Jane Eyre
My name is Jane Eyre. My parents were both dead when I was still a baby
and then I was taken by my uncle, my mother's brother, to his home.
My uncle, Mr. Reed, loved me very much, but unfortunately, he died only
several years later, when I was about 2 years old. After that, I had to live
with Mrs. Reed, a very cruel woman, the wife of my uncle and her three
children, Eliza, John and Georgiana Reed.
All the time I knew I was different from these three children, my cousins.
They were taller and stronger than me, and they were loved.
These three usually spent their time crying and quarrelling, but today
they were sitting quietly around their mother in the sitting-room.
I wanted to join the family circle, but Mrs Reed, my aunt, refused me.
I crept out of the sitting-room and into the small room next door,
where I chose a book full of pictures from the bookcase.
I climbed on to the window-seat and drew the curtains,
so that I was completely hidden. I sat there for a while.
I forgot my sad, lonely life for a while.
But suddenly the door of the room opened. John Reed,
the oldest boy of my aunt, rushed in. 'Where are you, rat?' he shouted.
'What do you want?' I asked him. 'Say,' What do you want, Master Reed',
' he answered, sitting in an armchair.
'I want you to come here. ' John Reed was fourteen and I was only ten.
He was large and rather fat. My whole body trembled when he came near.
Sometimes he hit me, sometimes he just threatened me,
and I lived in terrible fear of him.
I had no idea about how to stop him.
So I obeyed John's order and approached his armchair,
thinking how very ugly his face was.
Perhaps he understood what I was thinking,
for he hit me hard on the face.
'What were you doing? ' he asked.
'I was reading, ' I answered.
'Show me the book.
' I gave it to him. 'You have no right to take our books, ' he continued.
'You have no money and your father left your none.
You ought to beg in the streets.
Anyway, all these books are mine, and so is the whole house, or will
be in a few years' time. I'll teach you not to borrow my books again. '
He lifted the heavy book and threw it hard at me.
It hit me and I fell, cutting my head on the door.
I was in great pain, and suddenly for the first time in my life,
I forgot my fear of John Reed. 'You wicked, cruel boy! 'Icried.
'You are a bully! You are as bad as a murderer!
I felt the blood running down my face, and the pain gave me strength.
I fought back as hard as I could, and he shouted for help.
His sisters and Mrs Reed ran to pull us apart and I heard them say,
'What a wicked girl! She attacked Master John! '
Mrs Reed, my unnt, said calmly,
'Take her away to the red room and lock her in there.
' And so I was carried upstairs.
The servants left the room, locking the door carefully behind them.
The red room was a cold, silent room. Nine years ago, my uncle,
Mr Reed, had died in this room,
and since then nobody had wanted to sleep in it.
Now that I was alone I thought of the people I lived with.
John Reed, his sisters, his mother, the servants, they all hated me.
Why could I never please them?
And so I spent that whole long afternoon in the red room asking
myself why I had to suffer and why life was so unfair.
Perhaps I would run away, or starve myself to death.
Gradually it became dark outside. The rain was still beating on
the windows, and I could hear the wind in the trees.
I looked round at the dark furniture and the walls in
shadow, I began to fear that my uncle's ghost might come back.
I was so frightened.
Suddenly in the darkness I saw a light moving on the ceiling.
I felt sure it must be a ghost, a visitor from another world.
My head was hot, my heart beat fast.
Screaming wildly, I rushed to the door and shook it.
"Let me out!" Miss Bessie came running to open it.
'Miss Eyre, are you ill? ' asked Bessie. 'Take me out of here! ' I screamed.
'Why? What's the matter?' she asked. 'I saw a light, and I
thought it was a ghost, ' I cried, holding tightly on to Bessie's hand.
'What is all this?
demanded an angry voice. Mrs Reed appeared at the door of the room. '
'She screamed so loudly, ma'am, ' said Bessie softly.
'Let go off her hands, Bessie, was Mrs Reed's only answer.
'Jane Eyre, you need not think you can succeed in getting out of the room like this.
'Oh aunt, please forgive me! I can't bear it! I shall die if you keep me here… '
I screamed and kicked as she held me.
'Silence! Control yourself! '
She pushed me, back into the red room and locked me in.
