Motives for English Imperialism - 1916 Words

C132 Survey of United States History Griselda Brower Task 1 A. Motives for English Imperialism Empires seek various prompts to help them expand their rule to other countries and territories. Amongst these motives include, economic gain, exploratory, political, religious and ethnocentric motives. Due to the large importation of American crops, England’s population doubled in size. With all the new people migrating to England, people started to compete for food, clothing and housing. This led to inflation of England. The increase number of people looking for works caused a decreased in wages. When landowners raised rents and seizing land, people were forced to leave their homes. Residents were forced to share smallholdings with†¦show more content†¦In 1533, Henry VIII became obsessed with Anne Boleyn. Henry VIII asked the pope to annul his almost 20 year marriage to Catherine de Aragon. When the pope refused, Henry VIII founded his own church. He named is Church of England and he proclaim himself to be the head of the new founded church. People started to move to America where they wanted freedom of religion (Khle, 2009). In the mid-sixteen century, John Hawkins and Sir Francis Drake raided a fleet of Spanish treasure that was sailing from the Caribbean. Their actions helped influence a war in 1558, where it assisted I n the defeat of a huge Spanish force. After the defeat of the Spanish force, English leader start to consider planting colonies in the Western Hemisphere. They argued that this would be a better way to gain better access to trade good and helped prevent their enemies from dominating in America. Eventually, the Western Hemisphere was controlled by the European Countries. European government took no time in controlling plants, food, landscaping and clothing. After the European government obtained almost all of the political power over 50,000 people fled to America, in hopes of better opportunities (Khle, 2009). C. Major Ideas and Events that Led to the American Revolution The American Revolutionary war The American Revolutionary War started in 1977. It began because of an open conflict between the thirteen colonies and Great Britain. TheShow MoreRelatedImperialism of India by Britain Essay571 Words   |  3 PagesImperialism is the domination of one country of the political, economic, or cultural life of another country. Imperialism is more often than not fueled by two major schools of thought known as nationalism and Social Darwinism. Nationalism is a feeling of pride and devotion to one’s country. This can drive a person to think that their country is the most powerful, and in essence drives that person mad with power and a hunger to conquer, which not ironically is exactly what many countries did. 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The Big Disconnect Protecting Childhood And Family...

The Big Disconnect: Protecting Childhood and Family Relationships in the Digital Age Critical Book Review by Amanda Seeley Steiner-Adair, C. (2013). The big disconnect: Protecting childhood and family relationships in the digital age. New York: Harper. In The Big Disconnect, Steiner-Adair strives to provide readers with the current reality of the 21st century when it comes to the access and use of technology. The reality is screens of all kinds are taking up a large part of life for everyone, even young babies and toddlers. Steiner-Adair feels this addiction and connection to technology is leaving a lasting impact on the disconnect families and children are experiencing. This disconnect exists because children and adults are spending more time staring at a screen rather than interacting with one another. 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Thorn Queen Chapter Twenty-Two Free Essays

