Trying To Live When Everythings Gone

I started to write this for English, but it turns out I didnt need it. Its quite short too.
This is about a young girl called Amelia, living in the Victorian era. Her life is hard and tiring but it is all worth while to see her brothers and sisters happy, and to know that she is helping keep her family alive. Amelia is given a chance for more money and agrees to go, leaving her family behind, only speaking through letters with her mother. Amelia recieves devastating news whilst hard at work and doesnt know how shes going to carry on. Can she keep working to save her family?


3. Bad News

It had been 3 weeks of tiresome work at the Walters when I receive a piece of tragic news from my mother. She sent me a letter telling me that there had been a mining accident and no one survived. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes skimmed through her words again. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. My Father had been trapped in a mine, killed at his work whilst trying to earn money for the ones he loved. I had no time to mourn though. I had to get to work; I knew that father would want me to not be sad. He would want me to earn. I left the letter on my bed, not wanting to read anymore just then. I brushed my hand across my face, catching any stray tears, as I left my room.

When I got downstairs I felt the kitchen staff’s eyes on me. I turned around.

“We are so sorry for your loss Amelia” they told me.

I gave them a puzzled look, wondering how they could have known.

“Mistress told us. She received a letter from your mother.” Mrs Ally said softly after seeing my face.

“Thank you.” I whispered, reminding myself I had made a promise not to cry again, even though I could feel the salty tears, welding up in my eyes.

That day went past so slow. I got less work as mistress thought it would make it easier for me, even though it did not take the pain away.

Later I went back to my room to finish the letter. I had been told by my mother that little Eloise is ill, and is getting worse. Images of baby Victor flash before my eyes, and my legs suddenly felt too weak to hold myself up.

When I had finished my work and was upstairs for the night, I wrote a reply to my mother, telling her all will be well and asking if she got the money I sent a few days ago. She had taught me to read and write when I was little as she had been lucky enough to go to a small school when she was younger, so I could write to her. When I was done I tried to get to sleep, but would only wake due to nightmares.


I often started to cry when I sat alone in my room, missing my father, wishing I could be with my family for birthdays and wanting to hear someone talk to me like they wanted me. I never cried in the day, in front of the staff.

Mrs Walters would see my red eyes every morning, though, but never said a word, she would only watch me; clearly starting to get annoyed with me being upset as she thought it drew me away from my work.

Every day I would get back to my hard work, which was now not so easy anymore. I would scrub the floor, clean the cutlery, crockery and glassware. I would also watch the dinner cooking. Sometimes I would do special jobs for the kitchen maids if they were too busy to do it themselves, but that wasn’t very often.

Each night I sent a letter to my mother, telling her my day was fine and when my pay would be being sent. I would try to sleep but could only thing of my family. I kept on panicking in case I lost someone else.

Every morning when I woke my eyes were always red. It felt as though I had been awake all night, which I probably had.

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