I must have fainted. I cannot remember anything more.
and then I was taken by my uncle, my mother's brother, to his home.
My uncle, Mr. Reed, loved me very much, but unfortunately, he died only
several years later, when I was about 2 years old. After that, I had to live
with Mrs. Reed, a very cruel woman, the wife of my uncle and her three
children, Eliza, John and Georgiana Reed.
All the time I knew I was different from these three children, my cousins.
They were taller and stronger than me, and they were loved.
These three usually spent their time crying and quarrelling, but today
they were sitting quietly around their mother in the sitting-room.
I wanted to join the family circle, but Mrs Reed, my aunt, refused me.
I crept out of the sitting-room and into the small room next door,
where I chose a book full of pictures from the bookcase.
I climbed on to the window-seat and drew the curtains,
so that I was completely hidden. I sat there for a while.
I forgot my sad, lonely life for a while.
But suddenly the door of the room opened. John Reed,
the oldest boy of my aunt, rushed in. 'Where are you, rat?' he shouted.
'What do you want?' I asked him. 'Say,' What do you want, Master Reed',
' he answered, sitting in an armchair.
'I want you to come here. ' John Reed was fourteen and I was only ten.
He was large and rather fat. My whole body trembled when he came near.
Sometimes he hit me, sometimes he just threatened me,
and I lived in terrible fear of him.
I had no idea about how to stop him.
So I obeyed John's order and approached his armchair,
thinking how very ugly his face was.
Perhaps he understood what I was thinking,
for he hit me hard on the face.
'What were you doing? ' he asked.
'I was reading, ' I answered.
'Show me the book.
' I gave it to him. 'You have no right to take our books, ' he continued.
'You have no money and your father left your none.
You ought to beg in the streets.
Anyway, all these books are mine, and so is the whole house, or will
be in a few years' time. I'll teach you not to borrow my books again. '
He lifted the heavy book and threw it hard at me.
It hit me and I fell, cutting my head on the door.
I was in great pain, and suddenly for the first time in my life,
I forgot my fear of John Reed. 'You wicked, cruel boy! 'Icried.
'You are a bully! You are as bad as a murderer!
I felt the blood running down my face, and the pain gave me strength.
I fought back as hard as I could, and he shouted for help.
His sisters and Mrs Reed ran to pull us apart and I heard them say,
'What a wicked girl! She attacked Master John! '
Mrs Reed, my unnt, said calmly,
'Take her away to the red room and lock her in there.
' And so I was carried upstairs.
The servants left the room, locking the door carefully behind them.
The red room was a cold, silent room. Nine years ago, my uncle,
Mr Reed, had died in this room,
and since then nobody had wanted to sleep in it.
Now that I was alone I thought of the people I lived with.
John Reed, his sisters, his mother, the servants, they all hated me.
Why could I never please them?
And so I spent that whole long afternoon in the red room asking
myself why I had to suffer and why life was so unfair.
Perhaps I would run away, or starve myself to death.
Gradually it became dark outside. The rain was still beating on
the windows, and I could hear the wind in the trees.
I looked round at the dark furniture and the walls in
shadow, I began to fear that my uncle's ghost might come back.
I was so frightened.
Suddenly in the darkness I saw a light moving on the ceiling.
I felt sure it must be a ghost, a visitor from another world.
My head was hot, my heart beat fast.
Screaming wildly, I rushed to the door and shook it.
"Let me out!" Miss Bessie came running to open it.
'Miss Eyre, are you ill? ' asked Bessie. 'Take me out of here! ' I screamed.
'Why? What's the matter?' she asked. 'I saw a light, and I
thought it was a ghost, ' I cried, holding tightly on to Bessie's hand.
'What is all this?
demanded an angry voice. Mrs Reed appeared at the door of the room. '
'She screamed so loudly, ma'am, ' said Bessie softly.
'Let go off her hands, Bessie, was Mrs Reed's only answer.
'Jane Eyre, you need not think you can succeed in getting out of the room like this.
'Oh aunt, please forgive me! I can't bear it! I shall die if you keep me here… '
I screamed and kicked as she held me.
'Silence! Control yourself! '
She pushed me, back into the red room and locked me in.
I must have fainted. I cannot remember anything more.
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