string(64) " Why was I thinking so slowly\? A great warrior and magic user\." I woke up with a headache even worse than the one I’d gotten shooting tequila on the night of Luisa’s birth. Pain thudded to a steady drumbeat in my head, though at the same time, my senses felt foggy as a boring plaster ceiling slowly came into focus above me. Nausea welled up in my stomach, and I worried I was going to get sick. We will write a custom essay sample on Thorn Queen Chapter Twenty-Two or any similar topic only for you Order Now It had happened the last time I’d come crashing through the worlds. And speaking of the worlds†¦where was I? Easy enough to figure out, my groggy brain quickly realized. I’d been pulled out from the Otherworld, which meant I could either have been sent to the Underworld or the human world. The fact that I was still alive indicated I’d gone onto the latter. Why on earth would Abigail summon me to-fuck. There it was: the nausea again. I bit my lip and tried to sit up, not wanting to choke on my own vomit. Only, when I tried to rise, I didn’t get very far. My hands were stretched above my head, tied to the headboard of the bed I lay on. No, not tied-cuffed. Cuffed with heavy steel, industrial-strength handcuffs. Bound or no, I did manage some semblance of sitting, just as my stomach betrayed me. A bowl got shoved under my face right at that moment, and I was grateful to spare the bedding and my clothes. I threw up twice before my benefactor gently asked, â€Å"Any more?† â€Å"I don’t think so.† I squinted up and found myself looking into the face of a young girl, heavily freckled and brown-haired, with a nose a bit too small for the rest of her facial features. She was still cute enough, though, and-she was a gentry. For a moment, I wondered if I’d gotten confused about the banishment. Was I still in the Otherworld? No. This was definitely the human world. I could sense it. There was a way that magic hung in the air-or, rather, didn’t hang in the air around here. The girl took the bowl away and returned with a damp cloth. She wiped my face with it and then my mouth. A moment later, she returned with a glass of water, which I drank gratefully. All of her movements were gentle and graceful. â€Å"What’s your name?† I asked. â€Å"Cariena.† â€Å"That’s really pretty. Where am I, Cariena?† I asked, tugging at the handcuffs. Those things weren’t going to budge. The girl sat down on a chair in the corner. â€Å"In the world of the humans.† â€Å"I know that.† I tried hard not to let my tone get harsh. My leather from the fight was gone; I wore a T-shirt and underwear. â€Å"But where? What is this place?† She glanced around, as though the room might offer some secret insight. The walls were painted pale gray and matched the bedspread, a pattern of purple and grayish blue flowers. There was a small dresser in the corner, along with her chair, as well as the narrow twin bed I lay in. There wasn’t a lot of space here-and no windows at all. â€Å"The Red Snake Man’s house.† â€Å"The Red Snake-son of a bitch. Art.† My mind was still fuzzy, and I had a hard time grasping all the details of what had happened. I remembered bits and pieces of the fight. I remembered chasing the soldier and then Abigail banishing me†¦ But it was all still disjointed, and I had no recollection of how I’d gotten here. It was possible that was simply from the trauma of tearing through the worlds. Someone could have smacked me upside the head too, but the pain throbbing in my skull wasn’t that type. As I’d noted earlier, it was more like the hangover type. Only worse. â€Å"Where is he now?† I asked. Cariena shook her head. â€Å"I don’t know. He doesn’t explain his activities to us.† â€Å"Us? Are there†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Again, my addled brain tried to remember what I already knew. Why couldn’t I line up my thoughts? It was like I had both the buzz and the hangover from drinking, all wrapped up into one. Us. Art. Red Snake Man. â€Å"Are there†¦others like you here? Other girls?† She nodded. â€Å"How many?† â€Å"Five-no, four. They took Fara yesterday. Isanna’s next.† â€Å"They who?† â€Å"One of the men. They come sometimes. They look at us. Sometimes they just†¦Ã¢â‚¬  She looked away, unwilling to meet my eyes. â€Å"Sometimes they just†¦visit. But sometimes they make a deal with the Red Snake Man to take one of us.† â€Å"Art,† I murmured. â€Å"His name is Art. Red Snake Man seems to give him some semblance of respect.† I started to rub my eyes and then realized I couldn’t with the cuffs. â€Å"Are the other girls chained up too?† â€Å"Only the ones who resist.† â€Å"Well, yeah, I guess that would include me. I take it you’re not one?† â€Å"Not anymore.† â€Å"Why don’t you leave? You must have some magic†¦even a little.† Cariena held up her hands. She didn’t have handcuffs like me, but snug iron bracelets hugged each wrist, each with a tiny lock. The skin was red and swollen where the iron touched. â€Å"Jesus†¦so you’re blocked from your magic. But, I mean, can’t you just walk out the door?