Dwelled did One in Answers, and Unhappy was He

Note to General Public:  This will be the last response which I will have for the story of Jekyll and Hyde.  Now, all the "answers" have been given away -- at least all the ones which Stevenson would like the audience to receive.  Different, are the perceptions of what the story means, so here is my thoughts of what one part of the meaning could be.

In flight through the litany of life, we must muster courage and power to sway away from the edges of hell.  As per given a warning, we cannot then escape into the unknown, because the boundaries are unforgiving. 

Held bondage, we think we are, to a world that doesn’t hold enough for our lives to be content and happy, so rebelled did some, from the society.  Dwelled, did some in the lowly places of hell. 

Though we believe the caution tape, in front of the evilness of hell, is to keep us from conceiving answers to our questions; it is really only to keep us from grievin’. 

We should instead, hold out against our longing hearts, though it is prolonging -- and find a peace in being human, without super-power knowledge of the forbidden answers inside.  So we must fight the temptation, and find the light which will hold us safely behind that hole towards hell. 

An example was given, of a man who wasn’t forgiven, for crossing that ample line to hell.

 And so, we must learn to turn, from concern of the forbidden things, so that we may not return to the tree of that knowledge filled fruit. 

Here we will live, until to dust we return,

and so, take a dive into a pool of new understanding, of how to live content without the conniving answers your heart yearns for. 

Downward Spiral

Author's Note!!! : As always this prompt is about the Jekyll and Hyde reading, and they're just my thoughts about it so far :)

              Deep, he was, in a pit of despair.  How he had gotten himself into such is a state, is to remain hidden and unknown; for how do any of us, really, get ourselves into an unworthy place?  Alas, our friend Hyde was stuck there, in that pit, with no way out.  The only way, was sick and twisted, and in-human – but he did not care, for he had given his soul over to the devil, he was on the other side of humanity now.  With no human feelings left inside, he savagely “stepped” on top of other people in order to get to the top, and out of the hole he had dug for himself.  He threw people’s lives down once they trusted him and ran over them with disregard. The problem, was that his face, and eyes, and voice were foreign and scary, and no sane man who wandered on the streets of London would ever help him, out of the kindness and trust of their hearts.  To solve such a problem, he used one of their own, Jekyll. He was a man to be trusted, and had friends who would be helpful for Hyde's mission.  Though Jekyll would not have willingly allowed him to enter in, and change him, he was curious for the answers Hyde held in his palm. These answers would answer to his hidden longings to be what he could never be – yet these answers left him scarred and screaming for an out.  A down-ward spiral it is, when one man, finds himself as a slave to the devil, for in conniving ways, he also brings down more lives, and makes them lifeless souls. 

Are the Answers Worth It?

 Author's Note to the General Public:  So that confusion is not warranted when deciphering what is written below, consider the basis for why this prompt was written.  In the midst of reading Jekyll and Hyde, I was asked to write about the meaning I have gotten from reading.  So far, ideas are bleary on what will be the conclusion of the story, and yet these ideas below are what I have gotten from it so far!

Bright, the world gleams, when life begins; it is how you wish it to be. Perfectly, all is in place, without unwanted surprises.  Though you know of evil, and are a part of the evil world, you are not evil, you haven’t wrestled with it.  Not yet have friends wandered into the forbidden foregrounds of the unknown flaming forest.  Not yet have you experienced that flame.  The fire hasn’t caught on the hem of your shirt, nor has windows and doors of your friends been shut to you.  Always, life would go on. Always life would be perfect – until that flame caught, and moved like an un-answering wildfire.  It was a flame which answered to no-one, and the eyes of the flame were of something to be feared.  The face of the flame is not something to be reckoned with, and those who see this face, are to never see the bright light of peace and happiness again. The change from innocence, to the knowledge of evil, changes much more, than just your feelings inside, it changes also your outer appearance. From that moment of change, there is no going back to innocence, and tricycles.  When that door of evil is opened and it brings you in, you would rather have just kept walking and never turned to look at the answers inside that door, because behind it is the flickering flaming face, with eyes full of answers.  Answers give you more knowledge, and knowledge calms your curiosity, but it comes at a price; and that price is your body and soul.  So when in consideration of living in a world of pureness, naïve to the answers your heart may long for verses, the world of flame and terror -- thought to hold the answers answers -- search your heart for your true desire because once you go to this side of answers, going back may be impossible, or in the least, cause unbearable pain.                                                                                             

The Curiousness of the Bad-Nature of Persons

 Author's Note to General Public: This is a response to the question of my thoughts so far in the first three chapters of the book, "Jekyll and Hyde"; which is, by the way, an interesting story, which may seem confusing at first -- but I am told that it becomes more intriguing.

 To be wholly good would mean getting rid of all evilness.  If there is but a stink of some distasteful emotion or feeling or act or personality, we try to rid ourselves of the stench because there is something inside of us all that long to be good, and to not do bad things. 

