Jane Eyre Third Edition Novels & Stories

C H A P T E R 3 : T H E N I C E B A C K R U B A N D C H I L D H O O D M E M O R Y J A V I E R S U M M E R S

It smelled like vanilla I put it back quickly. No. I wasn't going to get comfortable here. This wasn't my home no matter how nice it looked. I walked back into the bedroom and that's when I saw the bookshelf. A whole wall of books. How did I miss that ? Oh right I was too busy having a mental breakdown. I walked over and looked at the titles. Jane Eyre. Wuthering Heights. Beauty and the Beast. Phantom of the Opera. Rebecca. These all looked familiar. I pulled out Jane Eyre and a piece of paper fell out. Fancy handwriting on expensive paper.

“No.” Jane didn’t hesitate. She walked over and sat beside him on the riverbank, pulling her knees to her chest. “More visions?” He nodded, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Worse than before.” Jane studied him for a moment before reaching into her bag. She hesitated, then pulled out an old, fragile-looking piece of parchment, covered in the same ancient script as the book she had shown Caitlyn. “I think I found something about you,” she said carefully.

she was walking in front so she didn't see everyone turn their heads to look at me. Scarlette smirked and Jerry sniggered. Gillian's eyes glimmered with hope, and my heart began to thump with even more hope. Hazel led us up to the third floor and into a room with a door made out of oak wood. I gasped when we entered the room. Now this was magical. There were a lot of flying books and tiny pixies carrying some. Ten large orbs floated in the middle of the room, lining each other like a planetary alignment with a large glass staircase spiralling around them up to the roof.

“Raf?” But he is gone and I am alone in the lamp. I finish the movie but I have no way to watch another since he just magically made it play. So instead I walk over to the bookshelf and look through the books. He has all the classics and I grab Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Moving over to the bed I lay down and begin to read. I look at my phone to see that it is nine thirty-seven at night. My eyes grow heavy so I finish the chapter before I lay the book aside. I forgot my clothes so I go and put them in the dryer before I return to bed.

It looked almost ordinary, which somehow made it more unsettling. Jane leaned closer immediately, curiosity winning over caution like it always did with her. She released my hand and carefully lifted the book off my chest, settling it between her palms like it might bite if mishandled. “It is English,” she said after a quick scan. Then her brows pulled together. “But… this is strange.” Sammy shifted beside the bed, impatience tightening his shoulders. “Does it even matter who wrote it. Just read the bloody content.” Jane shot him a look but did not argue. She cleared her throat and started reading from the beginning, her voice steady, analytical, stripping emotion away as if that would make

When I turned to the kitchen to make breakfast, I noticed a big parcel wrapped in a red ribbon with a note, I know you always wanted this edition. I hope you like it. P.S. Breakfast is on the pan. E A smile lit up my face as I tugged off the red ribbon and opened the gift paper to reveal a beautiful hardcover of one of my favorite authors, Jane Austen. It was The Complete Novels of Jane Austen in lilac purple leather-bound hardcover. The book was heavy, but I was in utter awe at its beauty and the intricate design on the front cover. I loved it. I adored it, and I knew if I could, I would keep this edition on a pedestal.

“When Charlotte Brontte published it that year, it generated a lot of controversy.” “Why?” the woman seemed interested. “Because of the unusual love story. Jane Eyre is an independent woman from a rich family, when her father died she was evicted just like that with her property controlled by her mother and step-sister. Kind of like a Cinderella story, huh?” Diana chuckled. “But then she becomes a teacher to teach a little girl, the daughter of a wealthy nobleman who has become a widower. She had to live in a dark castle, where reportedly the castle was haunted and the owner was a very scary noble, but was never home because he was so busy with his business. She taught the noble girl, a litt

I’ve lived my life, protecting myself from the world, from disappointment, betrayal and lies, but with her, I began to bring down those walls until I didn’t even know when my feelings developed into so much more without even seeing a glimpse of her. I skim over her collection, Motorcycle Club, Mafia... Disney Villain tales… and then there are the classics that she accidentally slipped out that she reads before denying she read them. I crouch down. They may be at the bottom, but the books have been read and I can’t help but smile. Jane Eyre, Anne of Green Gables, Pride and Prejudice, The Thirteenth Tale… Smiling, I take out the first book in the Anne of Green Gables collection, remembering ho

But Neah wasn't ready to be weak for anyone! Dear readers, all edits have been made from chapter 31 to this one and would be approved on the 7th of October Do well to leave a review 🤸🏼‍♀️