† â€Å"There’s iron†¦iron everywhere. The windows, the doors. They’re all bound with iron and spells. And locks. Besides†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Her blue eyes widened slightly. â€Å"I don’t know where I would go†¦not in this world†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Home,† I said fiercely. â€Å"You’ll go home. I’ll take you there.† She shook her head, face sad. â€Å"There’s no escape from here. Not even for you.† I eyed her curiously. â€Å"Do you know who I am?† â€Å"You are the Thorn Queen. Storm King’s daughter. You are my sovereign.† She gave a deferential nod of respect. â€Å"And I know you are a great warrior and magic user. But if the Red Snake Man caught even you, then there’s no hope for any of us. Moria tried to escape, and she died out there.† â€Å"Moria did escape. She didn’t die, and-† I stopped. Why was my brain such mush? Why was I thinking so slowly? A great warrior and magic user. You read "Thorn Queen Chapter Twenty-Two" in category "Essay examples" I didn’t need my hands to get out of here. I had my magic. The iron and steel that stunted Cariena’s magic had hardly any effect on me, and I would have had enough time by now to rebuild my stores of power. I reached into myself and then to the world around, seeking water and air, though not certain what I’d do with them. Blow the headboard apart? Oxidize the handcuffs? The decision turned out not to matter. Nothing happened. I felt nothing. I felt†¦well, human. I felt as I had for years, long before I’d had any clue I could touch any sort of Otherworldly magic. I was cut off. My mind touched only empty space. â€Å"What’s wrong with me?† I asked, true panic starting to unravel in me. â€Å"My magic’s gone. The steel shouldn’t affect me†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"It’s not the steel,† a voice suddenly said. â€Å"It’s the nightshade. And I think you’re overdue.† Art strolled into the room, looking as dashing as ever with his tanned skin and movie-star smile. I had nothing but contempt for him and instinctually tried to break the cuffs. Nightshade†¦nightshade. Where had I heard that before? Rurik, I realized. He’d advised something called a tincture of nightshade to completely cut off Jasmine from her magic. Was that what I’d been given? He’d said it was the most effective†¦but that it made those with human blood feel dazed and sick. All of a sudden, I knew this fuzzy hangover feeling didn’t have anything to do with me being banished. There was no real purpose in discussing nightshade with Art, so I got right to the point. â€Å"I’m going to kill you.† Art laughed that hearty, deep laugh I’d once found endearing. â€Å"Forgive me if I’m not scared.† He turned to Cariena. â€Å"Go get some more nightshade for Eugenie. And make sure Isanna is dressed and ready to go when Abigail returns.† Cariena was practically out of the room before he finished speaking. â€Å"I can’t believe it,† I said. â€Å"It’s really true. When I first started putting together this fairy sex-trade theory, I thought it was as crazy as Roland thought it was. But it’s really true. Where’s this Isanna going? Is Abigail taking her to her new owner?† He leaned back and crossed his legs. â€Å"I suppose you could say that. I like to think of it as her new loving home. The man who bought her is very eager to welcome her.† â€Å"You’re a fucking bastard,† I growled. â€Å"Selling them like they’re property.† â€Å"Might as well be. And if it makes you feel better, I don’t sell all of them. Cariena there†¦hmm, well, she’s not pretty enough to get a good price. Easier to keep her around for house calls.† â€Å"House calls.† I started to feel sick again, and it had nothing to do with the nightshade. â€Å"Basically, you’re whoring her out. You sell sex slaves and run a brothel-and yet, all the while, you play hero shaman like you’re doing the world a good deed. Roland couldn’t say enough nice things about you.† Art straightened up, feet hitting the floor as a flash of anger shone in his eyes. â€Å"I am doing the world a good deed-this world. Those girls? They’re nothing. They aren’t human. And you†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He shook his head. â€Å"You’re one to talk about image. You play hero shaman too, when in reality you’re off commanding gentry armies. Does Roland know? Does he know what you really are? I’m sure he has to know you’re a half-breed mongrel, but does he really know the extent of it?† White-hot rage burned within the drug-induced haze of my mind. â€Å"I think you forgot the part where I’m going to kill you.