"The Necklace"
by guy de maupassant, Continuation. (written 2015-2016)
This story is a continuation of "The Necklace", which is something a little different than what I usually do. You don't have to read the story before reading this, it just might make things a bit clearer.
“What!?” repeated Mme. Mathilde Loisel. This was her third time hearing that the necklace that she had spent ten of her years on was fake. She was sitting at a small little table with her friend Mme. Forestier, the one who had lent it to her.
“But… but, but….. No that can’t be, it just can’t...ten years….it can’t!” Malide burst into uncontrollable tears, spilling than all over the fresh, clean cloth on the table she could never afford to use.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. We can figure something out.” Mme. Forestier replied, not knowing what to do with the stairs of the people sitting near them.
“HOW???? What can I do?” she started to sound desperate, pulling in more and more attention to herself. “Ten years! Ten years I lost to time! Ten!” She paused. Then, in a quieter voice, she said “And my husband…. He lost ten years as well… and he... He…” she gasped sharply, and stood up. “I have to go, now!” she turned around and stared to run, muballing “Oh my poor husband… I must apologize…. Oh, what am I to do?!”
“Who was she, mommy?” said a quiet voice behind Mme. Forestier. She turned her heavy head, sighing, and replied
“She is a friend of mine. We grew a bit distant, after the last party we had without you. I always wondered why. I also wondered why the necklace seemed heavier the next time I went to see it, but at the time I thought I was just getting a bit weary because of you. But I guess not.”
Mme. Loisel arrived at home with an anxious look on her face. She knew that she had to apologise to her husband. Never before had she realized how nice he was to her. How that ten years ago he gave all his money to her, just so that she could buy a dress she would only use once or twice. How he did not have a gun that year, or the year after, or the year after that. How, if he had a gun, he could go shooting with friends, and perhaps bring back a little bit of food. A little bit of food they did not need to pay for. How he went out for a few hours searching for a jewel SHE lost. And how she never noticed how kind he was. But now she knew. After ten years of hard labor she finally saw what she should have seen a long time ago. And she knew what she was going to do about it.
When Mme. Forestier arrived at home, she went straight to her bedroom. She ran up to her closet with a new idea in her head. She came into her closet, panting from the run. She walk slowly to the glass case she had last opened long ago. With trembling hands, she lifted the sleek top to expose the necklace that had caused her friend so much. With delicate fingers, she lifted the diamonds out of their case and started to weep. She wept and wept and wept. When she finally started to calm down, she grabbed her coat, and shoved the necklace into her pocket. She ran out the door and into the dark night.
Mme. Loisel ran down the steps and into the early night. She ran to her husband’s office, for he was back at his old job at the Department of Education. She could feel the humidity wash over her face as she ran. She shivered, but kept going. She was determined to get her husband to tell him the truth, once and for all. To tell him how sorry she was for how she treated him over the years. Sorry that she didn’t have to courage to tell her friend the truth, the truth that could have saved them from the 10 hard years of hard labor. And finally, tell him that somehow, she was going to find a way to get those years back, no matter what she had to go through to get there.
Annalaura walked slowly up the stairs and to her room. She was tired and confused and thought to leave her mother alone, for when they got home she went straight to her room and shut the door behind her. When Anna, as her friends called her, came up, could hear her mother's soft tears rush down her cheeks. She could hear the pains and sorrows of her wails and cries. She could hear her pain through her own door, through the pillow she found useless. She finally gave up trying to block her mother’s mix of sadness and confusion. Her mix of despair and worry. Her near silent signal that she didn’t know what to do. So, the answer for Anna was simple; go to her room and do something quietly. Something that didn’t involve a lot of noise or time, something like drawing or reading to put peace into her mind and relax it. Therefore, she started to write.
