Well, what can I say about my life?  All I can say is time is going buy real fast and I need to abolish all these obstacles that I have created.  While living in prison in Boston, I have experienced a wild rose­-bush, covered, in this month of June, and with its delicate gems.  Whenever a prisoner would enter in, passing the threshold the rose-bush would welcome the prisoners with an offer of their fragrance and fragile beauty.  I am at the market place facing many difficulties in life, when I have to tolerate everyone’s conversations about what I have done.  Passing through everyone with my three month old child pressing against my chest on the embroidered badge labeled A on my dress, I hear the puritan women’s view about me that “This woman has brought shame upon us all, and ought to die; is there not law for it?” (43). This is what I have to bare every minute and every second of these tortures.

When the whole crowd surrounded the scaffold, I spotted my husband in the crowd, who has sent me to Amsterdam but has never fulfilled his promise to follow me.  I had an arrange marriage with him and it seems like he has no idea how to be a life partner and the fulfillments and promises of a marriage.  When I entered into the court I was asked abundant questions from Mr. Dimmesdale, a young clergyman regarding who’s the father of the child? But I refused to tell and will never speak of it.  I also do not want to my husband to know who the actual father is of my child.  I am put into prison again and my husband and I meet face to face for the first time.  He promised to Master Brackett (jailer) that by taking the medicine I will be willing to answer every question.  I refused to take it because I thought of death, but I also have my treasure to look after.  I have thoughts of death,” said she —”have wished for it—would even prayed for it, were it fit that such as I pray for anything” (60).

I am released from prison and very thankful for it.  I decide to remain in Boston, but away from everyone, prefer to be alone with my child.  My talent is to support myself in needlework.  My detail of creativity defies the Puritan codes of  fashion.  Also, can demand burial shrouds, gowns, and robes.  Let’s forget the needle work for now and let’s focus on my daughter Pearl who is a treasure to me.  I love Pearl but really worry about her, she is a beautiful flower growing out of sinful soil.  Pearl creates casts of characters or visualizes pictures in her imagination to keep herself company.  http://kidshealth.org/parent/emotions/behavior/bullies.html  I sometimes wonder if Pearl might not be the demon-offspring that many of the town people believe her to be.  I am thankful for surviving and being brave of all the obstacle that came in the way.

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