Because Mrs. Mallard suffered from heart disease, her sister, Josephine, told her husband's sister's death very carefully. The news is not said directly, but with sentences that contain full instructions.
Her husband's friend Richards was also there. He was the one who had been in the newspaper office when he heard the news that his train had been in an accident. As she read the list of casualties, she saw Brently Mallard's name at the top of the list of dead victims. But he did not immediately accept the truth of the information. After the second telegram arrived with the same information, he immediately rushed to Mrs. Mallard's house, and hoped that no one would bring this news to him recklessly.
After Josephine had finished speaking, Mrs. Mallard just stood as if she did not quite understand the sentences spoken by her sister. Then suddenly he cried as cynically as possible in Josephine's arms. When the storm of sadness in him subsided, he went to his room. Before leaving he advised that no one should follow him because he wanted to calm himself for a moment and did not want anyone to disturb him.
Inside the room there is a lounge chair that is placed facing the open window. It is there that he sits down to remove all the pressure that permeates the body and gets to his soul.
From there he can see the view that is in front of his house. The tops of the trees swaying with joy greeted the arrival of spring. The fragrant scent of rain breathes in the air. The tune of a song from a distance sounded faintly. And hundreds of sparrows twittering on the roof of his house. In the blue sky the clouds pile up and overlap.
He sat with his head resting on a cushion, not moving at all except when sobs caught his throat and rattled his body, like a child crying to sleep and then crying in his dream.
She's young. Her face always looked calm and radiant. The lines on his face gave the impression that he was a tough-hearted woman. But now his eyes were staring cloudly overhead. He is not daydreaming. He's just thinking about something.
A feeling comes and tries to get it. He did not quite understand what he was feeling. The feeling is so subtle and difficult to explain. But he felt it clearly. As if an aroma, the feeling filled the air around him.
Now his chest heaving up and down. He was beginning to understand the feelings that haunt him. With all her might, Mrs. Mallard tried to outdo and dispel these feelings.
When the feeling began to drown himself, a whisper of words came out of his slightly open lips. Mrs. Mallard repeated it repeatedly, "Free, free, I am free!" The look of boredom and fear that had haunted her now vanished without leaving a trace. His eyes came back sharp and bright. Her pulse was pounding and her blood rushed warm inside her veins.
He wondered if what he felt was an explosion of joy or not. But his hunch told him to ignore this trivial thing. No matter what is happening, the most important thing is that he is very happy.
She realized she would cry again when she saw her husband's soft hands folded in death. She also imagined the face of her husband, who seemed never to be filled with love for her, lying stiff and pale. But he remains optimistic. He began to imagine what wonderful things he would find in his life. By opening and stretching his arms he is ready to welcome those beautiful moments.
He will no longer live for the sake of others. He will live for himself. According to Mrs. Mallard, men always think that women should always submit and be faithful to all orders of her husband, because women must put men's interests first. But now there will be nothing that can hinder his intention. He will be free to do whatever he pleases without a ban from a husband. Looking back over the days she spent with her husband, Mrs. Mallard felt less sinful about thinking this way.
However, he loves her husband, sometimes. But often not. Anyway, what's the difference? Love can not do anything to withstand the nature of self-assertion that is the greatest character that dominates itself.
"Free! Finally my body and soul are free! "Whispered Mrs. Mallard.
Jophine was at her sister's door, and begged to be admitted. "Brother, please open the door. Please, open the door. Later brother can get sick. What are you doing? For God's sake, open the door, kak! "
"Go on, Josephine. I will not get sick. "Obviously not, because Mrs. Mallard was drinking the most effective ingredients.
Fantasy of her beautiful future grew more and more in her head. She imagined the days she would be happily happy with. He offered a short prayer hoping his life would be long, so he could enjoy all those happy days. Yet just yesterday she thought that she would suffer all her life.
Finally Mrs. Mallard stood up and opened the door to relieve her sister's anxiety. Her eyes radiated a flash of triumph, and without realizing her body moved and walked like the Goddess of Victory. She put a hand on her sister's waist, and went downstairs together. Richards was still standing waiting for them downstairs.
Suddenly, there was a voice like someone trying to open the front door. After the door opened, Brently Mallard appeared in his somewhat crumpled clothes for a long journey. She calmly entered with her pocket of jinjingan and umbrella. When the accident occurred, it turns out he was in a distant place because he had long descended from the train. She stood in astonishment at the sight of Josephine crying, and also Richards moving quickly bowed near her wife's laughing body on the floor.
But Richards did not have time to help him.
When the doctors came, they explained that Mrs. Mallard died of a heart attack. In the end it was the joy that killed Mrs. Mallard.
****[finished]****