The Diary of Eva Smith Pearl Sakoane
The story follows the tragic tale of a young woman in the beginning of the century left
to fend for herself after being hurt and taken away from the things and people she
most loved in her short life. Just before the World War started in Britain, inside she is
slowly losing her own battles.
August 1910-
It's been a long and endless summer. Aunt Beth was nearly killed because of that
sickly disease goin around and I couldn't refuse what
little money I had left for her medicines. It's the same story or something similar, with
the other girls at work. Going for a whole summer with any money coming in.
It's hard.
The girls and I have set up a protest for higher wages. If we're lucky they'll listen, but
I doubt it. that Mr Birling is too smug to understand, they all are.
August 10-
We were so ready to face him head on, but the way he looked at us, as if we were
trespassing on holy land. He didn't even look me in the eye that coward, he simply
looked ahead as if I wasn't even there, like I had no right to exist. The whole meeting
with Mr Birling tore down any hope of justice I had in me. But I'm not doing this for
money or to bring Mr Birling down. I'm only trying to give hope to all the other millions
of faithless people. I'm trying to tell them that there is hope and there is something to
look forward to.
There is a wall between us and the rich and prosperous, the higher we try to climb it,
the higher it becomes. I've seen the brightness, the happiness and the security, so I
know there is alot to hope for and I know there is light at the end of the tunnel.
But then I stop. I look around me. The memories come flooding back along with the
tears. I remember the dreary surroundings, the prisonlike atmosphere. Then my smile
fades, the dreams disappear and recede into the distance. I remember the way I fit in
so well with the shadows of my four cornered room. The blackness so dense no light
can shine through, so hollow there's no escape and so infinite that there's no hope.
Mr Birling with his elaborate talk on respect and earning what you get. He revolted
me. What does he possibly know about respect? He places himself above us all as
though he were God. What does he honestly know? He is just an exmaple of the many
others just like him and worse. In the eyes of God we are all born equal and no better
then the other, we are not scum or a nuisance to society, we are society. Some day the
upper class will wake up from heir fantasies and see just how merciless and vile they
are. They walk around so blinded by their own conciet, that they don't see that as many
baths they have, as many pairs of gloves they wear, they still walk the same polluted
streets and breath the same stenched air.
September 1910-
As I predicted they never listened. They don't want to understand, and I don't think
they ever will. The girls and I tried, we sent petitions around, we offered to work more.
It was no good. I, along with the others were fired and told never to return. If only they
knew how we scrape to get a decent meal each day, how we bleed and sweat to fill their
stomachs. Mr Birling will learn someday, he will regret his arrogance. For now though
I've got to find work soon or I will starve.
December 1910- My new Job at Milwards
Finally, my prayers have been answered. After months of desolation and solitude, I've
found something new to focus on. I may not be able to buy a great many things with the
salary, but I'll be make this work for me. My life is still a bit dim, but I can see clearly
now and this job will definitely put new found hope into my life. I've also met a
wonderful ...
This is a preview of the whole essay
I've got to find work soon or I will starve.
December 1910- My new Job at Milwards
Finally, my prayers have been answered. After months of desolation and solitude, I've
found something new to focus on. I may not be able to buy a great many things with the
salary, but I'll be make this work for me. My life is still a bit dim, but I can see clearly
now and this job will definitely put new found hope into my life. I've also met a
wonderful woman who was able to make me smile again.Miss Richardson. She works
as the shop assistant at Milwards and never ceases to amaze me. She probably has no
idea what it's like having one friend in the world. It's like being pulled out of cold
water. This job has really changed the course of my life and the great wound in my
heart is slowly healing.
When I look around I see faces painted full of joy and happiness. Then I wonder why.
It's a great mystery to me why some deserve perfection and felicity and others don't.
But what is really behind their faces only God knows. All I know is I wish I could hide it
as well as they can.
For now though I try to get by, to wake up tomorrow and smile to the world. That's how
much this job means to me. It's the key to my happiness and the new focal point of my
exsistance.
January 1911-
I had a lonely Christmas, although I did spend New Year's with Miss Richardson. The
Birling ladies came into the store yesterday, and yet again troubled my life. The young
Miss Birling, who was in a rather edgy mood tried on one of our Silk French evening
gowns. She obviously had no idea how they were worn, which surprised me. Not
wanting to embarass her, I held it up to me, to show her how it was worn. She took it
from me and held it up wrongly and Miss Richardson laughed at her, I couldn't help but
smile too. By the look of the store manager when Miss Birling left, I was in serious
trouble.
Febuary 2 1911-
Miss Richardson and the store manager had a long talk this morning and things look
uncertain for me.
