EPTThis was one of my very first attempts at an essay to express my feelings, emotions, and views (stereotypes, thought processes). I have to say that I'am not very good with essays though, I'm only 14 years old, so don't be too harsh when giving constructive criticism.
The Nanny
"Insolence! Impudence! Impertinence!" howled the Nanny, "I've had enough of you, and your nonsense!" The Nanny's voice reached every nook and cranny of the manor, even shaking its wooden foundations. Young Master Bruce was rolling about on the greasy kitchen floor, ruining his cotton shirt. He was laughing uncontrollably, clutching his stomach, snorting , and gasping for a breath of air.
"You're...you're taunting me! You little rat!" screamed the Nanny, with a frenzied, maniacal look on her face. She looked like a woman who had just had her looks insulted by a complete stranger.
The Nanny decided that she had enough of the competuous young master. He had spoilt the broth that she was preparing for dinner twice already - first by emptying an entire shaker's worth of salt into the pot, and second, by adding a jar of pickles to another freshly-made broth. And now, he was brazenly taunting her. A woman can only stand a certain amount of damage to her ego. They will eventually snap; and when they do, all hell will break loose. That is exactly what happened to the Nanny. With nostrils flaring, she grabbed the young master by the frilly collars of his cotton shit and dragged the boy across the floor.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Let me go! You have to business to complain; you are nothing but a mere dependant. Mamma says; you have no money, that you are a peasant. Understand? You are a slave!" bellowed Bruce.
"Such disrespectful behaviour. Simply intolerable and insufferable." The Nanny uttered under her breath savagely.
The Nanny flung little Brute against the wall and struck him swiftly and strongly. Bruce tottered backwards a couple of steps and collapsed on the soft velvet carpet. He felt a drop or two of blood trickle down his neck, and then saw that the Nanny had positioned her right foot a couple of centimeters above the tip of his nose.
"I hate this family." whispered the Nanny.
She then stomped on Bruce's face and broke his nose. Bruce then passed out.
When Bruce awoke, he found himself to be in a rather peculiar room of red. Almost everything was red; or a hue of red. Bruce realised that he was tied to a stool that was placed in front of a bed supported on massive pillars of mahogany, hung with curtains of deep red damask that stood out like a tabernacle in the centre of the room. There were two large windows on either side of the bed with their scarlet red blinds drawn down, half shrouded in festoons and falls of similar drapery. The carpet was carmine, a table at one end of the room was covered in crimson cloth and the wallpapers were a soft fawn colour with blushes of pink.
Bruce felt that the room was rather chilly, as the only real source of heat was the crystal chandelier that hung overhead.
"This is ridiculous, I must say. The room is of such a warm colour, yet it is so chilly in here." thought Bruce.
Bruce then started thrashing about wildly, trying to break free of the ropes, but alas, he fell to the ground, landing smack on his right ear. He screamed in pain. However, the ropes came loose and Bruce was free. He tried to turn the doorknob and escape, but it was locked.
Suddenly, the door flew open and hit Bruce with such a force that he was sent flying across the room. A silhouette of what seemed like a rather large bag was slung over the Nanny's shoulder.
"Come here Bruce... I've got a surprise for you." coaxed the Nanny, intimating Bruce by a gesture that he was to approach and stand before her.
Bruce minced his way to the Nanny, unsure of what to expect. At the same time, the Nanny had laid down the bag she was carrying over her shoulder; it was fastened by a piece of string.
"Untie the bag, boy." ordered the Nanny.
Upon closer inspection, Bruce could see that her hand was stained with dried blood. He did what he was told and hastily undid the knot.
"No!" ululated Bruce, after peering at the contents of the bag.
"Yes." replied the Nanny, with a smirk on her face. "Now, I don't like cavilers, questioners, or whiny little rats sticking their noses where they shouldn't be. I do believe, that it is very clear, that who is in-charge now however."
Bruce whimpered. He felt as it a massive locomotive had just run him over. However, he was also humbled by the consciousness of his physical inferiority. It did not matter, that his parents were rich, death made them equal. Rich or poor, peasant or duke, female or male, none of it mattered - death was the great equalizer.
"I'am so sorry..." Bruce whispered apologetically. It was barely audible.
The Nanny took a step toward Bruce. She did not care.
"Please...Forgive me."
Another step.
"Please! Forgive me! I'll give you anything you wish for!" Bruce was desperate now.
"No."
The Nanny was now standing right in front of Bruce. She drew a silver dagger from her coat, and in a fit of rage, stabbed Bruce, straight through the heart.
-End-
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