I woke up as usual for a dream of Jane, my beloved; I knew that it was dream the instant I woke up. It was morning on a bright sunny day in the middle of June yet to me the world was black, in my dream I could see her. The other tell tale sign was the pearl necklace around my neck, I had vowed never to take it off until she came back to me; I expected I would die in that necklace.
I lay in my bed feeling useless; I knew that it wouldn't be long until John came in to help me dress. I know that it's the kind of work given to a maid not a man servant but I knew John wouldn't be repulsed by the scars on my body. I didn't want his wife Mary looking at my broken mutilated arm, the red ugly scars that ran long and wide across my chest, I wouldn't be able to see her face but I could imagine the horror, disgust and pity etched deep into it. My fists shook as I saw that look on her face in my mind, what woman would want me? Mary's face morphed into Jane's and I cried out in despair, not a moment went by when I didn't think about her. The angel I had lost, the lamb I had murdered in a rash act, even if she came back why would she want the shadow of a man I had become?
Once dressed I tried as best I could to get down to breakfast in a dignified manner, I cursed myself as stumbled when I tried to descend the stairs unaided. It wasn't the injuries I cursed, in Jane's absence I had resolved to turn to God and be a better person, more worthy of the one I had lost. Because of this I learned to accept my blindness and repulsive appearance as just punishment for trying to take one of God's greatest creations and devout followers from him and from his laws. It was myself I abhorred, the broken creature I had become was a result of firstly being a weak and pitiful young man when I fell for that monsters charms, secondly as a result I hated myself for hurting the one I loved best, I hurt her more than I want to think about if it was even half of what I felt and still feel she will be in unspeakable agony.
If I hadn't done those things I wouldn't be living for the sake existence, for the vain hope that one day my darling bird will fly home to find the creature she called my wife is dead and there is room in my arms for her. That is if she doesn't take one look at me and run; if she can ever trust me again.
In one way and one way alone my disfigurements are a blessing not a curse, I am no longer able to conduct any business, I cannot see and therefore cannot pass judgement on the state of repair of any part of my vast cursed estate. This leaves me free to sit alone in the dark that exists only in my eyes and remember, before she came to me that was an occupation I avoided vehemently for then my memories were bitter painful things.
Now I can remember her, everything about her, the look she got on her face when she was thirsting for a piece of knowledge, the day she defiantly claimed to be my equal and a free human being. I remember the day I returned home after a night away to find her waiting anxiously, how my heart warmed just to see her and her demonstration of love; my heart nearly stopped when she told me of how the beast had entered her chamber and torn that ridiculous veil I had insisted on buying her. From the smile on her face after I kissed her, to the defiant look on her face when I tried to spoil her, the look of love in her eye, to the mischievous glint when she teased and vexed me.
This too has its downsides; when I come out of my reverie smiling I remember that she is gone and I will never see her again. That day was a source of particular pain for it was not the pain of the present that plagued me; it was that of the past. I had breakfasted and resolved to spend the rest of my morning in my mind; living through every sweet moment; it was like a play I never tired of seeing or a book I never tired of reading. But that day my own memory turned on me; I saw the look on her face when Mason and that clerk Briggs told her the terrible truth of my past. I remembered the hours of desperate agony as I sat outside her door waiting to hear some cry of pain any sign that she felt what I felt, any sign that she was alive in that room that she barred me from. I saw her refuse my offers of bliss in the Mediterranean; I read in her eye the conflicting emotion as her heart told her to stay as she could see me getting desperate but her head telling her to leave me for her own sanity and for God.
Frustrated I pulled myself back into the bitter present that was empty of anything but pain and hate; true love lay there but it a love that made me feel as if I was missing the best part of myself. Without Jane I was a savage man; why did I need to be civilised when the only one I cared about was not here? She was probably far away either missing me as much as I miss her or dead. Was it really a year since I had proposed to her on the stormy midsummer's evening? How trivial all my worries were back then. Was it less than two years ago that I came raging through the mist like a positive villain, not giving a damn about anyone except myself and the misery I felt at having failed yet again to find that allusive form? How was I to know she was around the next bend, when that witch made Mesrour slip I cursed her but something about her kept her in my mind. I was relieved to discover that she belonged to my house hold, if I had tried to make her stay she may have run away terrified that my interest in her was dishonest. Well I guess it was. Was it only a few months since I had lost my sight? Those months seemed to have yawned into an eternity of grief.
