Jane Eyre-"Noise"
As promised, some Jane Eyre. It's been a while since I read it, so forgive any minor timeline discrepancies.
Noise
A shriek of maniacal laughter woke him from an already painful dream. He jolted and sat up in bed. After a long moment of silence, he let out the breath he had been holding. It did not seem that the laughter would continue. Still, the sound and his dream had jarred him, and he doubted sleep would return.
His slippers were always beside his bed when he slept, and his dressing gown always draped over the foot of his bed. It was not uncommon for him to don them and prowl the halls. It was another of his many eccentricities which the servant observed and tried to ignore on the rare occasions their master was home. Tonight would be only one of many when he gave in to his restless thoughts.
He lit a candle and carried it with him into the hall. The flickering light cast bizarre shadows, at some points making it appear that the walls were alive. He paid it no mind thought He never did.
His dream had troubled him more than he wanted to admit to anyone, including himself. He could not quite say why; perhaps it was because it had been so real, almost more memory than dream.
He had felt her pressing against him, the way she arched her back when he kissed that one spot on her neck. He had head her voice whispering in his ear as she pulled him onto the bed, and the rustling of silks as her dress was carelessly tossed aside. He had been stuck fresh with the pain of seeing her kiss another man, and realizing that she had made love to him, but never loved him at all.
He came to the end of the hall where a mirror hung and he stopped. He stared at his reflection, watching the flickering lights and shadows make it even more grotesque than it was in daylight. He spoke aloud to his reflection.
“Edward Fairfax Rochester, you are a fool,” he said to the man in the mirror. He felt the more foolish having actually spoken aloud, but he continued. “You are mad, you know. Nothing has ever gone the way you expected it too before; why the devil should it have with her? Forget her and go on with your miserable life glad that she’s not part of it.”
Another shriek of laughter tore through the house from somewhere above, but this time it was followed by a frightened cry which dissolved to sobbing. Rochester waited. The sobbing continued, coming from a door behind him. Finally he turned and went to that room, muttering curses under his breath for having given the nurse two day’s leave.
He pushed open the door and crossed the room to the smaller of the two beds there. He set the candle down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he said, trying to keep his voice from betraying its usual gruffness.
The four year old peeked out from beneath the covers. “Un éclat de rire,” she said, peering at him with her dark eyes. He sighed and tucked the coverlet around her. Her dark curly hair was the same as her mother’s. He gently smoothed it and wiped tears from her cheeks.
“Go back to sleep, Adèle,” he said. “It was just a noise, it won’t hurt you.”
It was true, he thought as he sat and waited for the little girl to sleep again, noise didn’t hurt you. People did.
Noise
A shriek of maniacal laughter woke him from an already painful dream. He jolted and sat up in bed. After a long moment of silence, he let out the breath he had been holding. It did not seem that the laughter would continue. Still, the sound and his dream had jarred him, and he doubted sleep would return.
His slippers were always beside his bed when he slept, and his dressing gown always draped over the foot of his bed. It was not uncommon for him to don them and prowl the halls. It was another of his many eccentricities which the servant observed and tried to ignore on the rare occasions their master was home. Tonight would be only one of many when he gave in to his restless thoughts.
He lit a candle and carried it with him into the hall. The flickering light cast bizarre shadows, at some points making it appear that the walls were alive. He paid it no mind thought He never did.
His dream had troubled him more than he wanted to admit to anyone, including himself. He could not quite say why; perhaps it was because it had been so real, almost more memory than dream.
He had felt her pressing against him, the way she arched her back when he kissed that one spot on her neck. He had head her voice whispering in his ear as she pulled him onto the bed, and the rustling of silks as her dress was carelessly tossed aside. He had been stuck fresh with the pain of seeing her kiss another man, and realizing that she had made love to him, but never loved him at all.
He came to the end of the hall where a mirror hung and he stopped. He stared at his reflection, watching the flickering lights and shadows make it even more grotesque than it was in daylight. He spoke aloud to his reflection.
“Edward Fairfax Rochester, you are a fool,” he said to the man in the mirror. He felt the more foolish having actually spoken aloud, but he continued. “You are mad, you know. Nothing has ever gone the way you expected it too before; why the devil should it have with her? Forget her and go on with your miserable life glad that she’s not part of it.”
Another shriek of laughter tore through the house from somewhere above, but this time it was followed by a frightened cry which dissolved to sobbing. Rochester waited. The sobbing continued, coming from a door behind him. Finally he turned and went to that room, muttering curses under his breath for having given the nurse two day’s leave.
He pushed open the door and crossed the room to the smaller of the two beds there. He set the candle down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he said, trying to keep his voice from betraying its usual gruffness.
The four year old peeked out from beneath the covers. “Un éclat de rire,” she said, peering at him with her dark eyes. He sighed and tucked the coverlet around her. Her dark curly hair was the same as her mother’s. He gently smoothed it and wiped tears from her cheeks.
“Go back to sleep, Adèle,” he said. “It was just a noise, it won’t hurt you.”
It was true, he thought as he sat and waited for the little girl to sleep again, noise didn’t hurt you. People did.