|Erin O'Brady's Daring Escape (standard:adventure, 1290 words)|
|Author: Ak||Added: Aug 04 2003||Views/Reads: 1997/1065||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Erin O'Brady longs to escape from the grasps of Madame Matilda. But first she must retrieve her Mother's precious diary.|
Erin's O'Brady's Daring Escape By Kira Pirofski B.A., M.A. “Will you be wanting anything else my lady?” plied Erin with a thick Irish brogue. “Else, I shall be going to my own quarters.” She held her head high as she said the later; her sharp chin jutted slightly forward, so that her straight red hair fell just to her shoulders. She hoped the wizened gray haired woman lying prone in the canopied bed would answer in her usual brusque manner, “Yes, yes Erin, away with you,” and dismiss her immediately. Erin could then retire to her own sparse room, located in the basement of the vast castle. There, among her books and drawings, she could begin packing her belongings and prepare for her escape from this drafty, stone mansion. “Not just yet, girl, I want you to read to me a bit while I have my soup. Bring me my copy of the Shakespeare, and start reading.” Madame Matilda replied harshly. This untimely, although typical command, meant Erin would have to revise her plan of escape. “But, it will give me a chance to search Dame Matilda's room before I leave,” she thought brightly. Searching the room and finding her mother's diary was her goal, she had to find it, and take it with her on her journey to America. Leaving without taking it back would like leaving her mother, and all her dreams behind. Leaving without it would be like letting her mother's dreams die, just like her mother had 3 years ago. Shauna O'Brady, her lively dark haired mother had died of a rare disease when Erin was 10. Before she died, she did two things. She secured Erin a job as personal maid to this ancient French noble woman, Madame Matilda, and she left Erin the sole possessor f her most precious possession; her diary. From the age of 13, seamstress Shauna O'Brady had filled her gold covered diary with poems, pictures, songs, and dress designs she had fashioned. She had hoped to open her own dress shop in Paris, where she and Erin had emigrated from Ireland, and support her red haired, fiery daughter. Instead, while her ideas were innovative, and her spirit strong, her body was weak. She had contracted a rare illness that gradually left her paralyzed, and eventually robbed her of all movement and sensation. On the eve of her 35th birthday, she died. Erin scarcely had time to mourn her mother's passing. Before she knew it, she had gone from the small cottage in the outskirts of Paris, to live in the gray, stone mansion owned by Madame Matilda. She had enough time but, to take the diary, and her own collection of books and art supplies her mother had bought for her. The day she arrived at the door of 312 Tempe Rue, Madame Matilda had the head butler confiscate all of Erin's bags and inspect them. Mademoiselle Theresa, a sweet faced girl of 15 handed the diary and rest of Erin's booty over to the ailing Madame. Erin remembered how Madame's face had lit up as she thumbed through the fading pages of beautiful portraits Shauna had painted. Madame had held her plump hand over her wrinkled mouth when she saw the lovely ball gowns Shauna had illustrated. The rotund old Madame had wept when she read the poems, and sand the words of the songs Shauna had written in a high pitched, French trill. Then, to Erin's horror, Madame had kept the diary. She had locked it in a safe located in her room, and Erin had never seen it or her mother again. At first, she pined for the diary; she had gone to Madame and pleaded for its return. “But, I am an old lady; it brings me great joy to read it. It is mine now,” was the selfish, curt reply. Click here to read the rest of this story (82 more lines)
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