† â€Å"And you forgot the part where I said I’m not worried.† Cariena returned holding a coffee mug. I eyed it warily. â€Å"What are you going to do with me?† I demanded. â€Å"You would have killed me already if you could, yet you probably aren’t going to let me go now that I know your dirty secret. Are you going to sell me off too? Keep me for yourself since you don’t like gentry?† Art shook his head and approached my bed. â€Å"Eugenie, you couldn’t pay me enough to keep you around. I’d take one of these idiot girls any day. Turn on the microwave, and they’re so scared that they’ll stay docile for weeks.† He gestured Cariena to his side and reached down to hold my head in place. I realized what he was going to do and began thrashing. With one hand he tried to keep me still, and with the other he partially held my mouth open. â€Å"Do it,† he said. Obediently, Cariena poured the liquid from the mug into my half-open mouth. As she did, she mouthed, I’m sorry. The stuff tasted horrible, and I gagged on it. I tried to spit it out, but Art promptly covered my mouth until I had to swallow. That bitterness flowed down my throat, and I could feel a new wave of numbness start to sweep over me. â€Å"Yes,† said Art, almost cheerfully. â€Å"You’re trouble. I don’t want you. I don’t know any human who would. But fortunately, we got an offer from someone who isn’t.† I think he was smiling that stupid smile again, but I could never say for sure. The force of the nightshade flooded through me, pulling me into fuzziness, then darkness, and then sleep. I immediately noticed two things when I came to later. One was that Art was still in the room, though I think he’d just returned and hadn’t been watching me sleep. The other thing I noticed was that I was uncuffed. I didn’t waste any time. I promptly leapt out of the bed and charged him. Unfortunately, I didn’t really make it off the bed so well. The nightshade was chugging along in my system, and my limbs barely had the energy to stay upright. I fell off the bed and collapsed into an ungraceful pile on the floor. Cariena was there too, holding a bundle of clothing, and started to come help me. Art shook his head, and she froze. â€Å"Looks like you won’t be killing me today,† he said. â€Å"You fucking bastard,† I said, tossing one arm on the bed and attempting to pull myself up. â€Å"How long was I out?† â€Å"Oh, an hour or so. That’s usually the worst part of it for humans. Now that you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, Cariena’s going to help you look respectable.† I glared at him. I didn’t know who’d stripped me down to this T-shirt and underwear, but if it had been him, he’d die extra slow. The scathing look he gave me suggested, however, that he found as little pleasure in me as I did in him. â€Å"You can’t keep me here,† I warned, managing at last to sit back on the bed. â€Å"Someone’s going to come looking for me.† â€Å"Who?† he asked. â€Å"You were the idiot who wandered off from your people. None of them saw you taken. None of them saw me or any of my companions-well, except for your two meager guards, and they won’t say anything to anyone ever again.† With a sinking feeling, I knew he was right. Nobody knew what had happened to me. I’d mentioned the Yellow River theory off and on to a few of my friends, but none of them had any reason to suspect that was connected to my post-battle disappearance. If anything, they’d probably think there’d been another demon on the loose. â€Å"Who the hell were your companions anyway?† I demanded, recalling the trained fighters. â€Å"Did you hire a mercenary army or something?† Art only smiled. â€Å"Cariena, get her dressed.† To me, he said, â€Å"Cooperate, or she’ll be the one who suffers for your disobedience.† He left, shutting the door behind him. I heard the snick of a lock. Across the room, Cariena watched me with big, terrified eyes. She feared both me and Art. I sighed. â€Å"It’s okay. I’ll get dressed. I don’t want to run around in my underwear anyway.† Visibly relieved, she stepped forward and unfurled what she held: a dress. A gentry-style dress. â€Å"You have got to be kidding me,† I said. â€Å"Isn’t there something else?† Cariena cringed. â€Å"It’s all he gave me.