Story of an Hour--Josephine

Topics: Worry, Anxiety, Crying Pages: 2 (672 words) Published: November 10, 2013
I could not believe my ears when I received the news of his death. As Richard told me of the horrifying event, I knew that I would be the one to break it to my poor sister. With her heart condition, I had to make sure I explain her husband’s death in just the right way. In the most calming way I could tell her, I explained to her how there was a railroad disaster, and Brently was on the list of “killed.” She did not take it very well, at first she was frozen; I knew that she was trying to convince herself that it was not real. Very quickly after she fell into my arms and began weeping uncontrollably. This lasted for a little while, then she went away to her room, by herself, with no one following her. I stayed downstairs, worrying about my poor sister. She had just received the news of her husband’s death, and is now locked in her room. I can only imagine the amount of grief running through her at this moment. He was a wonderful husband who treated her well. He never laid a hand on her, and gave her the respect she deserved What is she going to do now? She has no job, as she is a housewife. I am primarily worried about how she will survive with no source of income. Surely she does not expect us to take care of her financial problems. With her heart condition she will probably not be able to find work, so she may have to move to a more affordable place. I started weeping a bit as I thought about the time my sister is going through right now. Although this is a sad moment, I am glad that I gave her the news rather than a stranger. Most likely, they would have told her the wrong way and I could have lost her as well.

I walked up the stairs to check on her, as she has been up there for a while. I leaned down to the keyhold and pressed my lips to it. “Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door—you will make yourself ill. What are you doing Louise? For heaven’s sake open the door.” She immediately responded to my pleas with “ Go away. I am not making myself...
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