El!ot's Dark Shrine

*A short fanfiction for Helen Burns and Jane Eyre.

*Resurgam: I shall rise again.

     Her grave is in Brocklebridge churchyard: for fifteen years after her death it was only covered by a grassy mound; but now a grey marble tablet marks the spot, inscribed with her name, and the word 'Resurgam.'

     My name is Helen, and I have died for fifteen years.

     In my days, I was not leading a good life, I guess. The thing depends on how you define "good", and as to me, a good life meant a life I was supposed to live.

    My life back in Lowood was tough. I remembered the hunger, the illness, and the frost winter which sent me to another region; yet I also memorized the snacks and fire in the stove, which must be more comforting when they came after suffering rather than pleasure. No, it is not these but something else that made my life not as good. It is because I could have been a better one, as God had told me so, but I didn’t. It is because I've never met others' expectation nor satisfied them, except two: Miss Temple and Jane.

     Oh, my little Jane. I wish I could know how things are going with her.

     These two people meant so much to me, that I could say without hesitation, that they two had lit my pathetic life. But Miss Temple and Jane were different. Miss Temple had always been a mentor to me; she took care of me and shared her respectable knowledge with me. I admired her, while I had all my cherishing for Jane. She knew little, compared to Miss Temple, for she was such a young girl, yet she was always willing to listen to my odd ideas and ask me those lovely questions. I used to deny her thoughts about struggle and revenge; I had been living with hurts and had learnt to tolerate them. However, when I opposed to her, her words actually showed me another way to live – to live with one's own dignity. She put a fire in my heart, and warmed my frozen soul – even though she herself probably didn't know this – but the fire came too late. I didn't make it to become someone like her, and I missed her future as well. Although, I firmly believed that she must grow up into a noble one. God knows she will.

     I'm Helen Burns and I have died for fifteen years. My body was buried in this cold mound, while my soul is wandering in God's region, leading a good life. Otherwise, how could I explain the warmth I feel, when the figure of a living girl comes to my mind?

END