Isabelle sighed, as she looked across the open field as her embroidery
teacher went on and on about the perfect stitch. She hated these boring
classes. Whenever she tried to tell her grandmother about how much she
couldn't stand these lessons her grandmother just turned her nose up and
reminded Isabella about how many young girls where not as well finished as
her; that they didn't even have the money to send their young daughters to
finishing school so they could not find a suitable husband to marry later
on in life. She said that this was exactly how it was when she was young.
"Isabella!" A loud and firm voice cut through her fog of thoughts like a knife slicing bread. "Isabella you need to pay attention! Were you even listening to what I was saying about the discontinuity stitch?"
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how interesting my lessons are," Isabella lied. "I am so grateful to be able to take these wonderful classes."
"Good." Annabelle, her stitchery teacher said. "You know that a husband looks at your embroidery to see if it is good enough."
"I know," Isabella sighed and then tried to pay more attention to her teacher.
Later that day, Isabella went into her grandmother's bedchambers. She looked around at the lovely embroidery that her grandmother had done around the bed sheet and thought back to her embroidery lesson. She did not understand why a man would care if she was good at embroidery and well accomplished in other stupid areas as well or not. She hated being treated as a piece of merchandise instead of a wonderful and active human being! She was a person! Why didn't the men who came to look at her, as a suitable wife didn't think that she had a brain! She spun around, startled at the sound of an opening door and there in the doorway stood her grandmother, holding her head high and looking like a queen.
"Let me guess," her grandmother started. " You do not like the new suitor that I has taken a great interest in you?"
"No I do not. Not only that but I also do not like the lessons, nor the strange men and the auctioning of my life!" She answered.
Her grandmother sighed deeply then began, "We've went over this a thousand times Isabella. You need to be a fine and accomplished lady, which is why you take all of the long classes. You need to be a lady so that a nice young man can take you home to be his well-bred and faithful wife. You need a wonderful husband so that you can have a good life and not need to work like the servants that we have."
"But grandmother! I WANT to work for a living! I want to be an artist." Looking at her grandmother's eyes she quickly added, " Yes I KNOW that many women do not succeed as artists but many do also! I want to grab life by the horns and shake it in my hands!"
"Isabella!" Her grandmother looked shocked. " I will have no more of this talk. Go to your room and think about how wonderful your life will be when you are well settled in with a good, fine husband." So saying this she summoned a maid to get her dressed for a short resting period. Isabella was dismissed.
Inside of her room Isabella fumed. Why wasn't she allowed to go out into the world ands make a living like the servants working in her house?!?!?!? The new stable boy must be about her age and HE could earn HIS living. It should be the same for women as it was men. She decided to go out to the stables and talk to Raphael, the stable boy.
When she got out to the stable she came upon Raphael, hunched over a tablet of some sort, and doing what looked like a sketch of the bird's nest in the trees. He looked so concentrated that she almost did not want to interrupt him.
"Hello," Isabella ventured. " I really love your sketch. It has so much character."
He turned around, startled and looking surprised and said, " Thank you. I love to draw nature. There is something so serene and peaceful about it."
"I agree. I love to sketch nature myself."
"YOU like to draw!" He asked in an accusing voice. He looked at her as if she was lying and he was distrustful of her. "Yes I DO love to draw. I even wish that I could become an accomplished artist as you seem to be but I am not able to be." They talked well into the evening and learned a lot about each other. Their friendship bloomed almost instantaneously. Isabella enjoyed talking with him and over the next following weeks she learned to appreciate life even more.
After her lessons, Isabella raced down to the stables to see Raphael. Raphael was there, gazing out across the land, waiting for her.
"Hello," Isabella said tentatively.
"Hello," Raphael replied. " After our last conversation I've been thinking. You said that you could not stand the thought of living with a husband that you do not love and not working for your own living."
"Yes," she said questioningly.
"Well, you COULD; you might not like this idea but. You COULD . well. um. run away?"
"RUN AWAY!" Shocked Isabella whipped around and stared across the river of grass.
"I'm sorry! It was a crazy idea. I should've never suggested it. It was very wrong of me." He walked around to face her, concern written all over his face.
"No! You've got it all wrong! You don't know how many times I have thought about running away and starting a new life all on my own. But that was the problem, all on my own. I know for a fact that I could never do this all by myself. Actually, I was thinking about asking YOU for help."
"Me?!" He asked surprise showing all over his face.
"Yes you. I even thought out a whole plan too, if you wanted to help[ me. I thought that I could get a carrying case for some of my personal belongings and then I could bring one out for you. We could escape in the night together and start a new life!"
A few weeks later Isabella and Raphael, ran away to Lyon to start a new life. They were married when they reached the city. Isabella's grandmother died of a heart attack after remarrying three weeks after Isabella left. Isabella had four children and two of the girls grew up to be seamstresses for a royal queen, the only boy married the love of his life, and the third girl died at age eight of pneumonia.
