From a young, I, Marylin Elliot, had the urge to break away from the grips of my socialite life. My father, Jared Elliot, was a powerful lawyer in New York City. My mother, Samantha Elliot, married a social class up and was the perfect housewife. From a young age they dolled me up and put me on displayed to their friends. As I grew older they laid out a set of strict guidelines that I must follow, which included me marrying a suitor of their choice and producing a male heir. My parents made it apparent that I had to surround myself with the right people. It was insisted upon me that I should always be presentable because everyone has their eyes on me. The life my family made for me consists of the glamour from The Great Gatsby, but it comes at the price of my freedom.
A great source of inspiration for were the …show more content…
“It’s 1949. Are you feeling okay?” they replied with a concerned voice. “Yes, I am,” my voice quivered. Yesterday it was 1929. How could twenty years pass, and I was unaware of it? “By chance do you know where the Elliot law firm is?” The stranger looked up at me sadly. “During the Great Depression the Elliot’s lost everything. When the US entered World War 2, Mr. Elliot got drafted and was killed, before that Mrs. Elliot died of a broken heart because her daughter ran away from her and never came back. We all assumed she was murder.” “Thank you,” I gave quick, polite head nod and walked away from the stranger. I could feel my heart shatter into a million little pieces. Heat rose in my cheeks as I struggled to put together what was happening to me. My vision started to become blurry as the damn started to overflow onto my face. I could feel my hands tremble as I to attempted to repair the damn that broke. I squeezed my hand into fists because I gained my freedom, but at a high cost. I walked mindlessly through the streets convinced I would wake up and this nightmare would be
A great source of inspiration for were the …show more content…
“It’s 1949. Are you feeling okay?” they replied with a concerned voice. “Yes, I am,” my voice quivered. Yesterday it was 1929. How could twenty years pass, and I was unaware of it? “By chance do you know where the Elliot law firm is?” The stranger looked up at me sadly. “During the Great Depression the Elliot’s lost everything. When the US entered World War 2, Mr. Elliot got drafted and was killed, before that Mrs. Elliot died of a broken heart because her daughter ran away from her and never came back. We all assumed she was murder.” “Thank you,” I gave quick, polite head nod and walked away from the stranger. I could feel my heart shatter into a million little pieces. Heat rose in my cheeks as I struggled to put together what was happening to me. My vision started to become blurry as the damn started to overflow onto my face. I could feel my hands tremble as I to attempted to repair the damn that broke. I squeezed my hand into fists because I gained my freedom, but at a high cost. I walked mindlessly through the streets convinced I would wake up and this nightmare would be