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Du er her: Skole > Great pain, No Scream!

Great pain, No Scream!

Trist historie om Mona.

Karakter: 6- (10. klasse)

Sjanger
Novelle
Språkform
Engelsk
Lastet opp
25.04.2005


-Mona! Mona! Mona! I’m ready for my cup of tea! Mr. Whistler was strolling around his manor, furiously, screaming and shouting for his maid. Where about could that useless girl be? He walked out to the creepy stable boy, while thinking about a suitable way to punish her horrible behavior. It was most unlike her, doing things like these. She used to be so polite, and always on time. Always there to satisfy his needs! Mr. Whistler thought gloomily about how dull his life would be without her.

-Find Mona, Jacob. Mr. Whistler said calmly to the frightened stable boy. He had already tasted his master furious out breaks, and knew when not to argue. His bare foots carried him trough the filthy stable, into the smelly cowshed where he found her, wiping her eyes out in a corner of the cold concrete floor. Quietly, her hands crossed her waist. Over the last couple of weeks, her pure white dress had tightened up. Strong emotion appeared in Jacob’s stomach, and found there way up to his heart. The sweet, innocent girl he used to share smiles and laughter with, a girl he deeply admire and secretly loved was now lying on the floor, mooning in grief. It broke his heart to see her like this, but he knew he had to pass the message. Both of his knees collapsed, he fell down on side of her, holding her thigh, trying to comfort all her sorrows. His heart knew no one could.

-Mona, dear. Mr. Whistler is ready for tea. Jacob informed her. The sobbing came to an end as the tears stopped running. She knew that Jacob cared for her, right now that was the only thing keeping her alive, and resisting the temptation of fading away. Their eyes met, and shared each other’s grief and pain.

 

The rings under her red sore eyes were the only things, which could tell that she had been crying. Her fingers were combing trough her pitch-black hair, trying to tidy it up. Her master would be morbidly dangerous when she returned, hurting her would only be a part of the punishment she could expect. As she entered the kitchen, she moved gently over to oven. Taking a deep breath while she was prepared the tea. A hope gathered inside her, maybe the tea would calm down his temper. Though, knowing that her rebellious behavior deserved punishment, she was expecting the worst. Suddenly the water started boiling. She ran towards the oven and brought the saucepan away from the heat. Blisters appeared in her hands, she had forgotten to wear cup holders. You could read the pain in her face, but you heard no scream. The tea was ready. She entered the living room.

 

Mr. Whistler glared at her. His rage seemed to fill the whole room, as he raised and regained his monstrous size. Mona was scared stiff. Hardly daring to look she said.

- Your tea, Mr. Whistler. There was a great trace of fright in her voice.

- I do not want my tea any more. His voice rose together with his anger. He got closer to her. A hand flew trough the air and hit Mona in the middle of her face. The tea spluttered all over them, like the cup was pitting over Mona. Her face was twisted in a dreadful look of fear and disgust. Mr. Whistler grabbed her hand, showing her the way up to his bedroom. As they walked you could almost smell her pain, though, you heard no scream.

 

Dirt was covering Jacob’s clothes from bottom to top. He was resting quietly in the stable. His mind fluttered around Mona’s punishment. Suddenly he heard someone’s little feet tiptoed outside. Mona entered, with tears in her eyes. Her face had been beaten and scratched. Blood droping from her nose. He held his arms around her and allowing her to cry on his strong shoulder. He felt like she was doomed to a horrible life if they stayed.

- Mona, did he do this to you? Jacob asked, though the answer was obvious. Mona just kept on crying mortified, like she would never stop. Her white dress was dirty, and parts of it had gained the red color of her blood. Jacob was there, all the time, trying to comfort her, when she suddenly said.

- We can escape, lets go tonight. Just the two of us. We can make it on our own. I can’t stay. He will kill me.

- Are you sure? Jacob asked with hope in his voice.

- Yes.

Mona went back into the castle, stole jewelry, clothes and food. As she walked to the back door she threw one last look on a picture he had painted, it was suppose to be her. He had not captured one of her emotions, cause the girl in the frame looked happy. Maybe this was a sign. She would end up happy with Jacob, but not here. As she walked out on the stairs she quietly whispered:

- Bye, bye misery! Let’s hope we never met again.

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