And they all lived happily ever after.
I wrote this story for a class in school but I honestly think that this is a really weak story and I am willing to take any odeas on how to change it. Thanks
"Isabella!" A loud and firm voice cut through her fog of thoughts like a knife slicing bread. "Isabella you need to pay attention! Were you even listening to what I was saying about the discontinuity stitch?"
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking about how interesting my lessons are," Isabella lied. "I am so grateful to be able to take these wonderful classes."
"Good." Annabelle, her stitchery teacher said. "You know that a husband looks at your embroidery to see if it is good enough."
"I know," Isabella sighed and then tried to pay more attention to her teacher.
Later that day, Isabella went into her grandmother's bedchambers. She looked around at the lovely embroidery that her grandmother had done around the bed sheet and thought back to her embroidery lesson. She did not understand why a man would care if she was good at embroidery and well accomplished in other stupid areas as well or not. She hated being treated as a piece of merchandise instead of a wonderful and active human being! She was a person! Why didn't the men who came to look at her, as a suitable wife didn't think that she had a brain! She spun around, startled at the sound of an opening door and there in the doorway stood her grandmother, holding her head high and looking like a queen.
"Let me guess," her grandmother started. " You do not like the new suitor that I has taken a great interest in you?"
"No I do not. Not only that but I also do not like the lessons, nor the strange men and the auctioning of my life!" She answered.
Her grandmother sighed deeply then began, "We've went over this a thousand times Isabella. You need to be a fine and accomplished lady, which is why you take all of the long classes. You need to be a lady so that a nice young man can take you home to be his well-bred and faithful wife. You need a wonderful husband so that you can have a good life and not need to work like the servants that we have."
"But grandmother! I WANT to work for a living! I want to be an artist." Looking at her grandmother's eyes she quickly added, " Yes I KNOW that many women do not succeed as artists but many do also! I want to grab life by the horns and shake it in my hands!"
"Isabella!" Her grandmother looked shocked. " I will have no more of this talk. Go to your room and think about how wonderful your life will be when you are well settled in with a good, fine husband." So saying this she summoned a maid to get her dressed for a short resting period. Isabella was dismissed.
Inside of her room Isabella fumed. Why wasn't she allowed to go out into the world ands make a living like the servants working in her house?!?!?!? The new stable boy must be about her age and HE could earn HIS living. It should be the same for women as it was men. She decided to go out to the stables and talk to Raphael, the stable boy.
When she got out to the stable she came upon Raphael, hunched over a tablet of some sort, and doing what looked like a sketch of the bird's nest in the trees. He looked so concentrated that she almost did not want to interrupt him.
"Hello," Isabella ventured. " I really love your sketch. It has so much character."
He turned around, startled and looking surprised and said, " Thank you. I love to draw nature. There is something so serene and peaceful about it."
"I agree. I love to sketch nature myself."
"YOU like to draw!" He asked in an accusing voice. He looked at her as if she was lying and he was distrustful of her. "Yes I DO love to draw. I even wish that I could become an accomplished artist as you seem to be but I am not able to be." They talked well into the evening and learned a lot about each other. Their friendship bloomed almost instantaneously. Isabella enjoyed talking with him and over the next following weeks she learned to appreciate life even more.
After her lessons, Isabella raced down to the stables to see Raphael. Raphael was there, gazing out across the land, waiting for her.
"Hello," Isabella said tentatively.
"Hello," Raphael replied. " After our last conversation I've been thinking. You said that you could not stand the thought of living with a husband that you do not love and not working for your own living."
"Yes," she said questioningly.
"Well, you COULD; you might not like this idea but. You COULD . well. um. run away?"
"RUN AWAY!" Shocked Isabella whipped around and stared across the river of grass.
"I'm sorry! It was a crazy idea. I should've never suggested it. It was very wrong of me." He walked around to face her, concern written all over his face.
"No! You've got it all wrong! You don't know how many times I have thought about running away and starting a new life all on my own. But that was the problem, all on my own. I know for a fact that I could never do this all by myself. Actually, I was thinking about asking YOU for help."
"Me?!" He asked surprise showing all over his face.
"Yes you. I even thought out a whole plan too, if you wanted to help[ me. I thought that I could get a carrying case for some of my personal belongings and then I could bring one out for you. We could escape in the night together and start a new life!"
A few weeks later Isabella and Raphael, ran away to Lyon to start a new life. They were married when they reached the city. Isabella's grandmother died of a heart attack after remarrying three weeks after Isabella left. Isabella had four children and two of the girls grew up to be seamstresses for a royal queen, the only boy married the love of his life, and the third girl died at age eight of pneumonia.
And they all lived happily ever after.
I wrote this story for a class in school but I honestly think that this is a really weak story and I am willing to take any odeas on how to change it. Thanks