Mme. Loisel was running down the road, halfway to the office. She was just passing the train station. She stopped to rest at the closest street lamp. She was drained of her energy, and thirsty. She looked around to see where she was, when she noticed something move. A quick shadow, a silhouette of something near. She was suddenly full of energy again, adrenaline racing through her veins. She could not remember a time when she was more scared than she was now, but then again she couldn’t think much other than what was happening right then. She darted her head around, trying to locate the figure that had moved.
“Oh! I didn’t change out of the clothes I had on before! I can’t run like this, not in heeled shoes! Why can’t anything go right?” Mme. Loisel reflected. Now she was even more frightened for herself. She started to backup but had nowhere to go. The lamp post was right behind her. She heard a noise and on her left and started to sprint to the lamp on her right.
“Get away from whatever is chasing me. Just have to get away.” She said to herself. As she ran, she caught a rock and tripped. She cried out as her knee hit the herd pavement. She shadow seemed to shrink back as the cry reached its ears. Mathilde took this time to quickly jump back on her feet and run. She ran to the next lamp post and put her arms out in front of her to catch her breath. When there was finally air back in her lungs, she screamed.
Mme. Forestier pictured her friend while she ran. She thought of her overworked, weary hands and her fatigued expression. She thought of her small, ragged dress, and her non-existent personality that was once there. She thought of her wailing, not caring that people were staring. She thought of the way she stood up, and started to mumble incomprehensible words. She thought of how she left, running down the street as if she had just realized something very crucial. Like her life depended on it. Mme. Forestier pondered on the subject. She had an idea brewing in her mind, an idea she was sure her friend would agree to. A sharp pain in her hip pulled her from her thoughts. She winced as she looked down to see what was causing the discomfort. She pulled the diamonds out of her pocket and into the dim light from the street lamp. Even in the faint glow, she could see that the necklace had a warm, red liquid dripping down the side by a fine edge. She recoiled in shock, but kept going. She held the precious stones the rest of the way to her destination.
Anna wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. She wrote about fairies and dragons, about the starlight shining down and the ocean’s brilliant sparkle blinding sailors as they pass. She wrote about songs so soft they were mistaken for the passing breeze. She wrote about drawings that were so extraordinary they came to life to follow their creator. She wrote about creatures so enchanting they could enrapture anyone who crossed them. But she also wrote about things like inventions so prior to their time, they took hold of the towns and its people. She wrote about monsters so devastating they would destroy everything they encountered. She wrote about evil beings that were so cruel their hearts had turned to stone. She wrote about prisons and dungeons and oubliettes and cells. She wrote about horrible things that you would never imagine would cross a child's mind. She wrote about wars that lasted decades and brutal murders. She wrote about bloodthirsty deaths and vengeful killings. But even though she was a child, she managed to balance the bad things with the good, the evil and the honorable. She managed to create worlds with a base of beauty and realms so evil, it took your breath away. When little Anna wrote, she wished she could stay in her own mind…. Forever.
Mathilde screamed. She screamed so loud she thought that the other side of the world could hear her. She continued to run, while screaming. Occasionally she would stop at a lamp post to look around to see if the thing was still pursuing her. She was running towards the offices. Every time she would hear a little rustle in the bushes or see a shadow moving, she knew the thing was still on her trail. She finally managed to reach the buildings and run inside. She awaited the figure, hiding next to the door, to see if it would follow. It never did. This frightened Mathilde even more. She dashed up the stairs to the many cubicles. Her husband was hidden in one of them. She just had to find out which one.
Mme. Forestier had finally reached the last road with shops lining both sides. She ran up to the nearest jeweler and pulled out the diamonds. As she walked in the door she rubbed the stones, to get the rest of the blood off. She walked up to the counter trying to catch her breath once again, and to voice her wishes to the man behind the counter. She was speaking indistinguishably, rapidly flashing her hands around to try to follow her mouth.
“Woah, woah, waoh! Slow down, miss!” He reached over the counter and extended out his hands to her shoulders. “Calm down. Breath. You are okay. Calm down.” That seemed to relax her a bit.
