Rochester's Account in Jane Eyre
Write Rochester’s account of his relationship with Jane Eyre after Jane rescues Rochester from the fire in his bedroom. You should aim to create an authentic voice for Rochester which builds upon Charlotte Bronte’s presentation of his character and captures aspects of the writer’s chosen form, structure and language.
Jane, as I first assumed was a simple being, of no extraordinary background or upbringing. But, reader, she had saved me from certain death. It seemed nothing but a normal evening, until I was awoken by a blurred, shadowed figure, I felt an incredible temperature upon my face, perhaps I had a fever, whether this figure was recognisable to my mind or not I do not know, nor could I make it out. I could just discern a muffled voice, it was slowly becoming clearer to me as my eyelids rose; as though they were the sun rising slowly over the moors on a bitterly cold winter’s morning. ‘Wake! Wake!’ it exclaimed as they were desperately attempting to wake me; I was being shaken, the vision of an ancient sea faring vessel, crashing, bashing and rolling off the icy blue barriers before it. The blurry image of a traumatised face slowly defined before me as my frosted vision slowly appeared, it is that of Miss Eyre! Surrounded by smoke, it bellowed across the room, covering her figure as she continued to attempt to wake me; she then ran out of the room for what felt like a lifetime. Again, my eyes closed. The next thing I remembered damp hit my face, I felt the cold water disperse across my face and onto my surroundings had it been raining? Am I outdoors? And with that as well as the smash of a glass object awoke me, I felt a rush as I sat up. A mass of steam obscured my vision and again I lost vision of the room.
‘Is there a flood?’ I cried to which she had replied there was a fire, was this possibly an act of sabotage upon my life? I remember calling Jane rather insulting names such as ‘Witch’ and ‘Sorceress’ which she just simply ignored. She expressed
Jane, as I first assumed was a simple being, of no extraordinary background or upbringing. But, reader, she had saved me from certain death. It seemed nothing but a normal evening, until I was awoken by a blurred, shadowed figure, I felt an incredible temperature upon my face, perhaps I had a fever, whether this figure was recognisable to my mind or not I do not know, nor could I make it out. I could just discern a muffled voice, it was slowly becoming clearer to me as my eyelids rose; as though they were the sun rising slowly over the moors on a bitterly cold winter’s morning. ‘Wake! Wake!’ it exclaimed as they were desperately attempting to wake me; I was being shaken, the vision of an ancient sea faring vessel, crashing, bashing and rolling off the icy blue barriers before it. The blurry image of a traumatised face slowly defined before me as my frosted vision slowly appeared, it is that of Miss Eyre! Surrounded by smoke, it bellowed across the room, covering her figure as she continued to attempt to wake me; she then ran out of the room for what felt like a lifetime. Again, my eyes closed. The next thing I remembered damp hit my face, I felt the cold water disperse across my face and onto my surroundings had it been raining? Am I outdoors? And with that as well as the smash of a glass object awoke me, I felt a rush as I sat up. A mass of steam obscured my vision and again I lost vision of the room.
‘Is there a flood?’ I cried to which she had replied there was a fire, was this possibly an act of sabotage upon my life? I remember calling Jane rather insulting names such as ‘Witch’ and ‘Sorceress’ which she just simply ignored. She expressed