The Yellow Wallpaper
After having left in silence with the doctor on her arm, she has forever remained in this bittersweet, numbing quietness in comparison to the chaos experienced at Stanley’s house for so long. There is an internal chaos yet to be discovered.
She now remains in an estate—much like Belle Reve.
She is sitting in a rocking chair. The kind that squeaks ever few seconds upon leaning. She holds a journal on her lap, and a pen rose to her chin. Gazing out of the window, looking at the birds, wishing she could just breathe the fresh air. Not this trapped air where dust particles dance in every ray of sun that shines through. The mood is lonely, yet solemn. She has taken to writing in her journal her first week at the estate.
Ever since my nervous breakdowns, the doctor has always taken good care to me. After we of course fell in love, he thought it’d be best if I came to this estate. He treats me so well, but if you ask me it’s more of a haunted house, this old place.
Oh John! Sweet, sweet John! He is never around as much anymore. He’s always traveling and doin’ things male doctors ought to do I suppose. Oh but how I miss havin’ a man put his arms around me at night, tendin’ to me, tellin’ me what to do so that I may feel all right about all my nervousness. Pardon me—that was inappropriate of me.
He does come home every now and then to check in on me, after all he is a Physician. It seems as if he believes I am not sick! What…