I honestly can't understand what is wrong with these people, they take offence to
everything. I only try to please them, but it seems I'm a pebble in their shoe, how can
anyone love a pebble in their shoe? Why do I feel like there's a bomb in my head, an
explosion in my heart, a wound in my soul. I feel like an empty cup begging, yearning
to be filled. Right now I'm just emotionally exhausted, empty, and drained to the core. I
just can't affored to lose this job. I can't.
I've lost enough in my life and this would be too much.
Febuary 21 1910-
I've been ripped to the core and crushed to dust. I don't know how to express my
emptiness and anguish. There's that word again. Empty. How else can I explain my
humiliation and hurt when I was robbed of something I deserved better than anyone.
What happened to Eva?
How did I get so lost in this so called life? It was never supposed to be this way. I was
never supposed to cry myself to sleep, only dream myself to sleep. I was supposed
lounge in a large Chateau in France and sleep in the finest linen. I was supposed to be
draped in Ocean blue silks and Swiss diamonds. My hair was supposed to be bound in
ribbons and held in perfect ringlets. I was supposed to wear a smile that could brighten
a dismal day. But no. None of that, only pipe dreams. Then again, people like the
Birlings eat, sleep and have things my dream are made of. I wish I had the grandeur
life my mother had before she married my father. Daisy Renton. I wish I was my
mother and her exhuberant life of eloquence she had before I came.
March 1911-
I'm still out of work and have decided to completely reform my life. I want to live like
my mother. I want to be Daisy Renton.
I've had to wear things a woman of my rank should not.
Then again, I lost my wonderful eminence a long time ago.
The work I'm deciding to do is only temporary. Until I'm able to acquire my dreams. As
long as I don't get too affectionate with the men I work with, I'll be alright.
Mother would be disgusted at what I'm doing with myself, not forgetting using her
precious name to do it. But I'm only doing what I feel is right.
I'm so hungry I can almost feel my spine by pushing in my stomach. Is that possible?
March 19 1911-
I've made about £3 from the men I worked with. They're disgusting and make me sick
from the improper things they do. I wonder what their wives and children must think,
while their husbands and fathers go gallavanting with women about town. Though,
there was a man who caught my eye. I've seen him at the Palace Bar, but somehow, he
seemed not to fit in with the rest. I only saw his side because he shadowed himself as
though he did not want to be seen there. Well, I could think of a thousand things I'd
rather be doing then being in that hellhole. Somehow when I saw him it was like there
was a familiarity. I don't know, maybe because we had something in common.
March 24 1911-
The man I talked about, the shadowed one at the Palace Bar, I met him last night and I
think I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. He's a dignified man. The tall dark and
handsome type. He speaks with a velvety sensousness that could melt even the most
glacial of hearts. I just couldn't keep my eyes off him. Somehow we could see through
each other. He knew I disliked the Palace Bar and I knew that he wouldn't make me do
anything I didn't want to. There's something about Gerald Croft and my empty cup is
slowly being filled with it.
April 1911-
Gerald is truly a gift from above, he's heaven sent. He makes me smile when I'm
unhappy and he says things that set my heart on fire. When we were together last night
he made me feel whole again and when I ran my fingers down his back, I remembered
Eva Smith, and I saw myself in his eyes. Everything was there. My dreams and myself.
I saw them in his eyes. In those few moments of reckless passion, I wanted more than
just a liaison. He told me about his fiance. He wouldn't give me any details, only that
she was from a high ranking family. Anyway, it was better that he didn't fill me in on
the details.
June 13 1911-
Today was simply the happiest day of my life. This, of course, was all due to Gerald's
undying love for me. This all seems so sensless and unreal when I read it, but it's truly
how I feel. I no longer hunger for fullfilment because Gerald nutures my soul.
We could just sit for hours whispering sweet nothings. I can't begin to tell you how he
revives me with his smile that seems to remind me of what I've hoped for in my life. He
sees Eva, not Daisy, Eva.
Because it was my birthday I woke up to the smell of camomile tea he had prepared for
me and the most beautiful topaz ring amongst a dozen red roses. I've never felt more
of a need to survive more than I had today. I was a woman today.
August 5 1911-
It's been two months and I haven't seen or heard from Gerald. I know he attends
buisness meetings, and I know he has another life beyond these walls but don't I
matter? I guess I don't. His letters have become more formal and not as romantic, his
touch has become cold and unfeeling and I don't see myself in his eyes anymore. I
wonder why he brought me to this place? I'd rather live amoung grime and rats than
alone and afraid, like now in this house. Perhaps he has rekindled his love with his
fiance. I so, she's an incredibly fortunate woman.
