Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in Miss Jane Eyre of -Shire's LiveJournal:

Monday, July 17th, 2006
8:07 pm	READER- I apologise that this entry is so short, but I shall tell you why in a minute. Last night, Mr. Rochester found me in the parlor and we were about to speak privately when he decided instead to answer the door. He proceeded to tell the man at the door that he is the master of the house, also a gypsy farmer and that I, Jane- now referred to as Olga- was his servant. I was ordered to get the man a glass of water to quench his thirst and then, of all things, I was ordered next to read his palm! What do I know of reading palms? I decided on the truth. I told the man that now that he was in this house, he will not be able to leave, and the powers of the mansion will start to way heavily upon him as they have on others and myself. As of late, I have hardly been able to read or write, or in some cases- read palms, without becoming completely exhausted. I believe that for some reason, the possessed house has taken a physical sort of penance on me. I can only hope that this fatigue leaves my body soon, for I have had to stop writing this many times now. Also, Mr. Bones has decided, now that he is not possessed by the devil incarnate, that he wished to court me. I was quite surprised to be sure. Although I have been called many different things such as 'plain', my basic shape IS decent, I should think. Imagine my reaction when Mr. Bones called me an 'Ox' with such adjectives as being in such fortunate possession of 'child-bearing hips'! I was shocked, to say the least, but Alas, he is above my station, and so, as a modest and humble servant, I must maintain as well as possible my position. To make matters worse, everyone that had congregated in the parlor last night was subjected to a cruel punishment by the house and all were shrunk to a very small size, so small that in fact, one could crawl under a chair and stand quite comfortably. There was one slight problem though. I seemed to have been severely disproportioned when we shrank, for I was the tallest instead of the shortest. Mr. Bones was putting himself in such a position that if I had not held tightly to him, he would have been stepped on by Mrs. Linton's foot. I am afraid he has decided not to court me any longer, it was such a blow to his monstrous ego, although I must say that I am somewhat relieved. What I am not relieved about is how I have had to man handle him. I do not care for the way I am treating him and I shall apologise. I can only hope that he will accept it. For now, I must leave you, for trying to write with a normal sized pen when you are very very small is very very difficult, and I have grown weary again. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, July 12th, 2006
8:46 pm	Yesterday evening, Mr. Bones was exorcised by the resident priest of the manor. Mrs. Linton, Doctor Jekyll and myself were told to wait outside the room, so I could see nothing, but hearing it was enough. There was screaming, and terrible noises, and much crashing and breaking. I can only remember one other time when I was so frightened; in the Red Room, where I was locked in for the night by my aunt, Mrs. Reed. Soon, it began storming violently and everything was mutilated by the sharp shards of fragmented lightening outside. I ran from the hall, not wishing to stay at that moment in time. I wandered the house before managing somehow to make my way back to my room and bolting the door soundly. There were several other matters of consequence and worth mentioning to you. Firstly, I do believe that the creature I had seen in the attic months ago is becoming quite active again. There was unbelievable, unearthly sounds coming from upstairs, but I could not bring myself to go and investigate. Secondly, Mr. Rochester was ordering me around as per his usual last night. Well, that is hardly worth mentioning, I apologize, but he is also my third point of serious importance. After Miss Daae, and her "husband" left the parlor, and so did Mr. Heathcliff and Mrs. Linton, it was only myself and Mr. Rochester left. I intended to sit and entertain him with my thoughts if he so wished it, but he bade me to sit with him on the sofa and when he spoke, my breathing started to quicken ever so slightly. It alarms me to note that as he spoke to me of a love that he could not cease from thinking of, that I had, in my mind, hoped it was me he was speaking of. I almost let my thoughts rise from me, but the moment before these precious words could spill forth from my mouth, he professed that his love was for Miss Linton. I cannot express my deep depression after this utterance, either because I am afraid to, or because I am speechless, or possibley both. How could I be so foolish as to think that Mr. Rochester could foster such feeling towards myself of no connexions? Current Mood: depressed Current Music: My pen scratching on the parchment. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 11th, 2006