“It’s just… I need to…. My friend.. So much time.. All lost….. Please!!!!” She said between breaths.
“Okay, I will help you, I just need to figure out what it is that you need help with. Take a breath, then SLOWLY tell me.” And so Mme. Forestier started from the very beginning, that shuddersome night when Mathilde had come over, asking for some help to prepare for dinner that night.
Anna couldn’t remember what had happened. All she knew was that she wished her father was still with her and her mother. And now, she was suddenly outside, running down the pavement. She didn’t know exactly where she was going, only that her feet where confident in their path. She followed along, not knowing what else to do. She ran for what seemed like hours, out towards the fields that she and her family used to spend days in. When she finally arrived at her apparent destination, she sat down in the tall grass and started to cry. She cried and cried until she thought she had drained her eyes of all their moisture. She had always kept her thoughts to herself, always tried to be strong for her mom. She knew that her father's death had been hard on everyone she knew, especially her mother. She had never seen anyone so heartbroken before. She had been merely four years old when her father had left. She would always read and write and draw to pass time. As the tears passed, she slowly sat up, looking around. She took in her beautiful surroundings, thinking. She thought long and hard, stopping only momentarily at the chirp of a bird or the sound of a distant car honk. The night was full of stars, pulling Anna away from the rest of the world….
Mathilde rushed through the offices doors and past to reception. She ran to the cubicles, collecting stares as she ran. But she didn’t care, her mind was set to do something, and it wasn't going stop until it accomplished its goal. She searched each desk for the man she was seeking for. She was taking in every detail of her newfound surroundings, looking for a clue as to where he was. She was nearly at the end of the row, her eyes tirelessly darting around. He wasn’t in this row. She checked the next. And the next and the next. Finally she made it to the last column, seeking him out. Desk one, desk two, desk three, desk four… she sharply gasped. She jumped at the sight of him. “Ash….” She could barely whisper. She could see the surprise leaking from him into the others around. She ran into his arms. “I am so sorry….. I am so sorry….. Oh Ash….” She just kept repeating over and over into his ear. He was finally able to pry himself away from her. When he looked at her he saw tears dripping from her chin. “I….. I… What is going on? What happened? Why are you here? Not that’s its a bad thing, It's a great thing….” He trailed off, lost in thought and wonder. He stared at her with wide eyes as she wept on his shoulder. He was too shocked to move, so he just stood there his arms out. And there she sobbed, unmoving..
When Mme. Forestier finally finished repeating the story back to the man behind the counter. Robert, he said his name was. Robert. Oh how she was thankful for the Robert. She had come running into the shop, rubbing furiously at a necklace. She hair was falling out of place, strand by strand, completing her look of a madwoman. She didn’t think of it at the time, but now she realized that her side was a darker color, and so was her sleeve, from the dried blood she remembered rubbing off. She didn’t analyze her figure before she left the house, so her eyes must have held the dired rivers of her sorrow. She was so grateful of the man that had been able to calm her, to stop her recklessness. She looked at him now, as she stood there, watching him process the story she just told him. She could see the gears turning in his head, turning, twisting, working, moving. She could see him thinking, see him deciding what to do over her tale of what happened in the last ten years. She could see him remembering back to then. He straightened his character as he prepared to answer her. She could see his mouth moving to form words yet to come. She felt helpless in the moment, hoping, wishing….
Anna looked out at the long grasses, swaying in the starlight. The soft breeze gently pushed her hair back, behind her ears, clearing her view. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free. She had finally escaped reality, finally found a place were she didn’t need to be so mature, didn't need to be so uptight, so formal. She finally found a place where she could drift away, leave this world and leave all her problems. But she couldn’t. She had to get back home, somehow, to help her mother. She shouldn’t have left in the first place. But there was something about the field she now sat in that seemed to keep her pinned to the ground. Something keeping her there, something not wanting her to leave. Wanted to go, to get back home to her worried mother. Oh her mother. “She must be still crying!” Anna thought that she might be able to make it back home in time, but whatever was still holding her, whatever that pull was, it didn’t want her to leave.
