Post by JACQUELYN DESCHAMPS on Sept 9, 2015 22:39:18 GMT
Jacquelyn Emanuele
Deschamps
Deschamps
NAME: Jacquelyn Emanuele Deschamps,
AGE: 31
GROUP: French Citizen
Occupation: Governess
I was one of the lucky ones.
Your Alias: Slayer
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Time Zone: Uk GMT+1
AGE: 31
GROUP: French Citizen
Occupation: Governess
I was one of the lucky ones.
While the people of France were starving on the streets of Paris, I grew up in a small village just 30 miles from the great city. That's what my sisters and I called it. The great city. I imagined it to be a paradise, a city that held promises of life and liberty. Liberty was one of the first words I ever learn't and my parents drilled it into me and my four sisters. My father was a Lawyers Clark and was often away from home. His income although small was sufficient enough and mother received money from our grandmother who was well off from her second marriage. I was the third child. A middle child and with four girls my parents were at their wits end as to what to do with us all. My eldest sister Adélaïde was the beauty of the family, with long blonde hair and dazzling green eyes, my father was sure he could find a good match for her. The year she turned sixteen my parents found her the perfect match - a tailor. He seemed a strange man to me, but as my mother explained, he had a good business and would be able to provide for Adelaide. I wasn't particularly interested in my sisters new marriage, but when the day came for her to leave our home and to join her new husband in Paris - I couldn't help but feel sad.
I was just ten years old when cholera tore through our little village. My youngest sister Marie fell ill and so my mother sent myself and Edith on a public carriage to our grandmothers. There we stayed for weeks, with no word on our sister, all we could do was complete the lessons our grandma set and pray for our little Marie. She would get better. I told myself as I patiently etched out the passages grandma had set. My handwriting needed much improvement and so I found myself spending the hours in front of the many books my grandma owned.
I was just ten years old when cholera tore through our little village. My youngest sister Marie fell ill and so my mother sent myself and Edith on a public carriage to our grandmothers. There we stayed for weeks, with no word on our sister, all we could do was complete the lessons our grandma set and pray for our little Marie. She would get better. I told myself as I patiently etched out the passages grandma had set. My handwriting needed much improvement and so I found myself spending the hours in front of the many books my grandma owned.
I had no remarkable talents in life, I wasn't particularly beautiful, not like Adelaide who was living happily in Paris. She wrote concerned letters each week asking for news of Marie...but she never visited. My sister Edith had a talent for music, she would often play the small piano that lived in the corner of grandmas living room. It was a talent, my grandma said, that would help her get a good husband. She had accomplishments you see. I couldn't sing and my fingers fell so clumsily over the piano keys my grandma had begged me to never touch the keys again. She feared I'd wake the dead with my horrendous playing.
The weeks passed and eventually a letter came.
The weeks passed and eventually a letter came.
Come home darlings, come home.
Your darling sister Marie was claimed by God, she was too special to stay with us for so long. He must have a special job for her up above and she will be in our prayers. Please come home my darlings, I miss you. Your Mother.
We rushed home with heavy hearts. The seasons came and went and I grew older. I continued with my lessons at home. I suppose I only really found pleasure in the lessons I took. I enjoyed reading and no matter what the subject was I usually managed to find something within the pages to keep me entertained. There wasn't much to do in our lonely little village and in my free time I found myself wandering beyond our little garden. That's how I met Fabien Léandre.
He was a real gentleman with big dreams. He was well educated and we struck up conversation, first to do with literature and then more personal matters. I was flattered, no one had ever given me the attention Fabien did. I was young and incredibly naive and little did I realise I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
Off he went to chase other dreams leaving me behind with nothing but his child growing inside of me. My parents were livid. I was ruined, the village was so small there was no doubt people would learn of my situation.
I was one of the lucky ones...
My grandmother arranged for the child to be taken in by a kindly family. I wasn't told who or where, just that they would care for the child and I might be able to rebuild my life. She was born on a warm summer evening and as I held my child for the first and last time I cried. I cried because she had his eyes. I'd loved him and he left us alone. Left us alone to crumble under the weight of Gods stern eyes.
I had to grow up now. I couldn't stay at home, people had their suspicions and critical eyes followed me everywhere. I couldn't marry. That would be wrong. I was impure.
I thank God every day for my grandmother, she is a lady of real strength. She managed to get me a position in Paris as a governess. How she managed such a thing was completely beyond, me but she had a real talent for words. I promised her I would never speak of my troubles. I would work for the family that had employed me. I had my own lodging in Paris and now I was on my own. Alone to make my own way in the world.
Being a woman alone in Paris has opened my eyes up to many things. I found I was not the only woman who had fallen pray a man. There are all to many women with a similar tale to mine and although I keep my secret close to my heart, I look at the young girls who are trying to make ends meat and wish I could help. I have little money, the family I work for pay for my lodgings and give me a little for food, candles and if I'm lucky a little cloth. I often sit in the ABC cafe to save going back to my dark cold room at night. I mark the children's work and watch those around me with a little interest.
He was a real gentleman with big dreams. He was well educated and we struck up conversation, first to do with literature and then more personal matters. I was flattered, no one had ever given me the attention Fabien did. I was young and incredibly naive and little did I realise I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
Off he went to chase other dreams leaving me behind with nothing but his child growing inside of me. My parents were livid. I was ruined, the village was so small there was no doubt people would learn of my situation.
I was one of the lucky ones...
My grandmother arranged for the child to be taken in by a kindly family. I wasn't told who or where, just that they would care for the child and I might be able to rebuild my life. She was born on a warm summer evening and as I held my child for the first and last time I cried. I cried because she had his eyes. I'd loved him and he left us alone. Left us alone to crumble under the weight of Gods stern eyes.
I had to grow up now. I couldn't stay at home, people had their suspicions and critical eyes followed me everywhere. I couldn't marry. That would be wrong. I was impure.
I thank God every day for my grandmother, she is a lady of real strength. She managed to get me a position in Paris as a governess. How she managed such a thing was completely beyond, me but she had a real talent for words. I promised her I would never speak of my troubles. I would work for the family that had employed me. I had my own lodging in Paris and now I was on my own. Alone to make my own way in the world.
Being a woman alone in Paris has opened my eyes up to many things. I found I was not the only woman who had fallen pray a man. There are all to many women with a similar tale to mine and although I keep my secret close to my heart, I look at the young girls who are trying to make ends meat and wish I could help. I have little money, the family I work for pay for my lodgings and give me a little for food, candles and if I'm lucky a little cloth. I often sit in the ABC cafe to save going back to my dark cold room at night. I mark the children's work and watch those around me with a little interest.
Your Alias: Slayer
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Time Zone: Uk GMT+1
