Re-write of Wide Sargasso Sea

Hi, all

Finally, I have finished my re-write of Wide Sargasso Sea by giving it a new ending. I believe that is a fair ending. I wish you will enjoy reading it.

===============

The year was 1874 and there, in India, I woke up one autumn morning, gazed into the mirror and saw grey hair invaded my scalp and shooting in every direction on my head. "Don’t feel sorry, you got what you wanted" an inner deep voice tried to clear up my feeling of going to growing old soon. "Yes I have infinite money but still I have not met the wife of my dreams and I have no children to take over this money" an internal answer came. I, too, felt torn between a grin and sadness and one question stuck into my mind. Why I keep myself away from England for so many years?

Again my inner voice cautiously answered, "Possibly the wealth I gained when I married Antoinette, and then the more wealth I got when my father and my brother died made me greedier and gave me enough motivation to run around the world hunting more money, or perhaps it was my deep desire to forget everything that brought the bad memory of her into my mind".

Yes, it was long time; twenty five years had passed since I locked her away and left England. Thirteen years of my leaving, a letter I received from Mrs. Eff told me, "Antoinette set the house alight and killed herself". At first, a feeling of happiness came over me; "Yes it is true now, she was just a bad memory or even a lie". But, the feeling of guilt hit me soon after that, "Guilt about what", I asked myself. Hurriedly I tore up the letter and had a strong drink which helped me to have a deep sleep.

During these long years, I toured the world and used every chance to strengthen my fortune. I stayed in a number of British colonies and invested my money in mining and in trading of both goods and people.

In India, where I mostly stayed, I became a treasure hunter; I searched in old places and in the ground where local people believed that there were buried treasures. I found many precious and valuable objects from their ancient civilisation: paintings, books, jewels, precious stones and old money as well. I sold my findings to British traders for a lot of money. I had many workers; they were local people and willing to work with me for a small amount, sometimes for just a meal. They dug the ground, searched the old places and collected a lot of helpful information to guide us. Also, in Nigeria I played a major role in the oil and ivory trade. Also, in that busy life I never forget to enjoy myself, so I experienced many love affairs with many women, but I could not find any reason to make any of them my wife.

After twenty five years of being away, I tied up my business and headed to England holding an intention to hastily get married and have a son. Before long I bought a grand house in Yorkshire, one of the most beautiful spots in England. There was a marvellous park around the house and beyond the park there were a few other houses. I decided to buy in this area because I wanted to have a peaceful time with a wife that I really love and who could bring happiness to my heart. "Now I have so much money, so I have no valid reason to marry a woman I don’t like," I told myself.

Just two days after getting in my house I heard a knock on my door, Mrs. Nelly Dean, the housekeeper, opened the door and called me. "Sir there is a young man called Mr. John Reed, wants to talk to you". "Good afternoon, Mr. Rochester, I am John, a son of Mr. George Reed, your neighbour. You don’t know about us, but we know a much about you as one of the most prolific businessman in the country". Then he invited me to join a family dinner the following day consisting of his father, step-mother and his sister Jean.

The dinner was a very intimate gathering and before we all retired to the dining room we enjoyed a lovely wine and cheese reception, where I felt very comfortable right away. I had a great time; one I’ll remember for a very long time – because this also was the very first time I met with Jean. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and at once I noticed that she was totally different to the women I used to be with. She talks like she knows what she's doing, she walks like no other girl I've seen and she has the body of angel. I don’t know if I was drawn to her at once because of her smile and laugh or because of the challenge of her eyes.

She was the daughter of British parents who came from traditional cotton traders’ families. Her mother died when she was about four years of age and her brother was about six. Three or four years after the death of her mother, the father married again, but this marriage was resented by Jean and her brother John. They hated their step-mother and hardly ever talked to her as she was strict with them. But the father was very happy with his new wife and soon started to blame his children for everything that went wrong which made both Jean and John hate living in the family house. When John reached eighteen the father wanted him to join him in his business and help him. In fact John was happy because his main work was to travel to India where the raw cotton was growing, seeking the finest cotton at the cheapest price.