“But… but, but….. No that can’t be, it just can’t...ten years….it can’t!” Malide burst into uncontrollable tears, spilling than all over the fresh, clean cloth on the table she could never afford to use.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. We can figure something out.” Mme. Forestier replied, not knowing what to do with the stairs of the people sitting near them.
“HOW???? What can I do?” she started to sound desperate, pulling in more and more attention to herself. “Ten years! Ten years I lost to time! Ten!” She paused. Then, in a quieter voice, she said “And my husband…. He lost ten years as well… and he... He…” she gasped sharply, and stood up. “I have to go, now!” she turned around and stared to run, muballing “Oh my poor husband… I must apologize…. Oh, what am I to do?!”
“Who was she, mommy?” said a quiet voice behind Mme. Forestier. She turned her heavy head, sighing, and replied
“She is a friend of mine. We grew a bit distant, after the last party we had without you. I always wondered why. I also wondered why the necklace seemed heavier the next time I went to see it, but at the time I thought I was just getting a bit weary because of you. But I guess not.”
Mme. Loisel arrived at home with an anxious look on her face. She knew that she had to apologise to her husband. Never before had she realized how nice he was to her. How that ten years ago he gave all his money to her, just so that she could buy a dress she would only use once or twice. How he did not have a gun that year, or the year after, or the year after that. How, if he had a gun, he could go shooting with friends, and perhaps bring back a little bit of food. A little bit of food they did not need to pay for. How he went out for a few hours searching for a jewel SHE lost. And how she never noticed how kind he was. But now she knew. After ten years of hard labor she finally saw what she should have seen a long time ago. And she knew what she was going to do about it.
When Mme. Forestier arrived at home, she went straight to her bedroom. She ran up to her closet with a new idea in her head. She came into her closet, panting from the run. She walk slowly to the glass case she had last opened long ago. With trembling hands, she lifted the sleek top to expose the necklace that had caused her friend so much. With delicate fingers, she lifted the diamonds out of their case and started to weep. She wept and wept and wept. When she finally started to calm down, she grabbed her coat, and shoved the necklace into her pocket. She ran out the door and into the dark night.
Mme. Loisel ran down the steps and into the early night. She ran to her husband’s office, for he was back at his old job at the Department of Education. She could feel the humidity wash over her face as she ran. She shivered, but kept going. She was determined to get her husband to tell him the truth, once and for all. To tell him how sorry she was for how she treated him over the years. Sorry that she didn’t have to courage to tell her friend the truth, the truth that could have saved them from the 10 hard years of hard labor. And finally, tell him that somehow, she was going to find a way to get those years back, no matter what she had to go through to get there.
Annalaura walked slowly up the stairs and to her room. She was tired and confused and thought to leave her mother alone, for when they got home she went straight to her room and shut the door behind her. When Anna, as her friends called her, came up, could hear her mother's soft tears rush down her cheeks. She could hear the pains and sorrows of her wails and cries. She could hear her pain through her own door, through the pillow she found useless. She finally gave up trying to block her mother’s mix of sadness and confusion. Her mix of despair and worry. Her near silent signal that she didn’t know what to do. So, the answer for Anna was simple; go to her room and do something quietly. Something that didn’t involve a lot of noise or time, something like drawing or reading to put peace into her mind and relax it. Therefore, she started to write.
Mme. Loisel was running down the road, halfway to the office. She was just passing the train station. She stopped to rest at the closest street lamp. She was drained of her energy, and thirsty. She looked around to see where she was, when she noticed something move. A quick shadow, a silhouette of something near. She was suddenly full of energy again, adrenaline racing through her veins. She could not remember a time when she was more scared than she was now, but then again she couldn’t think much other than what was happening right then. She darted her head around, trying to locate the figure that had moved.