3:09 pm	This house is becoming more perplexing with every second that I am here. Everyone is acting very strangely. I received a great fright when the other evening, Mr. Bones called to me in the voice of a little girl and asked me to come and play. I did not know that it was him, I thought it was Mary, the only little girl in residence at the Manor, so I went to see if she indeed wished to play. Mr. Bones was sitting on the stairs and when I got near to him, he grabbed me and began to drag me up the stairs! He had been acting strangely before, but now, I am not even sure that I am wanting to know who he truly is, for fear that this might actually be his natural character. He kept switching the tone of his voice and asking me where Miss Linton was. Whenever I expressed to him that I did not know of her where abouts, he would smash my head into the wall. I certainly thought he could do no worse than this, but I was deeply sorry that I thought that even for the tiniest of seconds. Shortly after this, he hung me out of a second story window and demanded once again that I tell him where Miss Linton was and that if I did not, he would drop me. Even though I could not tell him, he did bring me inside again, I think there is still a salvagable piece of human inside of him for this deed. The little girl's voice was back, and it was the last thing I remember before I was thrown down the staircase. I must thank whomever it was that helped me, I am sure that I owe my life to these persons. Also, I feel I am being affected by this house. I always have had a wild temper, but I have never in these past eight or so years felt the urge to let it flare. One evening, I sat in the parlor with Mrs. Linton, Mr. Heathcliff, and Miss Daae. Accepting my role as servant, I sat quietly in the corner and made sure they had tea and biscuits and listened to their conversation with a closed mouth, that is, until Miss Daae spoke of how Mr. Bones almost threw her into a well. I know this must have been terribley frightening for her, and anyone can guess what else that poor young women has had to deal with from her husband, but for some reason, I could not for the life of me keep my mouth closed. I have not done that since I was but a little girl speaking to my aunt, Mrs. Reed. I feel utterly terrible about my actions, and I believe, as I apologized to Miss Linton and Mr. Rochester, so I must apologize to Miss Daae, I can only hope she can forgive my incredibely rude slip of wit and mouth. Also, reader, please note, I still call her "Miss Daae" although I am sure that is no longer her name. I still care for her and refuse to call her by whatever last name he carries, or to even acknowledge the abhorred marriage by referring to her as "Mrs" or "Madame". I bid you adieu for tonight. God bless, Jane. Current Mood: discontent Current Music: The wind blowing and the rain pouring outside my window. (Comment on this)
Monday, July 3rd, 2006
10:18 pm	Where do I begin? These past months have flown by, and yet, seemed to take forever to pass, all at the same instant. I have had more confrontations with that masked man, and all times, he has been quite fowl of mouth and character. He has married my dear friend Miss Daae and has made her utterly miserable in doing so. I do care for her, and wish for her to come to me if she ever needs a friend to speak with, or a shoulder to lean upon. What is more, I have befriended a man called Mr. Renfield, servant to the Count Dracula. He is not quite right, but friendly enough to me. I helped him to name a pig, of which he insisted was his son (I must say, I panicked slightly when he mentioned this to me one evening), but I realized both were quite harmless, or so I foolishly assumed. Jr., he was called, grew to the an incredible size and developed into an evil Pig Man. I shall have more on this happening in a moment, for I must first introduce again to the equation, Mr. Rochester of Thornfield Hall. I had not seen this man since I threw the vase of water and flowers at him. He disappeared these past months and then insisted upon telling me that he had been away for ten years and that we (Mr. Renfield and I) were in the wrong. When Mr. Renfield had quitted the room, he spake to myself and Misses Isabella Linton and Christine Daae. I was ordered by him to play the piano-forte, and then when he decided it was not to his liking and callabre, sent me to prepare tea. Before I could leave the room, Mr. Renfield had returned, covered in some sort of vile and rancid smelling meat steak and insisted upon going to feed Jr. I would not let this happen, and