After the dinner we drank gin and lime, an Englishman’s drink. John asked me a few questions about India. I wasn’t very interested in talking about India as I was busy glancing furtively at Jean. When my eyes met hers, her face turned beet red and she was trying to avoid my eyes.

The wind started to pick up, pushing against the windows and started it to rain, so I said "I better to go home and thank you for your lovely invitation". "You’re welcome." Mr. and Mrs Reed answered. Then John asked: "Well, then, how are you going to get your home?", "I can walk; it’s just three minutes away", I answered. Then Jean went into other room, grabbed a clear umbrella and came back in the room. She gave it to me with a stunning smile. I smiled back at her and opened up the umbrella as I stepped off the porch steps, walking out into the misty rain.

That night, I felt like I had never been so alive, finally my heart had found what it was looking for so long and I met the love of my life.

At first I tried my best to strengthen my friendship with Reed family, so as to be able to see her and talk to her every day. Many times we talked to each other, as she was very interested to know everything about my adventures abroad. A few months later, I felt she had become very comfortable around me, especially when John was in India. Also I became madly in love with her and eager to marry her. So one day as I was leaving their house I whispered in her ear, “Will you marry me, Jane” She did not say anything.

Although she had just turned twenty and I was in my early fifties, I didn’t have any doubts about asking for her hand in marriage as I felt I deserved such a girl to finally give my life a taste of happiness. I didn’t see anything wrong with the age difference. I thought after all, we two are adults. Unusually however, a feeling of discomfort was getting at me; something inside me was feeling guilty about the idea of marring a girl who could be the age of my daughter. But then I thought when it comes to love, age is nothing but a number. I was truly in love with her, and I thought my marriage with her would be a blissful journey and a bed of roses nothing else.

The next day while I was playing cards with her father, she came to give me a glass of drink she bent and whispered in my ear "yes".

It took us just a month to arrange for a big wedding with many top class people attended it. We were married in a beautiful wedding chapel and then we had the loveliest reception. I thought it was my most amazing day with the most amazing woman. Everything was perfect but one thing that bothered me. A young man kept looking at Jane all the time and when the time came for everyone to congratulate us, he stepped forward us, gave a bad smile and sarcastically told Jean, “I am very sorry about you Madam”. Later on I asked her, "Who was that young man". She said, "He is my stepmother’s nephew". I learnt later from John that he was a young doctor and wanted to marry Jean, but she refused him because he was a relative of her stepmother.

The first few days of our marriage were as blissful as a beautiful paradise as we have joined together with great understanding and attraction. We spent the entire week celebrating our marriage. It was definitely the best week of my life so far. But as the days roll to months, and months to nearly three years of marriage we both started to lose the passion for each other, especially when I got bored of waiting for signs of her bearing children or hearing her telling me "I am pregnant". But that dream never came true.

I began to feel that she was different from me in everything, in moral values, in seemingly minor things such as tastes in music, reading, or entertainment. I didn’t stop criticizing her! There was non-stop bickering and complaining. Whatever she did was always wrong and no matter how hard she tried, it was never good enough. The age gap between us started to mean many differences in understanding and opinions emerged. Those differences eventually caused me to be unable to relate to her and led me on different path.

For me, life was near the end and an accomplished journey, whereas she wanted to explore all that she could. So, I lost interest in her but never lost trust, since women were always expected to uphold the sanctity of the family. Despite her attractiveness I began to think of others and I found myself forced to cheat on her with other women. I began to be away from home frequently. I thought there was no wrong in that as long as I was reasonably discreet.

Jean never showed dissatisfaction about my frequent absences from home or even about my absent-mindedness when home because she was scared of me. I was in control, I was dominant. I liked to be in control of another. We became like two strangers living under the same roof, and the life between us continued like this for about two years until something happened last summer that changed all our lives for ever.

Mr. and Mrs. Reed celebrated John’s wedding in their garden to a girl just one year younger than him. They had a group of nearly fifty people, including that young doctor. When he saw us coming in he stepped forward and greeted us, I noticed him look at Jean and smile few times and I guessed she also looked and smiled back.