“Oh! I didn’t change out of the clothes I had on before! I can’t run like this, not in heeled shoes! Why can’t anything go right?” Mme. Loisel reflected. Now she was even more frightened for herself. She started to backup but had nowhere to go. The lamp post was right behind her. She heard a noise and on her left and started to sprint to the lamp on her right.
“Get away from whatever is chasing me. Just have to get away.” She said to herself. As she ran, she caught a rock and tripped. She cried out as her knee hit the herd pavement. She shadow seemed to shrink back as the cry reached its ears. Mathilde took this time to quickly jump back on her feet and run. She ran to the next lamp post and put her arms out in front of her to catch her breath. When there was finally air back in her lungs, she screamed.
Mme. Forestier pictured her friend while she ran. She thought of her overworked, weary hands and her fatigued expression. She thought of her small, ragged dress, and her non-existent personality that was once there. She thought of her wailing, not caring that people were staring. She thought of the way she stood up, and started to mumble incomprehensible words. She thought of how she left, running down the street as if she had just realized something very crucial. Like her life depended on it. Mme. Forestier pondered on the subject. She had an idea brewing in her mind, an idea she was sure her friend would agree to. A sharp pain in her hip pulled her from her thoughts. She winced as she looked down to see what was causing the discomfort. She pulled the diamonds out of her pocket and into the dim light from the street lamp. Even in the faint glow, she could see that the necklace had a warm, red liquid dripping down the side by a fine edge. She recoiled in shock, but kept going. She held the precious stones the rest of the way to her destination.
Anna wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. She wrote about fairies and dragons, about the starlight shining down and the ocean’s brilliant sparkle blinding sailors as they pass. She wrote about songs so soft they were mistaken for the passing breeze. She wrote about drawings that were so extraordinary they came to life to follow their creator. She wrote about creatures so enchanting they could enrapture anyone who crossed them. But she also wrote about things like inventions so prior to their time, they took hold of the towns and its people. She wrote about monsters so devastating they would destroy everything they encountered. She wrote about evil beings that were so cruel their hearts had turned to stone. She wrote about prisons and dungeons and oubliettes and cells. She wrote about horrible things that you would never imagine would cross a child's mind. She wrote about wars that lasted decades and brutal murders. She wrote about bloodthirsty deaths and vengeful killings. But even though she was a child, she managed to balance the bad things with the good, the evil and the honorable. She managed to create worlds with a base of beauty and realms so evil, it took your breath away. When little Anna wrote, she wished she could stay in her own mind…. Forever.
Mathilde screamed. She screamed so loud she thought that the other side of the world could hear her. She continued to run, while screaming. Occasionally she would stop at a lamp post to look around to see if the thing was still pursuing her. She was running towards the offices. Every time she would hear a little rustle in the bushes or see a shadow moving, she knew the thing was still on her trail. She finally managed to reach the buildings and run inside. She awaited the figure, hiding next to the door, to see if it would follow. It never did. This frightened Mathilde even more. She dashed up the stairs to the many cubicles. Her husband was hidden in one of them. She just had to find out which one.
Mme. Forestier had finally reached the last road with shops lining both sides. She ran up to the nearest jeweler and pulled out the diamonds. As she walked in the door she rubbed the stones, to get the rest of the blood off. She walked up to the counter trying to catch her breath once again, and to voice her wishes to the man behind the counter. She was speaking indistinguishably, rapidly flashing her hands around to try to follow her mouth.
“Woah, woah, waoh! Slow down, miss!” He reached over the counter and extended out his hands to her shoulders. “Calm down. Breath. You are okay. Calm down.” That seemed to relax her a bit.
“It’s just… I need to…. My friend.. So much time.. All lost….. Please!!!!” She said between breaths.
