The day after Dorians death from Lord Henrys perspective

by joycelynbaby (student)

Joycelyn Asare

The day after Dorian’s death from Lord Henry’s perspective

As Morning rose the sky began to change revealing its bright colours that were hidden during the night. Streaks of florescent orange and red shone as the luminous sun slowly climbed its way to the sky. The joyous morning birds began to sing such cheerful melodies that woke up Mother Nature; the tunes seemed to give the trees life as their branches spread wider and the warm breeze swept through its leaves. Although it seemed like a lovely morning, news of last night’s events has spread; the news of Dorian Gray’s death was on everybody’s lips – some spiteful, some sympathetic.

Lord Henry had awoken, from a nights peaceful sleep only to have an abrupt knock at his door; it was his butler coming to inform him that Lady Agatha, Lord Henry’s aunt, was at his door, Lord Henry changed to his morning attire consisting of a morning coat, a cream ironed waistcoat, and striped trousers. With that he walked along his velvet rug towards the door of his bedroom to go downstairs and great his aunt. “Aunt Agatha to what do I owe this pleasure?” he said as he looked at her slowly rolling his eyes, “come, come have a seat,” Lady Agatha walked over and sat down with such grace on the rich cream armchair, she placed her hands on her lap and stared at Henry up and down as he sat down leaning back into his chair across from her, confused as to why she had arrived at his house before dawn. He looked at her as she looked at him and asked, “May I offer you a cup of tea?” Lady Agatha quickly responded, “I simply haven’t got time for that Henry. I am here to inform you of an urgent matter.” Henry looked at her with a blank expression on his face; raising his left eyebrow “That’s absurd!, you cannot come round early, before dawn and not want at least a cup of tea Aunt Agatha I cannot accept this refusal you must have a cup of tea before delivering such news. I need to prepare myself for what you are about to tell me!” he said almost shouting. Lord Henry summoned his butler to prepare tea and bring it to them at once, shortly later the tea had arrived as Lord Henry and Lady Agatha picked up their willow patterned cups the steam from the tea hit their faces before they took a sip.

“Now then my dear boy, have you not heard?” Lord Henry looked at her in confusion, uncertain of what she was babbling on about. “Aunt Agatha I simply do not understand, what are you on about?” Lord Henry said. Lady Agatha looked at him in astonishment “About Dorian Henry,” there was a long unsettling silence “What about Dorian?” he asked. Lady Agatha placed her cup of tea on the clear crystal glass table that was centred between them and took a deep breath “He’s dead Henry he’s” Henry quickly stood up dropping his cup of tea staining his cream ...

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Henry over to the window and opened his long tussore-silk curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, with that he saw that the beautiful morning he had woken up to had quickly disappeared as the skies had turned grey; the joyous melodies the birds once sang had vanished, there was nothing left of that beautiful morning it seemed as though even the flowers had wilted, all Lord Henry could see out the window was rain falling down, hitting the ash coloured pavements. Moments past before Lord Henry responded “but that’s absurd a boy like Dorian! Too young to die.” Lady Agatha stood up and walked towards him “Afraid not Henry his servants found him last night,” she said taking a breath before continuing with a face of disarray “they had said to have found a wrinkled man lying on the floor and it wasn’t till they examined the ring they recognized who it was.”

Henry turned around slowly folding his arms behind his upright back “Aunt Agatha I’d now like for you to leave my house, you have said what you came to say, now get out!” He said and with that Aunt Agatha left without a word. Henry walked over to his rich cream armchair and gently sat down removing his opium-tainted cigarettes from his right silk pocket and lit one; he smoked it in an unbearable silence. “Dorian my poor boy why have you left the world you once ruled with your youth and beauty.” With a grim bleak expression as the words Dorian is dead played on and on in his head with the fond memory he once shared with him; for once Lord Henry was truly lost for words.

Moments passed before he asked himself, what demons have forsaken him, for Dorian to have died in such a way; did he really sell his soul for a life time of youth and beauty? After all he never did age. Thoughts of why Dorian could have died played on in his mind for a while until he hastily walked up over, fetched his coat and thought are these rumours I hear of my boy Dorian true? The only way to separate the truth from lies is for one to see it with his own eye. With that he closed his finely carved oak door and walked onto the ash coloured pavement, which had been heavily hit with the harsh unpleasant showers. Slowly with his head down walked off into the distance thinking of the possibilities of there being truth to these rumours; that he may have been hit with pure misfortune in losing a friend, a man he had described once as being some brainless, beautiful creatures, who should be always here in winter when we have now flowers to look at, and always here in summer when we want something to chill our intelligence.

Word count: 1003