Ghost Chapter

It was the morning that Papa was leaving for his journey to Liverpool and Cathy and I were sitting down at the monstrous, bulky wooden table that had been passed down from many generations of the Earnshaw’s. While eating our milky warm porridge Papa sat down and asked me what I would like as a gift, but it had to be light for he was traveling sixty miles each way to Liverpool. I chose a fiddle and Cathy, a whip. Papa set out for his extensive trip and have us both warm kisses before he left. The night was grew old as Cathy and I waited for Papa, and we became more worried as the night became darker. After running to the gate one to many times, Nelly told us to go to our rooms but we pleaded her to let us say. Around eleven, Papa arrived home and sat down in the living room on his brown wooden chair. Out from underneath him was a little boy with dark hair and dark skin. Mama called him a gypsy and asked Papa why in God’s name he would bring another child into our house. She was right, we had barely enough food and clothes for the four of us, how would we raise another child? Just when I was about to ask for my fiddle, I saw Papa reaching into his coat pocket. “I’m sorry my boy,” he proclaimed as he took out the broken musical instrument that I had longed for. I now detested this boy; why should any other child, besides Cathy, have my father’s attention over me? Nelly was told to bathe, clothe, and feed him before putting him to sleep in our rooms, but Cathy and I would not allow it. After fighting urgently, Nelly placed him in the stairway were he stayed until he found the audacity to go into my parents’ bed chamber. This Heathcliff, our whatever Papa decided to call him, was not going to fit in here well at the Heights, and I would make sure of it.