Handmaid's Tale Novel Novels & Stories

“Let’s just finish up.” ‎ ‎I didn’t press. Not yet. ‎ ‎By afternoon, we were outside in the gardens, trimming hedges that seemed to grow wild overnight. My back ached, my hands were blistered, and sweat stuck my hair to my face. I groaned loudly. ‎ ‎“This is torture,” I complained, dropping the shears. “Being a handmaid is exhausting.” ‎ ‎Lila laughed, the sound bright like bells. “It helps if you sing.” ‎

She fanned her burning mouth. "Slow down will you?" His face cringed. "But I'm so hungry!" She tried to speak with the noodles in her mouth. "Tch, hot! Water!" She took the glass beside her. He shook his head as he clicked his tongue finding her hopeless. "I was so shocked by the fact that I'm inside my own novel, I forgot that I haven't had anything since the day I came into this world." She wiped the bowl clean and rubbed her tummy satisfied. "I was so hungry that I didn't even have a chance to complain about this food-" She smiled nodding.

It was as if they all went to the same school to learn how to mistreat people of lower classes because as soon as he discovered that I was a maid, he became cold. I did not know if I hated the ones like Dominic who already presented themselves as rude and showed that we would never be of the same class or if I hated the ones like Scout who started off kind and sweet only to suddenly become rude. “Anyway, there are a few dishes for you to wash,” he said I walked away and headed to the tiny room to change out of my clothes and back into my maid uniform and then went to the kitchen. There were barely any dishes in the sink. It was literally just two empty glasses and one plate in the sink.

That was the most terrifying truth of all. Instead, he opened a different app. Pulled up the security footage from the greenhouse that night. He'd watched it dozens of times. Torturing himself. Watching her cry as she harvested the plants. Watching her whisper apologies to him even though he wasn't there. Watching her collapse when he'd confronted her. And every time, he saw the same thing: a woman who was utterly destroyed by what she was doing. A woman who hated herself for betraying him. A woman who was choosing her mother's life over her own happiness.

Yolanda chirped and I flared my nose, biting down my retort when I realized her tone did not have the malicious heat of the other workers lacing it. Anxiety clenched a cold fist around my heart as I ran my fingers through the dress, yelping when the woman poked me into the washroom, snatching off the lace of my undergarments unabashedly as liquid heat traveled up my neck and cheeks. ”We’ll have to get you ready quickly little one. Most of the other handmaidens have gotten their Ladies ready.” The woman sing-songed, clapping and mouthing off as the rush of hot water rained down around me before I shut it off, her garbled words harmonizing until it sounded more like her human alto than the ali

The first novel I read was by Louisa May Alcott; Little Woman, and then moved on to other feminist novels such as Handmaid's Tale and Pride and Prejudice—the book I'm holding right now. Well, I shouldn't be going around the library looking for a novel I like because what I'm supposed to be doing is taking care of a crazy bastard named Rhysand del Millero, who's on the phone. But I don't want to do that. I'd rather buy time with the books in front of me until the helicopter he's waiting for comes over to the bullshit he started. Damn, I hate this situation. I hate being stuck with a domineering, powerful man who loves to be heard more than to hear, and hates that I can't do anything.

Hearing all the rumors and excitement for the grand wedding around the palace felt surreal as if another girl was getting ready to marry the Duke, not Edwina. “Yes, ma’am. Duke Claiborne has assigned me to be your new handmaid. Myself and several others.” Mrs. Mercy bowed her head once again. Edwina’s vision began to swim. A handmaid? And several others? She didn’t need an entourage. What would she even use a handmaid for? Handmaids were for noblewomen who didn’t know how to use their own hands to dress themselves!

“Actually, I don’t think it’s a novel. I would call it a journal but people call it a novel.” "Wow. Are you saying that this book is old? An antique classic?" Flynn asks, grabbing the book and opening it carefully. “Wah, the smell of the papers is just..” It's written by hand and it looked really interesting to the girl. "It is." Seolla says. "What is it about? Can you give me some insights about it?" "Well it's about how strict and wicked marriages are like from the past." Seolla informs. "The Moon Guardian became a God because he killed his own wife and he is being punished."

It took me a moment to place the unfamiliar voice, but it hit me just as the doorknob began to turn. Mara. My new “handmaid.” The door slowly opened, and I sat up quickly, hurrying to hide the book. The last thing I wanted right now was for nayone to question why I was reading an ancient book on reincarnation, so I quickly grabbed it and looked around, then shoved it under the mattress just as the bedroom door fully opened. Mara stepped in. She was already fully dressed in her crisp uniform, her hair pulled back into a neat bun, with the same overly pleasant expression on her face as yesterday.

Her eyes met that of Hulio's and all she saw was remorse. She could see he didn't want this to happen. He didn't think this would happen but it did and it was too late to turn back the hands of time. I should have stayed with Hulio, instead of chasing money. Now I'm doomed. I would never get married or have a family on my own as I had imagined. Oh, Jovena your life has come to an end after all. She thought to herself as they dragged her into the cell.