tried pleading with Mr. Rochester to please help me to desuade him, but he would not. The Pig Man (this is back to my previous story, reader) burst through the trapdoor, of which, I happened to be standing in front of. At this, Mr. Renfield ran from the room and out into the grounds outside, with the Pig Man following him. Mr. Rochester turned to me and made an insulting comment, to which I responded by going out to look for Mr. Renfield and help him. I managed only to bring him back into the safety of the house, and there, he and Mr. Rochester decided to go after the Pig Man themselves, although, not before a few more incredibley insulting and degrading comments from the Mr. Rochester. When he left, I had gone into the parlor again to find the book I had been reading earlier, only to find that Miss Linton had thrown it into the fire blazing in the grate. Granted, I was upset with her before this, and for many days previous, but I could take it no longer and expressed to her what my true feelings of her were. I regret doing so, and found myself not acting as the proper lady I was trained to be at Lowood. Following this disgusting treatment of her, I confined myself to my room for the night and cried myself to sleep, both because I was made to feel absolutely horrible and because I had mistreated both Miss Linton and later then that, Mr. Rochester. The next day, I made the decision to apologise to both parties involved, and both thankfully forgave me. I must say now, or I shall forever hold this in and let it well up inside my body like a beast waiting to rear it's ugly head that I still feel quite abused by the pair. I suppose this is quite normal, for I am indeed lower class and they are upper. I was told by Mr. Rochester to put a flower pot on my head and walk around for Miss Linton to use at moving target practice with his revolver. After this, I was ordered yet again to make tea and serve them and though they begged me to sit and converse with them, I have decided thus that my station is that of servant, nothing more nothing more shall or should ever come of it. I stayed reserved and and ready to wait on them if the need arose. I should take my leave of you now, Mr. Rochester and Miss Linton will be taking a walk through the gardens tonight, and Heaven forbid they should need tea when they get back and it not be ready that instant with baked goods and jams on a tray for them. (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 30th, 2006
10:40 pm	I have not had a chance to update you on the latest goings-on with myself, and for that I am sorry. I have made new friends in this place in which every person whether man or woman seems to brood helplessly. To start at the beginning... I sat in the parlor as of two nights ago, sketching in my pad of paper that is sadly no more (I shall get to that point in the story, please be patient), I decided to give one last gallant attempt at befriending that great brooding man at the organ that everyone keeps telling me to stay clear of. I simply wished to prove them wrong and make a friend of him. I suppose I pushed him too far, and I was locked in a dark closet (which I did not see behind me before). As you might well remember, I do not like dark places in which I am forced into. I began to hyperventilate and feel faint. Finally, after pounding for what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Jekyll let me out. Heavens! I did not realize that I had dropped my sketchpad when I was unceremoniously shoved into the closet. I picked it up before the man could see it (I drew the most horrid picture of him! Oh! I am a terrible human being!). Although, on my way out of the parlor, my skirt snagged on an impossible nail in the wall! Needless to say, I dropped my papers and clumsily tried to free myself. He walked over and picked up the papers, glaring at them, he lit them on fire! Oh! reader, my drawings have been ruined, and I have naught more paper. Dr. Jekyll tried to help me unsnag my skirt, but I simply ripped it in utter embarrassment and ran from the room. Later that night, I was acquainted with the Miss Linton, so very young and beautiful she is. She wanted to show me that chapel, but Alas! it was locked, and of having no way inside, we decided to go near the woods and pick wild roses and seeds for the conservatory. This reader, was not my night. I walked a little further into the woods and tripped over a tree root! Oh! how utterly foolish I am. Miss Linton helped me back to my room. Tonight, after a day of being bedridden, I opened my door to receive a bouquet of wild roses, which I can only assume came from Miss Linton, and though I did not see her tonight, I shall remember to sincerely thank her for the roses at which I am gazing and smelling their sweet fragrance right now. When I came