Creative writing. Heathcliffs account of childhood after Mr Earnshaws death. You should aim to create an authentic voice for Heathcliff which builds upon Emily Brontes presentation of this character and captures aspects of the writers chosen form

International Baccalaureate World Literature

Heathcliff’s account of childhood after Mr Earnshaw’s death, during the period of time when Catherine has recently returned from Thurshcross Grange.

You should aim to create an authentic voice for Heathcliff which builds upon Emily Bronte’s presentation of this character and captures aspects of the writers chosen form, structure and language

Hindley the desolate offspring of Mr Earnshaw ascended to the position of new proprietor of The Heights, after the master died. He had been waiting for this his entire unremarkable life; now, finally, his domineering controlling behaviour would serve a purpose. A point which would become clearer as he took sovereignty over all inhabitants, especially my young self. Those days after Mr Earnshaw’s death were dark; the rain wouldn’t stop, I remember Nelly saying “it’s not only us crying, the Gods are too.”

Not only did we have the pleasure of Hindley among us for the Masters funeral but we were introduced to my adoptive brother’s odious wife, Frances. Who, you would have thought, shared in equal measure, the abhorrence that Hindley held in his heart for me. If it was not for these two monstrous concoctions, these pathetic excuses for human life, my early days would have been far less troubled, and I would have had no cause to wreak such havoc amongst the people I loved. However Hindley had different ideas of letting bygones be bygones, and came home with the sort of wrath, which only the all- powerful almighty God has.

The austere and lonely moors surrounding ‘The Heights’ merely emphasised the bitter atmosphere awaiting me, in the place that had been my abode. However it was only Hindley who was openly malicious and hateful towards me, and for that I will always feel nothing but loathing towards him. I would not deign to spit on his burning flesh; instead I would celebrate and dance around his agony in the manner of a pagan, praising the Gods for the gift they have given me; namely his thoroughly deserved death.

All of this started with bitter jealously. The fact that Hindley was ...

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All of this started with bitter jealously. The fact that Hindley was unable to cope with not being the only male his father loved. I will always be grateful for Mr Earnshaw’s wonderfully generous nature for letting me in, and Hindley hated the deep love his sister and I shared. Aware, I have no doubt, that his cold-hearted self would never be able to love the way I loved Catherine. Jealously can be the only reason for his devilish attacks upon me, and for that he will never be granted my forgiveness.

Memories from before his ownership of the ‘Heights’ still give me nightmares, when the creature, as that is the only word to depict him in the English language as he surely cannot be human. Had the audacity to call me a dog and then launched an iron weight toward my chest. The anger and pain inside me I felt at that very moment would have killed him if I was able to lay a finger on him; but Nelly intervened. Now with many years of sorrow and angst I have been able to curb somewhat the murderous and vengeful feelings I experience towards him. Instead I have been quietly plotting against Hindley who I am ashamed to say, by law alone, is my brother.

I admit however, that now that I am stronger, I do enjoy these fights and conflicts we have. “Brothers” have them and if anything they make me fitter and stronger also they show that I am stronger then he, there is a power struggle within the Heights and I realise now that this scares him. Everyone knows that we dislike each other intensely, but the fact he went to extreme lengths in order just to see me miserable, is testimony to his hard hearted acrimony towards me. Sadly, after the loss of Mr Earnshaw there was no one to stop him. He became irrationally obsessed with the power which he had been granted, and did his very best to ensure that I eked out a slave’s existence. I was instructed to undertake a plethora of mindless errands, or copy entire lengthy passages out of the Holy Bible; he gave me many beatings, when he deemed that I had in some way misbehaved. He merely needed to express his displeasure, and I was his vulnerable target.

However despite this ill treatment I did not permit myself to feel sorry for myself. I had the joy of knowing that despite him hurting me, I was in fact hurting him far more emotionally and spiritually with the depth of the bond which I shared with his sister. If it had not been for her presence in my life, I doubt that I should have been able to continue living. With Cathy in my heart , the torment was undoubtedly worth it, just seeing her bright peacock blue eyes elated me far beyond the realms of despair , and allowed me forget about everything.

I longed to see her every moment of every day. Time passed so slowly when we weren’t together. I was truly happy when Cathy taught me all she knew, especially after Hindley concluded I neither deserved nor required the benefits of an education.

We stood against the demoralisation surrounding Wuthering Heights by behaving roguishly on occasion, even though this defiance led to more beatings towards me. However, looking back, life with Cathy at the centre of it was good.

Life, unfortunately however, worsened in quality, I thought it was ghastly to begin with but when Cathy moved to the Linton’s Thrushcross Grange life was truly barely worth living anymore. If that wretched dog hadn’t bitten her ankle I am sure we would have gone on like we were before. I wouldn’t have been forced to treat her like the other servants do. Furthermore Mrs Linton wouldn’t have changed her, she taught her so called “social graces” and transformed the young and innocent girl into a young woman.

How dare she take my Cathy away from me! She changed after those five weeks; these were the most exasperating five weeks of my life. Each day hoping she would come home, back so we could laugh at the snobbish Linton children.

I had been certain that she would have had wonderful stories to tell, what the three of them had got up to, the stories would have made me laugh for years to come I imagined . Instead she came back in a dress, looking beautiful, but utterly different. Not my Cathy at all.

We have grown distant since she returned, and even though life now is dark and cold without the love I and Cathy once shared, a love which I shall never forget. Why I still love and long for my Cathy every day, I will never comprehend. Those days we spent together were the happiest I have ever lived, the conversations we had, and the fact I knew that we both trusted each other so thoroughly was a wonderful thing. I would give anything just to return to those blessed times with my Cathy. I will always be grateful for the love we shared. I beseech any great powers out there to allow me to bask once again in the glory of that love, for Cathy and me to be permitted to return to that happy state of intimacy. Just the two of us where we will grow old together, fortune could throw anything at me, and I would happily take it my stride. Please. Allow this wish to be fulfilled, I need her.

Andrew Corcoran.

Word Count- 1161.