[Gone with the Wind] Back to the beginning

Ever since her feet were covered with blisters from chasing the old sow for miles, it was very difficult for Scarlett to go out and do some heavy physical work even though she was enduring the pain.Although Ellen didn't quite agree with her doing that.Looking at the festered and inflamed toes, Scarlett wondered restlessly whether the black slaves would be lazy, and whether her father and Polk could bring back more game.Quiet, too quiet.She was the only one in the family, and even Mei Li carried Xiao Bo and accompanied Ellen to appease the black people.She was the only one left.

This feeling was so strange and uncomfortable that Scarlett felt that the seconds seemed like years.When I need the most strength, my feet are the ones who make trouble. What a treat!Alas, winter!Winter is coming soon.The roots and leaves in the vegetable garden are all planed!Not only do they have to find more food, they also have to prepare corn seeds and cotton seeds to plant next spring!God!Scarlett weaved the cloth mechanically, complaining in her heart that this thing could not be sold for a long time after the war.Scarlett was thinking wildly, what else could she do?What was she going to tell Mom, what was she going to do to make her believe that those horrible nightmares were all coming true—Jesus.

The silence was disconcerting, even desolate.The mockingbirds and calves were silent, and the bright sunlight that shone through the curtains was dimmed a lot.Scarlett tugged at the cloth in her hand, as if it would help her sort out the mess.That's strange, why is there the sound of horseshoes?Tap and tap.Still dreaming of Gerald jumping over fences?wake up.

But the sound of hooves was real, and it was getting closer.Scarlett stood up to look out the window, but the memory flashed across her mind like lightning, and she was so frightened that she hid behind the curtains!Hooves!a horse!Is the second crisis finally coming!

Soon she had calmed down, and Scarlett took a deep breath and checked through the crack in the curtain, just in time to see the hideous, Yankee face.A face she could never forget in her dreams.

The fellow sat listlessly on horseback, a rough-looking, stocky fellow with a black beard in a mess over his open-necked blue uniform.The small sunken eyes were narrowed into slits in the sun.From under the brim of his hat he surveyed the house--the place he was about to plunder--with an air of deliberate contempt.Then he threw the reins over the hitch.

Bone-piercing coldness, followed by spontaneous anger.The gangster, the gangster who had broken into her house, was going to put his dirty feet in her Tara.Trembling with fear and excitement, she faced the Yankee who she shot dead unexpectedly in her previous life.Scarlett took off her shoes without a sound and walked on tiptoe like a cat.She slowly opened the drawer and took out the pistol inside.The pistol that Rhett Butler specially left for her.She fired the loaded pistol|gun.

"I can do it. I've done it before, and I can do it again," Scarlett said to herself.

The Yankee's footsteps were clearly audible downstairs.Scarlett could almost see how the hideous and greedy guy walked into the manor step by step carefully, and then how arrogant he was when he found no one was home.He ran around underneath, knocking over chairs and smashing vases and didn't mind, collecting valuables with his dirty hands.His impudent loud footsteps seemed to mock Scarlett.

"I will definitely protect Tara." Scarlett swore to herself.She clings to the wall and approaches the stairs silently.She realized that the Yankee was also coming upstairs, and the hand holding the pistol was hidden in the folds of her skirt, and she could barely breathe.

Closer...closer...that Yankee was getting closer to her...

"Who's there?" The Yankee, who realized something was wrong, called out vigilantly, but showed a contemptuous smile when he saw the beauty at the corner of the corridor, but the next second, the shock, fear and contempt that hadn't had time to fade away were frozen forever on his face.The Yankee soldier fell on his back and tumbled down the stairs.Blood trickled from the large hole in his head.

The pistol that Scarlett held was smoking.

She took a breath and tried to lower her arms only to find her whole body was stiff.Scarlett barely leaned against the wall next to her, panting heavily.When she felt better, she was determined to deal with the corpse immediately.But when Scarlett raised her head, she opened her mouth uncontrollably:

"Mother."

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Smoke curled up to the ceiling.Bright red blood flowed under his feet.

Standing on the steps was the daughter who had just killed someone, and standing at the door was her gentle and dignified mother.Between them stood a dead body that had not yet cooled.There was blood gurgling.

