Sunday, May 19, 2019

“A Helping Hand” Story Essay

In the story, A Helping Hand I am creating a Gothic bilgewater which tears place in the mid-eighteenth century in London, England where the madman of this story takes his hostage, a young dancer by the name of Mary, who is an eighteenth century prostitute, who has something on happen, in which this Gothic creature, longs for. I int wipeout to create a desperate and scary situation, that will leave my reading audience paralyzed with fear alone uneffective to pull themselves away from this story. It will be a winning Gothic tale pass aways put downThe hallowing winds hurled Marys hair into air, as she crossed the rocky road that led her to her tiny cavity villa, on Fourth Street. She had danced easily for the gentlemen callers who had paid their dues, in order to watch her move across the infrastructure with incredible grace and little clothing. She had performed this dance ritual for several months, now, and she had saved up enough silver to pay her rent plus buy food, which was a rarity she had earlier missed.She searched her bag for the golden nonice that would allow her to enter, and she panicked when she disc everywhereed it wasnt in its proper place.The wind had picked up even more than than strength and she could barely hold her feet on the ground as she continued to look for the key.There was a humming in the distance, and she convinced herself that it was just another voice that the storm was offering, and as it grew louder and clearer, she froze where she stood.She could feel him rest behind her, just she couldnt allow herself to look. She could barely catch her breath and as she felt his hand rest on her shoulder, she closed her look and pretended she was back on the dance floor.He smelled of true cedar and whiskey and as he brushed his hand across the back of her neck, she spoke lyric poem that she had no idea where they emerged from. Can I help you? I was all she could say and she wondered if he had been a young-begetting(prenomin al) caller who had watched her dance, earlier.She could feel the sharp object protruding from his arm and when she was finally able to turn slightly she saw that he was equipped with the prosthetic hand that he had used to touch her. Had he any(prenominal) feelings in his hands? He must have, since she could feel the warmth that radiated from the object.She looked him in his face as he dangled the golden key forrader her. He had somehow managed to steal his way into her existence and now she had no other choice but to follow him inside the home that had earlier provided her a safe haven.He didnt speak but his eyes said all that she needed to know. He was there for nonpareil reason and she could feel his eyes piercing her soul as he placed the artificial hand to her chest.Mary, be kind Were the first words he spoke as she wiped a single take from her cheeks, and removed her sweater.No His voice was strong and he had not wanted this from her, but something much more personal. The re was no way she could give this to him, and as she thought or so it, she would have rather that he had been a crude pervert who only wanted her consistency, but he was asking for more than thatHer body tightened and she stood immobilized as he seemed to say thank you with his eyes and she suddenly wished that she hadnt moved away from her family. They had warned her about the dangers that existed in London, England and had advised her to reconsider her move so far away from those who cared about her. But, she had been strong-willed and their words of advice hadnt been able to convince her.He was growing impatient and she wished that his breathing could have been gentler and as she realize there was no way of escaping, she at last reached offered her hand to him.He had stroked it with affection. It was something that he had desired for so long and when he saw how urbanely they moved while she danced, he couldnt bare not to have one of them, as his own.He removed a long razor th at was attached to a wooden handle and he placed his arm around her arms and chest to secure them, so they wouldnt flop or flinch, as he removed the precious gift.The scream was shrilling and the timidity he saw in her eyes didnt faze him. He wanted it so mischievously that her pain, he felt, was a small price to pay for the happiness it would bring to him. It was a gift that would enable him to give back so much more than she could ever offer with the long fingered hand.It was afterwards midnight when she finally awoke. The medicine he had given her had caused her to sleep as he ceased the blood flow and sutured the wound that he had given her. It would have proven more beneficial if it had caused her to sleep through the blunt psychic trauma but that kind of pain could not be stopped by anything, including the strong tranquilizer he had shoved down her throat before the surgery. Her eyes fluttered and he seemed to move in a cloud over her, as she whispered that she needed wate r.He held the vial of fluid to her lips as she took the first sip and she searched his eyes once more, trying to remember the events of the night and as she saw her hand moving toward her face, she realized it was her own.My altruistic love, you have given to me of yourself. You have freely offered the gracefulness of your touch that I will forever feel against my flesh. I will carry this part of your body with me forever, and I will always be thankful to you He had seemed appreciative as she tried to lift her limb that was wrapped in blood-stained wrapping that was lifted above her head.She thought about her family as she wondered if she would ever see them again as she felt a knife thrust of blood pulsate through the bandage. She had never felt pain of this severity and as she tried to urge forward herself to a standing position, this stranger pulled her back to the bed and stroked her face with his feminine fingers.It was two days before she could gather the energy to walk to her small kitchen and when she did, she searched for him and in a whimpering voice she called out to him.There was no reply as she drank a full glass of the water that she had so thirsted for. She searched each dark mode and he was nowhere to be found.She let out a tiny sigh of relief as she walked toward the front door. She would find someone who could help her someone who could call a family member or take her to get some medical help.Her wrist felt like fire moving through the end and she held it tightly as she ran toward safety.The coldness of the day and the bitter rain exaggerated the pain she felt but she knew she couldnt delay. She had to find someone who could cause this horrible pain to go away.As she picked up speed, picture gallery in the direction of the ancient sedan chair, she comprehend him breathing but continued on her important journey.The saloon was full of familiar faces and as she walked across the floor she saw him gazing at her, once again.He held his g raceful hand across the table as she watched him and suddenly moved in his direction.Mary, you wont put anyone A gift is something you dont take back or fret over but something you offer in return for the comfort of knowing that you have helped another. Havent you ever heard that it is better to give than to receive?She was lost for words as she witness the boldness of his speech that flowed from his lips, so easily.Mary, I didnt ask you for an arm or leg just a gift for someone who was in need. All I asked for was a helping hand

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