Days and nights bled into one never ceasing dark existence, the only thing that ruled my life was the natural needs for food, water and sleep. I do not know how long I sat in that chair living through my past mistakes; but eventually my legs grew tired of my idleness and ached for a walk so I called for John. "John! Where the deuce is my stick? I wish to go outside." He and his wife Mary had got used to my manners, which had been tamed for a brief period while my fairy inhabited Thornfeild, now she was gone and the hall was burned to the ground my rudeness had returned with a vengeance.
I stood outside walking briefly round the flower beds; I heard the birds call and wished one of them could tell me where my Jane had gone. They must know of their own kind, I was in half a mind to try my best to entice the sprites and fairies out of their hiding places and ask for news of their queen. She had once told me that all the little green men abandoned England long ago, if that was the case what had brought her to my door. I heard a twig snap, the sound of human footfall; blindness makes all the other sense sharp. Once more I cursed my eyes and called out to the new comer in vain. There was no reply. For a minute I had hoped she had come back to me, alas it was not so. I grew cold for despite the fact that it was all warmth and sunshine, it did not touch this deep down into the forest just like the suns rays could not warm my cold, empty heart.
Once more I returned to that chair and sat in silence, there was some sort of commotion in the kitchen and Mary came to ask if I would receive a visitor. It was a long time since I had had company; I only wanted one person and it would not be in this world that I would see her again. I refused, why the devil would anyone want to see me in this state? I was a wreck of a man in more ways than one.
A short while later I called Mary, I was angry at something like I so often was those days, I believe I wanted candles. Soon she came in with a tray yet there was something different in her tread; it was slow but light and very quiet; Pilot went berserk. I was angry again, what was she waiting for? I was thirsty yet from the sound of it the glass would be nearly empty by the time she got to me, Pilot was no help as it seemed he was accosting her. In a firm voice she told Pilot to get down, that wasn't Mary's voice I knew to whom it belonged to but I didn't dare dream. I demanded to know where Mary was; the reply confirmed my suspicions straight away and my previously cold heart leapt into my mouth fully alive and beating like a wild thing. The reply was cheeky and even through the voice I would tell the exact expression she would have on her face. I began to talk desperately, reaching out with my hands searching for proof of the slight form that according to my ears should be standing right in front of me. "Great God!-- What delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has seized me?" I called.
"No delusion – no madness: your mind, sir, is too strong for delusion, your health to sound for frenzy." Was the sweet reply.
"And where is the speaker? Is it only a voice? Oh! I cannot see, but I must feel, or my heart will stop and my brain burst. Whatever – whoever you are – be perceptible to the touch or I cannot live!" I cried wildly and then finally my hand grasped hers and I knew that she was standing in front of me, my darling, my beautiful, my elfish Jane had returned to me. If her fingers where there so was the rest of her, I pulled her closer and found her whole being in front of me yet I could not quite believe what my sense were telling me. I was talking almost to myself asking if this could truly be real, ever the rationalist my Jane calmly stated that she was indeed home. She entreated me to touch her and find that she was indeed real. Still I refused to believe it was anything but a dream. Like the ones that so haunted me at night and tortured me in the day, a small matter of money confirmed to me that I was not dreaming yet the fact that she was independent stung and I immediately began to doubt.
Had she just come to see if I was still alive, now she had money and friends why would she need me? How long until she left; I had been given everything I had wanted for only a few moments yet something told me that it was to be torn away from me once again. I begged her not to leave and she told me that she never had any intention of doing so. Nothing can describe the relief and euphoria I felt at once again having her close to my side. I worried that my appearance was enough to scare her off but like always she replied in a teasing way, she liked to hide what she really felt, she was blunt but not painfully so. We sat for many hours just talking but she had been travelling for many days and wished to retire, the months of solitude had worn me down and I began to worry again. She tells me now that she did it to keep me from my misery but like the imp she was she left me tossing and turning by not answering a question I posed her. All I got was a goodnight and a slight laugh when I was anxious to know if she had spent the past year in the company of ladies,but not knowing was agony.
When I woke the next morning as usual the harsh reality hit me, last nights dream had seemed so real, I dreamt more details than I could possibly have imagined. I sat up in bed nearly weeping with bitter disappointment when I noticed something different, where was the familiar, warm weight that usually hung about my neck. Frantically I ran my hands along my bedside table causing many things to clatter to the floor but I did not care. Finally my hand clutched what I was looking for, a string of pearls lay in my hand, ice cold from the night spent lying on the wood. A slow, wide smile spread across my face as I realised that for once it hadn't been a dream.