September 3 1911-
I should have seen this coming. I should have prepared myself for this hurt. Right now
I feel numb and I know there's no cure for my aching heart. I'm a grown woman, I can
handle it. I was stupid to let my guard down. There's no time to feel sorry for myself.
Gerald came by to bring me the delightful news of our breakup. He even took back the
ring. Well damn him, damn the ring and damn the world. The stupid thing would have
reminded me of him anyhow.
October 1911
I have come down to Bluebelle Beach to think of my path from here. It reminded me of
when mother, father, Jamie and I used to spend summer here. Life was so much
simpler then, smiles were more frequent. Maybe if I stay just till the end of the month
I'll remember the tranquility and decide my course of action.
November 6 1911-
I've decided to become Daisy Renton again. Eva is too vunerable and delicate, she'll
get rundown quickly. Daisy Renton is temporamental and she is cohensive. Speaking
of which, I met a man last night. He was slightly sozzled, but approachable. His name
was Eric Birling. Just my luck another Birling. He is rather handsome, but not manly.
Big, blue, bloodshot eyes met my gaze when I tried flirting with him. He was an easy
catch and a bit immature and he's well cut tufts of fair hair were all messed up to match
his state of mind. He told me I looked like an angel and a whole lot of other rubbish. In
the end, I just got tired of him talking nonsense so I left.
November 20 1911-
I met up with Eric again which was probably the biggest mistake of my life. We slept
together, which I didn't mind at first. Now when I think of it, I feel violently sick. I just
wish I hadn't gotten mixed up with a pathetic excuse for a man like him.
Deember 12 1911-
My life is just crumbling, and my soul feels empty again. I wish I could just die. If it
weren't for the curse which Eric has planted in me, I would have just slit my rists and
watched my life pour down the drain. I hate the little wretch. Men like him and Gerald
will use you and laugh while you're bleeding.
I just found out I am pregnant. How will I cope? Who will feed us? This is all too much.
Am I going mad? I can almost feel my mind seeping through my ears. Where do I go
from here?
January 1912-
I spoke to Eric and told him about my financial situation and he offered £50. I wouldn't
tell him about the baby because considering his immaturaty he would lost control of the
situation. I took the money because we would need it, but I really can't bring a child
into a world like mine.
Daisy Renton is not working for me. Her life is too dangerous. I honestly have to get
my life sorted. I can't remember how I ended up here in this mess. Where do I go?
July 1912-
I can feel myself slipping like sand through my fingers. I couldn't believe what I saw in
my reflection. When I stared at the person in the filthy street water, I wanted to cry out
in agony. She was as white as bone and her skeletal features jutted out painfuly. She
looked as though the strength of a cool breeze could break her, because of her fragile
structure. Her hands were no more than twigs of a branch. Was that me? Were those
my tired sorrowful eyes and dark rings deepening them evermore? Was that my large
belly being carried by a frail structure? Was a child going to be calling that frail
monster mummy?
I couldn't bear to look at myself and all of a sudden I felt as though a thousand eyes
were watching and pointing.
At that point I remembered why I wasn't in my prison cell hiding. I was supposed to try
one last time to make something of myself, and to give my baby the chance in life that
he/she deserved and even more love then I could ever dream of. But then I saw her in
my reflection and I had to hide in the shadows like I had been for months.
July 12 1912-
I finally did it. I finally plucked up the courage to seek help. I regained my hope after
the women from the Woman's Charity Organisation were handing out food at the Town
Hall. I never knew that I was going to end up mortified and helpless again. I thought
these women knew how I felt. Of course, they come from the first world, how could
they possibly ever imagine my three years of hell? All I ever wwanted was to start
over for me and my baby. But how many times have I said that to myself, I'm still
living in hell aren't I? I might as well go there before my melancholia drives me insane.
Whether I be living or dead, hell is still the same isn't it? I wish the Women's Charity
Organisation could see me now.
July 23 1912-
This is probably my last entry because just over an hour ago, I drank strong
disinfectant I bought with the money left over from the £50. I also have whooping
cough so there's really no chance for my precious baby to survive. It's better if we both
just go, I don't want my baby alone in her grave. I will never be able to justify my
desicion even if I live, but would it be fair to bring my baby into this forlorn and futile
existance? I had so many dreams and they were shattered just because I lied about my
name. Would it be fair to raise a child amoung such callous and merciless people? Why
bother?
Right now I can feel the effect of the disinfectant. It's like a demon chewing at my
insides and savagely ripping apart my gutts. The pain is becoming stronger everytime I
breath. It feels like I've been hit over the head by a brick. The pain grows like a
hungry monster. It feels as though I'm goi
Eva Smith
888-1912
Pearl Sakoane
10SCJ