† I eyed the bedspread, almost wondering if I could go all Scarlett O’Hara and make something for myself. Then, seeing Cariena’s pale face, I yielded again. I wouldn’t let Art beat her or give her to some guy because of me. I took the dress from her but discovered I couldn’t put it on without help, not with my weak muscles and groggy motor control. Being in that state infuriated me. I hated being helpless. More upsetting still was that I was essentially free, unbound and able to move about†¦but I had no means to fight or defend myself. I could barely even stand. I was a prisoner in my own body. The dress was a mix of lavender and pale blue. I guess you’d call it periwinkle, which I’d always thought was a dorky name. It was made of smooth, clingy velvet that hugged my body and laced up the back corset-style. The sleeves were long and form-fitting, and the scoop neckline was much lower than my usual style. I’d only wear something that showed that much cleavage if I was going on a date with Kiyo-or trying to coax a favor from Dorian. Kiyo and Dorian. It sounded pathetic and all damsel-in-distress, but I would have given anything to have them here right now. Cariena clasped her hands and studied me almost adoringly. â€Å"You look beautiful, your majesty. I see now why you have so many suitors back in our world.† Our world. â€Å"Well, I don’t think my beauty plays quite as much a role as you think.† She produced a brush and undid the knotted ponytail in my hair. â€Å"I don’t know if I want to be beautiful or not. I used to think I did. But since I’m not, no one will take me from here.† She sounded grateful. â€Å"You are beautiful,† I said sharply, angry at what Art had said. â€Å"And someone is going to take you from here-me.† Cariena gave me a small, sad smile, but for the first time, I thought there might be something like hope in her eyes. A knock at the door startled her back into timid mode as she leapt up from where she’d sat beside me. â€Å"Oh! He’s here.† â€Å"Who?† I asked. Surely Art wouldn’t have knocked. The lock clicked, and the door opened. Leith walked in. â€Å"Leith!† I exclaimed. He looked as I’d seen him before, clad in a red and white silk shirt, dark hair glossy and swept from his face in a ponytail. I wanted to jump up but knew I’d fall to the floor again. â€Å"Thank God.† Someone did know I was here. I wasn’t lost forever. I wanted to tell Cariena we were on the verge of freedom, but she was already scurrying out of the room and hastily shutting the door. â€Å"Eugenie,† breathed Leith, striding toward me. He knelt on the ground and caught hold of my hands where I sat. â€Å"You are stunning†¦as beautiful as I remember. No, more so. You can’t imagine how I’ve missed you.† A chill crept along my spine. Something was very, very wrong here. â€Å"Leith†¦we have to get out of here. You have to help me-and these girls. There are horrible things going on here.† â€Å"We can leave,† he said. â€Å"But not quite yet. Not until everything’s settled.† I tested his hand to see if I could free mine. I couldn’t. â€Å"Until what’s settled?† â€Å"Until then,† he continued, as though I hadn’t spoken, â€Å"you’ll have to stay here where no one can find you. But I promise I’ll visit you every day.† â€Å"I can’t stay here! I have to get back to†¦anywhere that’s not here. Tucson. The Thorn Land. Anywhere! Leith, what the hell is going on? Why are you here?† â€Å"Because you are. Because Art got you for me.† That chill down my spine spread to the rest of my body until I felt cold all over. I tried jerking my hand away again but didn’t possess the strength. â€Å"How do you know Art? Oh God. Please tell me you aren’t working with him.† He shrugged. â€Å"It’s a mutually beneficial relationship. I help him collect girls in our-in the Otherworld.† â€Å"Girls from my kingdom,† I said, the realization coming suddenly. â€Å"That’s why none of yours were ever taken.† Leith had the grace to look sheepish. â€Å"I don’t take important ones, Eugenie. Just peasants. No one notices they’re missing.† â€Å"Their parents do.† â€Å"Look, it doesn’t matter. My soldiers help round them up, and I bring them to Art and Abigail to do what it is they do.† My soldiers. The soldiers who always wore red, just like Leith did now. Normally, red shirts made me think of Star Trek extras, but in this case, it was in tribute to the Rowan Land’s flag and emblem. The soldiers Jasmine and others had seen weren’t Aeson’s deserters. They’d been sent by Leith to help Art and Abigail with their abductions. â€Å"They sell them, Leith! How can you stand by and enable that? They sell those girls to horny guys against their will. What can you possibly get out of it to justify having that on your conscience?† â€Å"This.