The horror, pleasure and hatred of murder have not yet dissipated in her heart, Scarlett knows what she looks like—a resolute face and iron eyes, showing an unrepentant persistence.There was a look on her face, a look that should never have belonged to Scarlett O'Hara, the eldest daughter of the O'Haras.This look is alert, excited, active, and brutal, and behind it is a ruthless, self-serving soul.She almost stared at Ellen—with a courage she didn't know where she came from.

No, it might not be courage, but her long-repressed self.That was when all her disguises were finally torn off without reservation, and her worries and fears were so ridiculous at this moment.She clenched her fists tightly and stood there with a carefree attitude.Yes, that's right, Scarlett O'Hara was like that.She didn't intend to pretend now, and she threw everything to the woman standing at the door.

"Get rid of him," Ellen said, "We don't have much time left."

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Silently, Scarlett rummaged from the Yankee's pocket for candle stubs, string, tobacco, jackknife, coffee, and from the other side a gold thimble, a garnet brooch, a wide-brimmed gold bracelet, a small silver cup, a diamond ring, and a gold Scissors - apparently his trophy.She piled it all aside, along with the gold coins she found in the Yankee purse, obviously to keep it for herself.

Ellen frowned, and Tara's mistress was kneeling on the floor and wiping the blood that hadn't clotted on the floor with a napkin.She stuffed something where the Yankee was bleeding and closed his eyes.During this period, she quickly said something that probably meant God bless, but Scarlett didn't listen carefully.But she knew that Ellen was helping her dispose of the body—and she didn't question a word about her misappropriation of Yankee property.

This was of course unusual, and Scarlett knew that it was because Ellen wanted to get rid of the Yankee corpse as soon as possible out of the desire to protect her daughter.However, her state just now was also unusual.

At that moment, after she had just killed someone, she raised her head and bumped into her mother, knowing that she could no longer pretend to be a southern lady, the solitary indignation of killing and the grievance buried in her heart poured out together. At that moment, Ellen was the whole south, opposing her, Stubborn, would never accept her such a Scarlett South!The nostalgia in my heart can hardly be kept, and the grief and indignation at that moment is almost like an enemy.She was pushed to the brink, and then Ellen O'Hara said to her calmly, let's get rid of him.

Her reason took hold of the situation, and then she was amazed that she and Ellen—not the mother at this moment, but a dignified Southern woman—were disposing of the Yankee corpse.How calm she looked, as if she was doing no more than the most common chores.But Scarlett had a thorn in her heart, and she wanted to pry into the heart of the woman beside her!Not the mother, but the southern woman next to her!She had seen her courage, tough as iron, soft as silk, elusive, hidden.But she couldn't pierce her heart.

"It seems that he robbed a lot of people." She said contemptuously.Then he turned to Ellen, who had always been calm and calm: "We have to bury him so that no one will find out. Time is too tight, and the whiskey soil under the arbor at the corner of the vegetable garden is soft, so take out the whiskey and bury the Yankee in it."

Ellen said calmly, "Take him by the feet, Scarlett. Let's get him out together, and then you dig the ground, and I'll come back to clean up the blood. I'll get it right and help you." She spoke as if Belle is like her sisters.

"I scratched his head. His head was bleeding," said Scarlett. "Your clothes are newer than mine."

"No." Ellen said decisively, "Even if you can kill people, it doesn't mean you can bear that thing better than me." At the same time, she had hugged the Yankee's head, even though it made her face pale.She said very calmly: "Okay, let's go."

Scarlett trembled in her heart—she took a deep look at Ellen, squatted down, clamped the Yankee's thighs with her ribs, and went around to support them firmly.She said, "Let's go."

It seemed to be wobbly, but it actually walked down step by step.Scarlett imagined that Ellen's face would turn pale with fine beads of perspiration on her brow--for a moment it did not pain her.She had the feeling of having shaken and crushed her opponents—Ellen admitted that she was, and there was nothing she could do about it.At first, she was excited, but then she became irritable again for some reason.

Scarlett was thinking while digging the not-so-solid soil.

In the end, she gritted her teeth and buried the body before Ellen cleaned up the blood.It was as if a battle had been won.Then the 19-year-old girl saw her mother with a sullen face, her gentle, quiet, dignified and pale mother.

Ellen looked her up and down, and suddenly sighed.

"Scarlett, dear," she sighed, "why do you think me and the South are enemies?"