About Lincoln College

Essay
Alexandrea Davis

Louise Mallard finally broke away from the constraints her husband placed on her after her surprising and tragic death in the late 1800’s. She now finds rest and freedom from her husband of twenty- two years, Brently Mallard, here in Evergreen Cemetery. Like most women in those days, marriages were just a task they had to take on, and romanticism and love wasn’t always present. This is why in marriages such as the one Louise and Brently had, Louise was always unsatisfied and unhappy.

I wasn’t always unhappy with Brently. When we first met I was very taken aback by his handsome features, intelligence and charm. At such a young age of twenty he already seemed so in tune with the ways of the world and ready to take on anything presented to him. When we first met, I knew we would marry. It wasn’t love and first sight; we were just compatible. At the time I felt I would be some what satisfied with him for the rest of my life. Shortly after, I learned he was intolerable.

I was never one to believe in love or dream about a future as a wife or mother, I just knew it was my duty to society to take on a husband and create a home for him and our family, but children never came. After Brently and I were wed I began discussing how many children we should have and what they would be called, but he often dismissed the subject as inappropriate as we were still a young couple and needing to work out our relationship. After he continually dismissed my talk of children I learned that his intent was never to have any. He was too into his job and making money doing side work. All he cared about was money and materialistic things, not how I was at all.

It was then that I began feeling hatred towards him. My emotions were often mixed and my decisions were flighty and not well thought out. I was up and down with my thoughts of him, sometimes happy sometimes not. We never agreed on anything and were always fighting.

He spent most of his time working during the day hours which kept me pleased and made him likeable. I was able to keep my mind off of him and find pleasure in nature, bird watching, and reading. It was during the night hours when he was back at our house with me for dinner and in bed that he got to me. He kept off of me most of the time, mainly because he didn’t want children, but sometimes I felt it was because he didn’t want me. It was alright though; I didn’t want to spend time wanting someone that didn’t really want me anyway. I just wanted to keep to myself and my own thoughts and dreams of a future without him.
I didn’t suspect him of seeking pleasure in other women, I just knew he was. At times I wanted to please him and make him want to come home to me at night. At other times my thoughts would change and I would no longer care that he was out and about at all hours of the night with women and booze. For the most part I didn’t care, as long as he wasn’t around controlling me or making me feel like I was inferior or worthless to the world.

I often hoped news would come to my doorstep about his death. In my mind I created tragic scenes that depicted in heroic deaths for Brently which made me smile and soon after, cry. Then irony struck my life one day. News did come of Brently’s death; it was a railroad accident just outside of Boston. My immediate reaction was tears. There was no concern to myself of my heart trouble. My heart was beating just fine, quickly but very steadily.

A tremendous weight was lifted from my chest and shoulders when Richards broke the news to me. I knew that with his death there would be freedom. I fled to my room to rejoice and collect my thoughts, but not to mourn over Brently. I whispered under my breath, “Free, free, free!” For the few minutes I was alone in my room I was free.
Shortly after my victory over Brently, my sister Josephine asked me to open the door and come down stairs. She didn’t want me to be alone. I really had them all fooled into thinking that I was at a loss for words over his death and that I was really saddened by the news, but I was rejoicing.
Then true tragedy struck, while descending the stairs I was alarmed with the greatest surprise I was ever been presented with in my life. My husband Brently came through the door and he was very alive. I was never one for surprises so you can imagine the shock that came over me that day. It most definitely wasn’t a happy surprise either; it actually resulted in my death.

The doctors said I died of a heart disease- of joy that kills. I never thought it was the heart defect, I knew it was seeing Brently’s face again that really killed me.

Please don’t feel sorry for me, or the life I had here on earth with Brently. I was alone and unhappy most of the times, but there still were some great parts of my life. I only hope that you all can find happiness and peace with yourselves here on earth before it’s time for you all go. Keep in mind that you can find happiness with yourself rather than through someone else and if a marriage isn’t working, move on from it.

About the Author:
This creative monologue was written in English 105: Introduction to Literature Class, taught by Kathleen Kirk. It speaks in the voice of Louise Mallard from "The Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin.

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