† He gestured around. â€Å"Art and Abigail share things with me†¦their knowledge from this world. I take it back to mine.† I stared in disbelief. â€Å"And then you pass it off as your own. That’s why everyone thinks you’re such a technological genius. Did you really devise those irrigation plans for me yourself?† â€Å"No,† he admitted. â€Å"I had help. But does it really matter? Look, you don’t know what it’s like. You’re strong. Your magic grows more powerful every day. But me? I’m a joke. I can’t inherit. Proving myself with my ‘genius’ was the only way to get any respect†¦and even that wouldn’t be good enough to let me inherit. Until I met you.† â€Å"Leith-â€Å" â€Å"I know what you said, but my feelings haven’t changed. I love you. And I know if you just spend a little more time with me, you’ll love me too. We connect. There’s something between us. It’s more than just about power.† I leaned back. It was the only way I could put distance between us. â€Å"I’m not so sure about that. You think I’m your meal ticket to holding on to the Rowan Land.† â€Å"Not just that land, but all the lands! This world too. Eugenie, when you bear my son, you’ll see that I’m right.† There was a zealous glow in his eyes, and I couldn’t decide if he was crazy or just really, really believed these things would be true if he said them. Maybe there wasn’t a difference. â€Å"I can make you happy-and I know you can make me happy. You’re so beautiful†¦.† He moved up to sit beside me on the bed and ran one hand along my velvet-covered leg. â€Å"Leith†¦don’t†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I just need to get you pregnant,† he said earnestly. â€Å"Don’t you understand? If I bring you back to our world carrying my child, everything will be solved. Art told me†¦he told me how you stop yourself from conceiving. How you take some potion every day.† His hand moved up to my hip while his other touched my face and stroked my hair. I tried to back away, but his grip was too strong in my addled state. â€Å"He said if you’re away from it long enough that you’ll be able to have a baby†¦.† I swallowed. My heart was threatening to pound out of my chest. â€Å"No†¦it won’t work. You can’t get me pregnant-because I already am.† His caresses froze. â€Å"What?† â€Å"You were right before about me being involved with Dorian. Kiyo was a cover. He’s not worthy-he’s no one I’d want to father my child. Dorian and I have been lovers for a long time now in secret. We were afraid of what his enemies would do if they found out. I’ve been pregnant for†¦Ã¢â‚¬  What wouldn’t show? â€Å"†¦two months. It’s too late for you, Leith.† He had gone perfectly still, save for his eyes, which were searching my face thoroughly. â€Å"I don’t believe you. You’re lying. Everyone knows how you bicker with the Oak King. You aren’t lovers.† â€Å"We are. He’ll kill you when he finds out.† Leith shook his head and slid his hand from my hip to my stomach. â€Å"There’s nothing here. Not yet.† Panic flooded me, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. Every other time I’d come close to being raped flashed through my mind-and there had been far more of those times than I would have liked. And every time, I had escaped the situation. Yet that never made the next time any less terrifying. This was no exception. â€Å"Leith, please don’t do this.† His hand moved fumblingly to my breast, and then he pushed me back against the bed. â€Å"It’s okay,† he said, speaking as one would to a child. â€Å"It’ll be okay. You’ll like it. I promise.† â€Å"Don’t do this!† His mouth was on my neck, and lovesick boy or no, there was definitely a man’s sexual need there. I struggled against him, trying desperately to free myself, but I might as well have truly been a child. With that fucking drug in me, both my body and brain were a mess. My body had none of its ability to fight him or stop him from pushing up my skirt. My brain had no clever ways to talk him out of this. And as he took off his own clothes and laid his body on top of mine, pressing me down, I realized he needed no handcuffs to keep me subdued. The strength of his hands pinning my wrists was more than enough. How to cite Thorn Queen Chapter Twenty-Two, Essay examples

A Rose For Emily Character Analysis Essay Example For Students

