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[Basically a letter from Sydney Carton, from A Tale of Two Cities right before he dies. It was another creative assignment for my english class. I honestly think I made him out to be suicidal. I even named the document I saved this as 'Suicidal Carton']
I’ve been allowed these brief moments to write down whatever I am thinking about. I am a prisoner of LaForce, taking the place for Mr. Darnay. I swore I would give my life for Miss. Manette or any dear to her, though I must admit I never believed I would have been of any use to her innocent heart. I traded places with Darnay for we look a lot a like, he was charged with death by LaGuilitine. I am now going to that death. As I paced this prison cell I spoke the words I heard once at my father’s funeral, “I am the resurrection and the life saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.” I will be reborn as something greater I think. That greater me will do greater things, and earn a greater love and life then I have known, but I do not mind, for I’ve done my purpose.
I have known little love in my life and I find myself now being grateful for that. I leave no one to weep for me, save the innocent heart that I once opened up to. She may cry, and her child may cry, but none will weep till the heavens are weeping as well, and that is best. I once told Darnay that I cared for no man on earth, and that no man on earth cared for me. Of course the first part was a lie, I did care for one on earth, but the latter was truth, for no man on earth could care for a drunken wretch like me.
I however have met one recently whom I feel I love, whom I feel I could love and live with if not for the unavoidable death I have placed upon my shoulders. She is a young seamstress who has also been sentenced to death at LaGuilitine. She is lovely and kindhearted like Miss. Manette is, but in many ways more so then Miss. Manette. I will be holding her hand on our way to our deaths, she claims she is not scared, just weak, but I see no weakness in her, only unbearable light and warmness. I will hold her hand as close to me as they allow, and I will look only at her, for I feel safe near her. I feel I could open my heart to her. I could allow another in, if only there were time.
Time, however, I fear is something I run short on. My death is scheduled for today and these last words I write down are sentiments, and the finishing of loose ends and thoughts that I have held within me for years. I, once to Lucie, spoke, “For you, and for any dear to you, I would do anything.” Later I told Darnay to write “If you remember the words that passed between us, long ago, you will readily comprehend this when you see it. You do remember them, I know. It is not in your nature to forget them.” I believe she has not forgotten. I trust her not to forget, and I trust her to understand why I do what I do for her today. Though it is a painful thing I do, I do it out of my love for Lucie, and for her child, and even my love for her husband. It is for them I make this sacrifice; it is for them that I find one, and only one purpose, for this drunken wretch at the end of the day. No one will ever know the deed I do for them, no one will weep for me, but that is how I prefer things to be. It is how I choose for things to end.
It would be a folly to believe that I could have ever amounted to any more then I have, as it to would have been folly to believe I would ever be allowed a chance a love other then one as near to their deathbed as I. However the folly is mine, created from the next to last dream my soul ever had, Miss. Manette, and also from the last dream, the seamstress whom I will love until, and long after, my dieing breath. I love her though, and as my thoughts grow more and more distant I focus on her and what she means to me, I focus on the light she has given me. I can follow through with the task I have set myself and complete my one and last purpose in life.
“It is a far, far, better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” I’ll say as I go to my death. I’ll speak these words to her, and then to myself. This death for another is the best thing I have ever done in my life. The place I go to after my death is the best place I have ever gone to, or will ever go to. I have faith that what I do and where I go were meant to happen, and that it is best for everyone that is happens. Though, in all honesty, I wish I could have spent more time with the seamstress who has taken my heart.
 Evelie Harte · Wed Apr 18, 2007 @ 04:26am · 0 Comments |