downstairs and entered the parlor, I met another man Dr. Jekyll had warned me about and tried (upon the concern of more hidden dark closets)not to speak to him as much as I could, and if I /must/ speak with him, to be as short spoken as possible. What an odd creature he was too! The first words from his mouth in uttering a greeting to me was "I apologise for my hideous appearance." Granted, he was not the best looking creature in the world, but again, I state, who am I to pass judgement upon others when I myself would not be granted permission to fly with the Angels in the Holyland. Then! Then, reader, the man fainted! I panicked, and again, made a fool of myself by throwing a vase of flowers onto him. Oh!, how I wished to be the size of an insect. When he awoke from his faint, he gave me the most dirtiest of looks! I almost cringed away. I had to inform him that he had fainted, and that if he ever gave me such a face again, I should be obliged to leave the room. Upon hearing this statement, he walks from the room without so much as "Goodbye and Goodnight, Miss Eyre", (For I do not think I should allow such a man to call me Jane). I did not hear from him the rest of the night. I found myself growing tired quite easily tonight, and so retired early to my compartments, which explains reader, why I have taken the time to update you on the happenings in this strange house. Until our next meeting, Jane (Comment on this)
Wednesday, April 26th, 2006
11:09 pm	READER- Tonight, I ventured down into the parlour to see what other residents resided in the manor, be them man or beast, I shall get into the beast later. Upon entering the room, I saw Mr. Heathcliff of last night whom I had seen roaming the halls. I tried to engage him in converesation, but alas! he was otherwise preoccupied. He seems a nice enough gent. Although, his hair could use a wash, but then, I am of no position to remark on the hygenic habits of others, for I myself when I was brought here by some sick twist of fate, was filthy and scraggly. I look forward to conversing more in the future with him, although, I am not sure of what we have in common to make the conversation interesting. I kind maid brought me some tea. I asked her if there was any help needed of me, but "there was none," said she. I was granted her name, Liza, and a genial smile. In truth, I was relieved to have access to the knowledge that I am not the only person of a lower caste in the Manor. It eases my heart greatly. I told her that I have no connexions, exempting, of course, the school where I used to teach young girls. Although, I state again, reminding myself of why I am at this strange place of (hopefully) temporary residence, I wished I could have made it to the post office in Hay to place my advertisement. I should think I would have had a spot of luck in a new job offering. READER- Allow me a moment to dream of the could-have-been-future. Perhaps, I should have found a job with residence in a large Manor, and I could teach a sweet little girl, or perhaps, I should have met some long distant relatives (wishful thinking, I am aware) and found a way to help them, or maybe helping illiterate children somewhere, like farm children, oh! to dream of a useful existance. Enough. Now, I shall educate you on the beast. No doubt, his eyes were handsome, but he hides them with a ghastly mask, covering most of his features. He stared at me for a long while, quite rude, I thought. I wanted to speak with him, try to make friends. I decided that, brash as it may be, and impolite, I would go introduce myself. Well! Never have I been treated so. I was completely ignored for more than a thirty seconds and a minutes, I should think, if I were counting. I tried to ask him of the musical score he was playing, for indeed it was beautiful, and made the soul ache with sorrow, and again, I was brushed off. I must say, offensive though he definitely is, I shall inform you that I am determined, in all sense of the word, to befriend him, and make my presence known to him. We shall be friends, if once upon a time. My candle burns low now, and for fear of the wick snuffing and leaving me in total darkness, I shall part ways with you, for it is late, and I am still weary from my travels. Good night, Jane Eyre (Comment on this)
Friday, April 21st, 2006
9:33 pm	::Enters the house, drenched to the bone:: Hello. My name is Jane, Miss Eyre, if you wish. I have come to seek shelter from the terrible storm raging outside these walls, if you would be obliged to have me. Please forgive my abrupt entrance, but I do not think I could bear any more miles in these tired, worn shoes in this weather. I would be most grateful if you could accomodate me with a room for the night, or until the storm changes its tide. Thank you most kindly, Jane (Comment on this)