A Rose For Emily Character Analysis Essay An Interpretation of William Faulkners A Rose for Emily In the short story A Rose for Emily, William Faulkner tells the sad story of a woman who has had an extremely sheltered life. It is a tragic story in which Miss Emilys hopes and dreams for a normal life are hopelessly lost. William Faulkner was simply writing a sad story that can be related to anyone who has had hopes and aspirations, but has conflict within themselves and with others and who is unable to fulfill any of them. Miss Emily is kept at home by her father and is almost hidden from the world. It is not said in the story, but it is assumed that Miss Emilys mother is deceased or no longer around. The reader is left with the impression that her father was uncaring, abusive, and arrogant. Apparently he kept Miss Emily hidden from fitting suitors and did not let her make a life of her own. After her fathers death, Miss Emily was emotional unstable. For three days after her father died, she refused to acknowledge his death. She wouldnt let the towns people dispose of his body. She then regressed when they finally came to take his body out (because of the horrible smell which all of the neighbors were complaining about). Miss Emily locked herself away in her self-imposed dark world. When she finally comes out in to the town again, she has cut off all of her hair trying to make herself look like a little girl. Perhaps because she was trying to regain stolen time by her father. During this time she meets Homer, a man the townspeople consider beneath her who seems to almost replace her father. She finally seems to have found happiness, but is then seen buying poison in the local drug store. She asks for arsenic and refuses to tell the druggist what it is for. The townspeople think she is going to kill herself. Later they will find out how wrong they were! The townspeople try to pressure Miss Emily to marry Homer because they call their relationship improper and disgraceful. The townspeople contact her cousins to come into town and request their intervention. They come quickly and seem to talk some sense into her. The townspeople were assured of their marriage and her cousins returned home after one week. Homer then returned three days later and was seen coming into Miss Emilys back door. That was the last that was seen of him. The couple did not appear for six months. Rumors spread that her new husband was a shadow of her father and would not let her out. Other than a period of about six or seven months when she was about forty, Miss Emily was only seen when she was giving china painting lessons to some of the local girls. Years later, the girls stopped coming and she locked herself away for the next thirty years. At the age of seventy-four, her lifeless body was found in one of the down stairs beds. Her dusty retreat was open for the townspeople to come in and pay their respects. After her burial, the room upstairs that had not been seen for forty years was opened to reveal what appeared to be a bridal suite. Dust covered crystal and a mans toiletries made of tarnished silver were near a grooms suit. At last the shocking discovery was made. The rotting corpse of a man in a nightshirt was all that was left in the bed. Next to the body, was the indentation of a head. .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 , .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .postImageUrl , .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 , .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:hover , .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:visited , .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:active { border:0!important; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:active , .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7 .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u640ac8c4f39b54c34b54040c158380f7:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: The Future of Management Essay Found on the pillow was a long iron gray hair, which was Miss Emilys. It is thought that Miss Emily gave Homer an ultimatum that he had to either marry her or leave. When Homer refused her request, she was disgraced and deeply hurt. She was also reminded of her fathers unloving ways. She decided to end her misery and lash out her frustrations by poisoning the object of her desire. Although her crime of passion was sinful, the reader can still sympathize with her plight. You are left feeling sorry for Miss Emily because she left this world with out every truly being loved or appreciated. She was taken advantage of not only by her father, but also by her lover and the townspeople who taunted her and used her as the center of their gossip.