would give me little gifts on Christmas Eves. On Easters, she would take me out to the town. She was like my godmother. She had objected with the idea of giving me away to the lady in the village. But, nobody had listened to her. When I was living with that cruel lady in the village, Martha would come over every week to meet me. She was worried about me. She knew that I was not happy. She wanted to do something for me. She knew that I was able to do something great in life, as I was good at school, which I had joined at the workhouse. I kept on going to the school even after I came to live with the cruel lady. It was at the school that I met John, the 15 year old guy from Dublin. He was cute. I liked him. He was tall, dark, and handsome. We met while going back to our homes one day. He was cute, but not decent enough to be serious with a girl. We started meeting every day; and, after two months, I came to know that I was pregnant. I prefer not to write the whole story here, like how we started dating, where we started going on dates, and how he took me to bed. The important thing is that his parents shifted to another city, and he disappeared with them. Now, I was there with my dirty little secret. I was ashamed enough to let anybody know about my secret. I was afraid of the cruel aunt. I was worried that the shameless children would mock at me for becoming pregnant at just 14 years of age. And I was depressed myself. Martha came one day, and I felt like telling her about it, but I kept quiet. I only told her that I wanted to go away from that place, as it was killing me inside. Martha went into a deep thought, and told me to wait for her answer for some days. Ah! Those days were so stressful when I waited for Martha’s answer. Will Martha come and take me away, or will she never come back to see me again? On one fine morning, I heard a crow crowing over my roof. That meant somebody was coming that day. Martha came in the evening. She took me on the side of the house, and gave me the good news that she was going to arrange for me to go into service in London. Oh! How happy I was, and shocked too. I was happy because that meant I was going to escape from that detestable place, and I was shocked at what a turn my life was going to take. I begged Martha not to tell my cruel aunt anything about it. Martha settled down all the matters, and prepared all documents and papers that were needed for me to sail to England. Bye, bye, Dublin! Bye, bye Ireland! It was all I could hear in my dreams and in reality. On the night when Martha gave me the green signal, I packed my stuff, and left that haunted house in which the witch aunt and her evil kids resided. Martha took me to the people who were taking me away. They took my papers, and gave me the tickets. I could see that big ship at the harbor. Martha was with me. I was crying. I hugged her tightly, and tears rolled down my eyes. She told me to take care, and kissed me goodbye. I boarded the ship, waiving at her. And there was I, with my dirty little secret right within my heart. Today, I am sailing to England. I am going to join the service in London. I am going to start a new life- a life which I know nothing about. I do not know what kind of people I am going to meet, where I am going to stay, and how I am going to make my living. But, after all I am a bitch, as those cruel kids called me. I am a bitch! And I know that I am strong. Let’s see what happens. Read More
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