Miranda E. Wheeler

Period 2 - APL-LA

- Rewriting

Page 58-59, Wuthering Heights


"A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad, if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly."

Nelly's face beamed. Knowing her so considerably accursed my brain into submitting to an old conformity. I was comprehending her words from her eyes, rather than hearing what proceeded from her promptly-quivering lips. A grin was tempting her mouth as she detonated into lecture. Inspiration was thriving, and I realized that she was attempting to be of an utmost assistance. I had just confessed and confronted my entire night's woe. In response, she had perceptibly been self-obliged to seize the invitation.

Ha! As if she even contemplated such thoughts. While she had always been more thoughtful in mind than the other 'servants' (I refused to admit that I had been officially lowered to such froth). She harbored guilt, and feeling. Something the others appeared in lack of. I, however, was not as deceived. Could I be interpreted as such a fool? She had begun to regarded me as rubbish as had the rest of them.

"-And now that we've done washing, and combing, and sulking - tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome? I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for prince in disguise. Who knows, but your father is the emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of the able to buy up, with one week's income, Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange together? And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors, and brought to England. Where I, in your place, would frame high notions of my birth, and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!"

My thoughts instigated and unraveled, my face lost it's disheartened, miserable indents and expressions, finally loosening. Her imagination reminded me of games my dear Cathy and I had exploited. In fact, if our games had not gone into such frivolous carelessness and lewd behaviors , she would not have been so incarcerated at the Grange. We both ought to be scuttling around Wuthering Heights dirty and boundless. Free from the pestilence of the Linton's… and the tyrant cretin that held me to the disgusting bondage of condemnation while aiming daggers at the bright-red targets of my suffering.

The thoughts of entertainment of Nelly's ridiculously amusing imagination reminded me, admittedly of my own personal worth. Hindley had been grating at it for much a time, but I had always been the clever one. Manipulative maybe, more personally: intelligent in the art of trickery, if you will. Cathy - she still admired my worth. The look and search of her eyes, and the physical praises bestowed upon my revealing at her arrival proved it. Overlook Edgar, and his features that may draw her. I had her first, and by God, she shall be mine.

My mind danced in wonder, and Nelly went ceaselessly in hypothetical, metaphorical, praise. As I pursued my newfound philosophies, thinking and listening to reflections of conversed, a sudden barrier snatched my attention. Muffled, echoing sound sputtered from the outside, likely from the road. Soon, protruding the courtyard. My teeth abruptly began to grit, in inquisitiveness as well as other buried and obscured feelings. My feet leapt from under me as I dashed to the windowpane. I removed my thoughts from the actions of Nelly, and my eyes tirelessly searched the road.

Completely clothed in the fanciest of wear, cloaks and skins and furs, Edgar and Isabella Linton were scooped up from their carriage (in which I rather clandestinely craved they be violently and sadistically shoved back into) and lightly dropped to the ground. The Earnshaws were gracefully removed from their ridings - horses - and joined with the children briefly before Cathy leapt out and dragged them inside for God knows why. Yet, despite the shocking contrasts, I found myself not minding. I was virtually giddy, absolutely scatterbrained, in inflated pride.

"Hasten, now! When you wish it you are of most amiable humor, prove your intents and behavior." Her intentions seemed of right passage and I quickly conformed to the idea and rushed to do so, with she in tow. I paced to the door, and thrust it open and eagerly burst into the room. I ran into the dictating fool himself, Hindley, head-first, he entering from a door opposite of the one I had just come. His face, for all I knew: burnt by the hell-fires, colored into pure cherry-apple-redness. His arms shot out and blasted me back through the door of my entrance.

His heated-voice bellowed, demanding Joseph into presence. In excuse as clear as water, he began to lie-up a character I'd not bother, nor dare, attempt. "Keep the fellow out of the room - send him into the garret till dinner is long over. He will be cramming his fingers in tarts, and stealing the fruit, if left alone with them a minute."