“Okay, I will help you, I just need to figure out what it is that you need help with. Take a breath, then SLOWLY tell me.” And so Mme. Forestier started from the very beginning, that shuddersome night when Mathilde had come over, asking for some help to prepare for dinner that night.
Anna couldn’t remember what had happened. All she knew was that she wished her father was still with her and her mother. And now, she was suddenly outside, running down the pavement. She didn’t know exactly where she was going, only that her feet where confident in their path. She followed along, not knowing what else to do. She ran for what seemed like hours, out towards the fields that she and her family used to spend days in. When she finally arrived at her apparent destination, she sat down in the tall grass and started to cry. She cried and cried until she thought she had drained her eyes of all their moisture. She had always kept her thoughts to herself, always tried to be strong for her mom. She knew that her father's death had been hard on everyone she knew, especially her mother. She had never seen anyone so heartbroken before. She had been merely four years old when her father had left. She would always read and write and draw to pass time. As the tears passed, she slowly sat up, looking around. She took in her beautiful surroundings, thinking. She thought long and hard, stopping only momentarily at the chirp of a bird or the sound of a distant car honk. The night was full of stars, pulling Anna away from the rest of the world….
Mathilde rushed through the offices doors and past to reception. She ran to the cubicles, collecting stares as she ran. But she didn’t care, her mind was set to do something, and it wasn't going stop until it accomplished its goal. She searched each desk for the man she was seeking for. She was taking in every detail of her newfound surroundings, looking for a clue as to where he was. She was nearly at the end of the row, her eyes tirelessly darting around. He wasn’t in this row. She checked the next. And the next and the next. Finally she made it to the last column, seeking him out. Desk one, desk two, desk three, desk four… she sharply gasped. She jumped at the sight of him. “Ash….” She could barely whisper. She could see the surprise leaking from him into the others around. She ran into his arms. “I am so sorry….. I am so sorry….. Oh Ash….” She just kept repeating over and over into his ear. He was finally able to pry himself away from her. When he looked at her he saw tears dripping from her chin. “I….. I… What is going on? What happened? Why are you here? Not that’s its a bad thing, It's a great thing….” He trailed off, lost in thought and wonder. He stared at her with wide eyes as she wept on his shoulder. He was too shocked to move, so he just stood there his arms out. And there she sobbed, unmoving..
When Mme. Forestier finally finished repeating the story back to the man behind the counter. Robert, he said his name was. Robert. Oh how she was thankful for the Robert. She had come running into the shop, rubbing furiously at a necklace. She hair was falling out of place, strand by strand, completing her look of a madwoman. She didn’t think of it at the time, but now she realized that her side was a darker color, and so was her sleeve, from the dried blood she remembered rubbing off. She didn’t analyze her figure before she left the house, so her eyes must have held the dired rivers of her sorrow. She was so grateful of the man that had been able to calm her, to stop her recklessness. She looked at him now, as she stood there, watching him process the story she just told him. She could see the gears turning in his head, turning, twisting, working, moving. She could see him thinking, see him deciding what to do over her tale of what happened in the last ten years. She could see him remembering back to then. He straightened his character as he prepared to answer her. She could see his mouth moving to form words yet to come. She felt helpless in the moment, hoping, wishing….
Anna looked out at the long grasses, swaying in the starlight. The soft breeze gently pushed her hair back, behind her ears, clearing her view. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free. She had finally escaped reality, finally found a place were she didn’t need to be so mature, didn't need to be so uptight, so formal. She finally found a place where she could drift away, leave this world and leave all her problems. But she couldn’t. She had to get back home, somehow, to help her mother. She shouldn’t have left in the first place. But there was something about the field she now sat in that seemed to keep her pinned to the ground. Something keeping her there, something not wanting her to leave. Wanted to go, to get back home to her worried mother. Oh her mother. “She must be still crying!” Anna thought that she might be able to make it back home in time, but whatever was still holding her, whatever that pull was, it didn’t want her to leave.