That night Jean looked not only beautiful but a charming, warm and sensual woman. Of all the women who were present, there was no one more fascinating than her. Almost everyone expressed how beautiful she was and how so angelic she appeared in her off-white dress. I felt so happy, the happiest, I still have her and how in love with her I was. I look back and saw how wrong that I was, I had kept in touch with what I thought was true love, and was even more sorry that I left her unhappy and lonely for uncounted days and nights. That night I felt that she was truly a blessed angel and I wished my life with her to last forever and not end because of my stupid mistake.

When we first arrived home, I touched her arm and looked deep into her eyes; I felt my heart would melt. I told her "Jean you are my real treasure, you are the center of my life, I love you so much". With a dramatic toss of her hair, she pulled away and made herself distant. I could tell that night I realized she hated me more than I could imagine. I knew that I hadn’t been a good husband, but my reaction to her distance wasn’t great. It was just more neglecting her being.

Few weeks later, I left the house as I used to every Friday evening to have a card night with some friends. We used to combine playing with drinking and smoking. The games usually ended up going deep into the night. But that Friday, I realized that I was too tired to play cards. I excused myself and headed home very early.

That night, our last night together, I walked into the house, it was dark. The candles were burnt out and I was too tired to light new ones, so I carried on upstairs in complete blackness. Then I saw a dim light and heard voices from our bedroom. My footsteps seemed to echo throughout the entire house, framing my sudden unease with a growing sense of suspicion; I stepped quickly and peeked into our room. And what I saw caused my heart to nearly stop. I found Jean in the bed with him, that young doctor.

I stood, frozen and could hardly believe what my eyes showed me, I must say it was the most painful experience I have ever had to deal with in my life. He fearfully got up and tried to leave but I blocked the door, then with all his strength he pushed me aside. I easily fell to the floor on my side; he mockingly laughed at me and said I am very sorry about you Mr. Rochester. He left closing the door after him leaving us behind him to meet our inescapable fate.

She stood up at the other end of the room, got as far away as she could, and tried to hide herself. In just a few seconds I regained my strength and got to my feet, they were crumbling, but I managed to get to her and said, "Why? Why Jean? This is not you." She was very terrified, she said "Yes it is me, I am not a piece of old furniture in your house, or something that's functional and comfortable, but holds no special connection or affection". She accused me of being mean and making her unhappy… lonely and miserable. And she asked me to let her leave.

I lashed out in anger at her and pulled her by her hair. She stared screaming now! Everyone in the house heard the screams and came running up to see what was going on. I started to hit her again and again, kicked her, hit her again and then I strangled her with my bare hands, my claw-like nails digging into the soft flesh of her young neck. I stood there, breathing heavily, looking over the beautiful mess of her corpse that was once so pretty and young. I sat down, trying to find my Jean. She was gone. I felt incredibly guilty for what I did and then I shouted, “I killed her, I killed Antoinette, I drove her mad”. I felt that I should move, but I didn’t. “I want to die, I want to die” I screamed and screamed. My time had come to pass, and I was just one man. No one man has the power to evade his destiny.

As for me, I am still currently in the mental hospital. After my arrest, I confessed to both the murders, Antoinette and Jean. In this room I wake early and lie shivering for it is very cold. I get out of bed and wonder why I have been brought here. Despite my plea for execution I was confined for life in a hospital for the criminally insane or something like that. And there we are. I am a mad man, driven mad by the woman who turned him into the mad killer, that I became, who is doing time for our crimes and our insanity.

When night comes, I hear their footsteps. They all come together, my father, Antoinette and Jean. They start whispering in my ears, each one pushes me against the others, I start asking them to leave me alone, to leave me to my destiny, but they push and push, whisper and laugh. I start screaming and screaming until theses two big guys with white clothes come and inject me with something make me faint, they carry me and throw me into my bed.

I spent all of my life looking for happiness, my father taught me that money bring happiness. He was not able to give me some of his money; but showed me the way to get my own. Now and very late I found that happiness, unlike pleasure, comes only from being fully human and being virtuous, or more simply, by being a good human being, a really human, human being, and only the fully human, human being can love. But I was not a good human being, or not a human. I was not able to love Antoinette and I don’t think I loved Jane. Antoinette gave me her money, which gave me some pleasure, and with the money I got Jane, who gave me momentary pleasure but, never got happiness.