English Language-Writing a Narrative

English Language; Writing a Narrative

Part one: Nancy the maid.
As the sun rose over the ‘Black quarter’ of the town, its inhabitants awoke to yet another gun shot. You couldn’t walk around Down Town without either seeing somebody walking around with a gun, or someone who has tragically lost a family member. Soon everybody would have lost at least one member of their immediate family dead. Gone. All due to the colour of their skin.
As I cross the railway line, on my way to Miss Nicole’s house. I seen a group of innocent white children who came up showing off their new toys to their mothers frustration: “Step away from that Nigger woman. Now!” she shouted to her children like they’ve sinned. I replied:
“Sweet children go to your dear mother.”
I remember when I first started being a maid; I used to get really frustrated at this as our lord ‘aint gonna’ judge you, as a heart is neither black nor white. As a maid I spent all my working life bringing their kids up for them whilst they play Bridge and what do we get? Three dollars a week, for thirteen hour days, seven days a week.
I foolishly though that Miss Nicole wasn’t like that woman in the street, and that she would raise little Holly properly when I’m gone.

Part two: Miss Nicole
Every day was the same for Miss Nicole; she would awake to Breakfast cooked my Nancy. As Miss Nicole leisurely ate her breakfast Nancy would be attending to all little Hollies needs whilst she laid out Miss Nicole’s clothes on the bed. To every Nigro she was a typical employer, who expects the world for nothing.
Nancy was in the Nursery playing ‘Peek-a-boo’ with the baby when Miss Nicole came raging in:
“Nancy why on god’s dam Earth did you but the blue pinafore on my bed? You know that I only were white on Tuesday.”
“Sorry miss.” replied Nancy, as she continued to play with Holly, but Miss Nicole just stood over