My chest raised in anger, and my fingers curled and cramped into my hand creating a fist of hatred and despise. I barely was able to bite my tongue to contain response when Nelly jumped into the issue.

"Nay, sir. He'll touch nothing, not-he, and I suppose he must have had his share of dainties as well as we." she asserted in defense.

"He'll have his share of my hand if I catch him down stairs again till dark! Begone, you vagabond! What, you are attempting the coxcomb, are you? Wait till I get a hold of those elegant locks - see if I won't pull them a bit longer!" He threatened, insulted and spat. It was snapped on again - war, abhorrence, and demonic-insanities. I could not wish anything other than a most horrid revenge on the man, as in relevance to Joseph's blaspheming predictions, Hindley might as well have been one of the devil's spawns he so frightfully insisted upon rambling on about.

"They are long enough already! I wonder they don't make his head ache. It's like a colt's mane over his eyes!" Edgar exploded upon entry.

My emotions ran undomesticated. I was utterly disgusted with the scene I was living in. First, to abused by a man more pathetic than a servant's equal. Second, to have to have been defended by Nelly rather than myself. To be ludicrously insulted, idiotically mocked, unreasonably judged, and unjustly fooled. Knowing that this atrocious creature had power over me. Having a repulsively pitiable version of 'a person' try and put disgrace in my name! In nonchalance! A person who has had a life served on a dirty, gilded platter! Who tried to imprison my Catherine! Who accompanies a whole family attempting and threatening, more and more each second, to steal her from me forever! I was exceedingly enraged, reasonably embarrassed and discomfited, nauseatingly hurt, and utterly appalled. My face colored and my entire body warmed, and the air was knocked from my lungs, stolen by angry winds.

My hand struck out and grasped for anything I could wrap my fingers around. I took hold of a serving dish and smashed it against the source of his words. Hot applesauce exploded all over his face and neck, bringing about an agitated, painful scream and a immense amount of hot, red, burning skin. The girls rushed in to the source of the sound and shrieked. His sister -Isabella- began to drone and bawl.

I attempted to conclude my anger into a mental bottle, but my words were gone. While I was revolted and fuming, I could not speak or think. I was shocked at what I had done - but not regretful. Nelly angrily seized him and began to pat the substances off his skin with a dirty rag, rather unhappy about doing so. Earnshaw grabbed me and began dragging me away from the blurring scene. Cathy began screaming and scolding Edgar, demanding more than he would honestly admit. As I was pulled away, I could dully hear her upset yells. "You should not have spoken to him! He was in bad temper, now you've spoilt your visit! He'll be flogged! I hate him to be flogged! I can't eat my dinner! Why did you speak to him Edgar?"

I didn't hear much more than his whiney, pathetic voice as I was forcedly relocated to my chamber. The rough, angry handle of my captor took into account his opinion on the matter- which I personally could not care about if it depended on a fasting and a flogging. He tossed me onto the cold ground and left for the feast. I laid, staring at the ceiling in weary thought, occasionally rubbing my arm over the bumps of skin of which were results of pinches from Mr. Earnshaw's hushed aggression.

I thought of Cathy as I heard a dull echo of wordless chatter, and not heard her voice included. I recollected of how she had kissed and praised me when she saw me after the five weeks of her absence, and how she declared anger, to her newfound company for me, and her affection of a mutual-soul. I suddenly jumped up from the ground to enclose the garret, removing the sound of their devil's psalmody. When I replaced myself on the chilly floor, I mentally ranted about the two beasts of my torture, hated the actions of the day, and composed myself enough to bring peace. I wished for her return and entrance, and I mourned the small battles I was losing to the Linton's. I rested my eyes and covered my face, letting my body feel the cold and the sadness, but prohibiting my frustrations.

I heard a small clicking of shoes, and a knocking that startled my rest.

"Heathcliff!" Catherine called.