Mr. Utterson is introduced in the book “Jekyll and Hyde” as being a very proper man, doing all the right things for he had the demeanor “in a similar catholicity of good-nature” (38).   He is the absolute appearance of a good and trusted man, and his friends tell him “’I would trust you before any man alive [even] myself’” (57).  Among others, he is one to be trusted and he is very sure of himself; he is also quite alarmed at the taste of evil and bad. 

When a Mr. Hyde enters the scene, Mr. Utterson’s calm, normal, and contented journey of life, takes a left turn.  Deformity threw him off in displeasure, for he had escaped those feelings and actions for so long, and had left them in such a formidable and forgotten attic that the new appearance of such a “creature” stirred up new emotion which he could not figure out to be good, or as something which belonged in the sound town he lived in.  This Mr. Hyde is seen as having “something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something down-right detestable” (43).  So long had it been that the “doors” of their town had been darkened with such a man, and Mr. Utterson, the lawyer, had difficulty accepting such an appearance, “I never saw a man I so disliked, and yet I scarce know why” (43).                                                                                                                   

Morals makes up our instinctual thoughts, and when a man who interrupts the moral connection, there is a disturbance on which awakens the soul, and that brings Utterson to full alert.  When distracting morals catch a person’s thoughts, they become curious, just like Mr. Utterson wondering about Mr. Hyde. Perhaps he will in the future want to understand Hyde and the answers he receives may bring him into a new life in which he doesn't belong; for he is a very proper and put-together man.

Lost in the Arms of a Stranger

Author's Note: This is a short story written for HE10.  It is a story written to show deep emotion, and not for telling the plot.

Gone. All of the innocence and love in her heart. Gone, the red tricycles and pink ribbons in her hair that streamed behind her with a warm summer breeze lingering behind. Lost. All of the self worth, smiles and family who she adored. Lost to the hands of violence, of hatred, of evil, of rape. Dead.

In his hands, I wasn’t myself.  The me who I knew deep in my heart wasn’t the me, living as me, in the world.  I had been captured by someone else.

Do you know what that feels like? To know that what people see isn’t really who you are.  That the way you act around people isn’t really who you are inside, who you were meant to be.  That you had been robbed of yourself, and who they think you are, is all a lie. 

She lies to herself, and says she’s not affected by anything.  Lying to herself is the easiest, but believing that lie gets harder day by day, especially when she’s reminded of the truth. The truth that she talks to people differently. The truth that she don’t know what to think anymore.  No longer does she know what she’s supposed to think about certain things.  Her stance on subjects waver because she don’t know who she is, she has been captured by a lie because of what he did.   

Here in a cell disguised as my bedroom, my heart thumps rapidly against my chest, as if it were trying to run away.  Away from the Terrible Awful. Away from life.  Away from unfair circumstances.  No matter how hard I try to squeeze the thought out of my mind, it would return like a raging and reckless bull.  No longer could I deal with this Terrible Awful, I had to do something. 

Click… breath in… breath out. Loud crack, then silence.  A sickeningly silent sound fills my ears. 

Death had entered the stale room, life had vaporized into nothingness; and yet, my heart, felt light. I sensed the waves of an airy breath of relief passing over my entire body, and a new sense came about me, I was in complete ownership of my emotional self. 

Now, no more fear, no more hate, no more dread, no more.  Now, only hope, only love, only peace, only herself.  She wasn’t held hostage to any other being, any longer, she had been set free, So she rose – rose as high as she could.

Life was perfect, I was perfect.  My mind was silent, it no longer looped and twisted and turned as if it were a tornado.  All loops and twists had come together in full circle, things made sense, my life made sense.  Sadness and worrying were no longer a part of me, I was solely me.  Without all the hatred and fear, I could be who I was born to be.  The crying and whimpering that I had heard coming from my mouth every day since the Terrible Awful months before, had suddenly stopped, my ears rejoiced at the thought.

Alas, a muffled, familiar sound below me, awakened me from my joyous thoughts.  Crying.  There below me, my mother gasped for breath as she lay in her bed, sobbing.

Foolishly, I had thought I could run away from life, away from pain, away from hate, away from rape.  To escape that, would be to escape reality.  The destination for being away from it all could only be found where whiteness overtakes, and all things glow and beauty is complete. 

If abandoning life meant sorrow for people who had loved me, I don’t think I want it anymore.  No – running was not the answer, facing the wound may hurt, but recovery would come.  There is more to life than me, and wallowing in my pain; I could make a difference by sharing my story.  Instead of selfishness, I could be generous, and share the pain with other young ladies.  I could become the person I was to be, I could turn my pain into my gain, and do a greater good for the world, and the girls who feel the same as I.  There is hope…

As she goes to reach out to her mother, she suffers a miraculous pain upon the length of her body; a horribly bright whiteness rages all around her, with a sound like the calmness of the ocean – then all is pitch and hushed.