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Wuthering Heights - Point of View Number Three, Through the Eyes of Hareton Earnshaw.

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Introduction

MYP 10 Creative Response: Wuthering Heights Point of View Number Three, Through the Eyes of Hareton Earnshaw By: Nikita Malik 10R It's a pale yellow, windy evening in October, outside is drizzling rain, but neither of them have noticed. Inside the house, the two friends sit next to the dimly lit and crackling fire, she on the small stool by the oven, and him near the splintered and ancient dining room table. He has not spoken for a while, but she does not appear to mind the silence. He stares at his hands, rough and covered with sore blisters from fierce work. And then, he studies her, her blond hair like a halo around her head, catching the rays of light from the fire. He wonders if he could ever make her understand. ...read more.

Middle

When he has finished, she begins to speak in clipped and short words, her face pale with anger, her cheeks flushed with emotion. "Yes, Hareton, we are friends, and now that you have me, it is time that you realized how Heathcliff had ruined both our lives. Not just mine, but your life too! He killed my mother, my father, my husband and everybody that I care about. He stole the land of which I am heir, he stole what is rightfully mine, and also what is yours! He destroyed your father, and now he lives in a house that is drowning in lies and deceit. If you don't open your eyes Hareton, we shall drown too!" She stops, her hands in tight fists next to her sides, her nails digging into her skin. ...read more.

Conclusion

The last sentence makes her arise from her stool and start towards him, leaning down; she takes his hand into hers. "Hareton, I never hated you. I was a fool, an utter and spoilt fool, who could not see the friend that you were to me. It was ignorance, not hate. We are friends now, are we not? And if Heathcliff means so much to you, I will never speak ill of him to you again," she says passionately, her eyes sparkling, but her jaw set. As the fire goes out, she gets up slowly to put more wood inside to feed it. Even after she has left his side, he can still feel the touch of her small, soft hands in his. As she moves, her skirt swishing against the hard and dusty floor, her golden hair shining bright around her head, and her long, dark eyelashes framing her face, he wonders if he could ever make her love him. Word Count: 760 Words ...read more.

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