Désirée's Baby New endings

Creative Writing

Lycée Ile de Nantes – American International Section

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Let’s write alternative endings…

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Désirée’s Baby by Kate Chopin

DESIREE'S BABY

As the day was pleasant, Madame Valmondé drove over to L'Abri to see Desiree and the baby.

It made her laugh to think of Desiree with a baby. Why, it seemed but yesterday that Desiree was little more than a baby herself; when Monsieur in riding through the gateway of Valmonde had found her lying asleep in the shadow of the big stone pillar.

The little one awoke in his arms and began to cry for "Dada." That was as much as she could do or say. Some people thought she might have strayed there of her own accord, for she was of the toddling age. The prevailing belief was that she had been purposely left by a party of Texans, whose canvas-covered wagon, late in the day, had crossed the ferry that Coton Mais kept, just below the plantation. In time Madame Valmonde abandoned every speculation but the one that Desiree had been sent to her by a beneficent Providence to be the child of her affection, seeing that she was without child of the flesh. For the girl grew to be beautiful and gentle, affectionate and sincere,—the idol of Valmonde.

It was no wonder, when she stood one day against the stone pillar in whose shadow she had lain asleep, eighteen years before, that Armand Aubigny riding by and seeing her there, had fallen in love with her. That was the way all the Aubignys fell in love, as if struck by a pistol shot. The wonder was that he had not loved her before; for he had known her since his father brought him home from Paris, a boy of eight, after his mother died there. The passion that awoke in him that day, when he saw her at the gate, swept along like an avalanche, or like a prairie fire, or like anything that drives headlong over all obstacles.

Monsieur Valmonde grew practical and wanted things well considered: that is, the girl's obscure origin. Armand looked into her eyes and did not care. He was reminded that she was nameless. What did it matter about a name when he could give her one of the oldest and proudest in Louisiana? He ordered the corbeille from Paris, and contained himself with what patience he could until it arrived; then they were married.

Madame Valmonde had not seen Desiree and the baby for four weeks. When she reached L'Abri she shuddered at the first sight of it, as she always did. It was a sad looking place, which for many years had not known the gentle presence of a mistress, old Monsieur Aubigny having married and buried his wife in France, and she having loved her own land too well ever to leave it. The roof came down steep and black like a cowl, reaching out beyond the wide galleries that encircled the yellow stuccoed house. Big, solemn oaks grew close to it, and their thick-leaved, far-reaching branches shadowed it like a pall. Young Aubigny's rule was a strict one, too, and under it his negroes had forgotten how to be gay, as they had been during the old master's easy-going and indulgent lifetime.

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The young mother was recovering slowly, and lay full length, in her soft white muslins and laces, upon a couch. The baby was beside her, upon her arm, where he had fallen asleep, at her breast. The yellow nurse woman sat beside a window fanning herself.

Madame Valmonde bent her portly figure over Desiree and kissed her, holding her an instant tenderly in her arms. Then she turned to the child.

"This is not the baby!" she exclaimed, in startled tones. French was the language spoken at Valmonde in those days.

"I knew you would be astonished," laughed Desiree, "at the way he has grown. The little cochon de lait! Look at his legs, mamma, and his hands and fingernails,—real finger-nails. Zandrine had to cut them this morning. Isn't it true, Zandrine?"

The woman bowed her turbaned head majestically, "Mais si, Madame."

"And the way he cries," went on Desiree, "is deafening. Armand heard him the other day as far away as La Blanche's cabin."

Madame Valmonde had never removed her eyes from the child. She lifted it and walked with it over to the window that was lightest. She scanned the baby narrowly, then looked as searchingly at Zandrine, whose face was turned to gaze across the fields.

"Yes, the child has grown, has changed," said Madame Valmonde, slowly, as she replaced it beside its mother. "What does Armand say?"

Desiree's face became suffused with a glow that was happiness itself.

"Oh, Armand is the proudest father in the parish, I believe, chiefly because it is a boy, to bear his name; though he says not,—that he would have loved a girl as well. But I know it isn't true. I know he says that to please me. And mamma," she added, drawing Madame Valmonde's head down to her, and speaking in a whisper, "he hasn't punished one of them—not one of them—since baby is born. Even Negrillon, who pretended to have burnt his leg that he might rest from work—he only laughed, and said Negrillon was a great scamp. Oh, mamma, I'm so happy; it frightens me."

What Desiree said was true. Marriage, and later the birth of his son had softened Armand Aubigny's imperious and exacting nature greatly. This was what made the gentle Desiree so happy, for she loved him desperately. When he frowned she trembled, but loved him. When he smiled, she asked no greater blessing of God. But Armand's dark, handsome face had not often been disfigured by frowns since the day he fell in love with her.

When the baby was about three months old, Desiree awoke one day to the conviction that there was something in the air menacing her peace. It was at first too subtle to grasp. It had

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only been a disquieting suggestion; an air of mystery among the blacks; unexpected visits from far-off neighbors who could hardly account for their coming. Then a strange, an awful change in her husband's manner, which she dared not ask him to explain. When he spoke to her, it was with averted eyes, from which the old love-light seemed to have gone out. He absented himself from home; and when there, avoided her presence and that of her child, without excuse. And the very spirit of Satan seemed suddenly to take hold of him in his dealings with the slaves. Desiree was miserable enough to die.

She sat in her room, one hot afternoon, in her peignoir, listlessly drawing through her fingers the strands of her long, silky brown hair that hung about her shoulders. The baby, half naked, lay asleep upon her own great mahogany bed, that was like a sumptuous throne, with its satin-lined half-canopy. One of La Blanche's little quadroon boys—half naked too—stood fanning the child slowly with a fan of peacock feathers. Desiree's eyes had been fixed absently and sadly upon the baby, while she was striving to penetrate the threatening mist that she felt closing about her. She looked from her child to the boy who stood beside him, and back again; over and over. "Ah!" It was a cry that she could not help; which she was not conscious of having uttered. The blood turned like ice in her veins, and a clammy moisture gathered upon her face.

She tried to speak to the little quadroon boy; but no sound would come, at first. When he heard his name uttered, he looked up, and his mistress was pointing to the door. He laid aside the great, soft fan, and obediently stole away, over the polished floor, on his bare tiptoes.

She stayed motionless, with gaze riveted upon her child, and her face the picture of fright.

Presently her husband entered the room, and without noticing her, went to a table and began to search among some papers which covered it.

"Armand," she called to him, in a voice which must have stabbed him, if he was human. But he did not notice. "Armand," she said again. Then she rose and tottered towards him. "Armand," she panted once more, clutching his arm, "look at our child. What does it mean? tell me."

He coldly but gently loosened her fingers from about his arm and thrust the hand away from him. "Tell me what it means!" she cried despairingly.

"It means," he answered lightly, "that the child is not white; it means that you are not white."

A quick conception of all that this accusation meant for her nerved her with unwonted courage to deny it. "It is a lie; it is not true, I am white! Look at my hair, it is brown; and my eyes are gray, Armand, you know they are gray. And my skin is fair," seizing his wrist. "Look at my hand; whiter than yours, Armand," she laughed hysterically.

"As white as La Blanche's," he returned cruelly; and went away leaving her alone with their

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child.

When she could hold a pen in her hand, she sent a despairing letter to Madame Valmonde.

"My mother, they tell me I am not white. Armand has told me I am not white. For God's sake tell them it is not true. You must know it is not true. I shall die. I must die. I cannot be so unhappy, and live."

The answer that came was brief:

"My own Desiree: Come home to Valmonde; back to your mother who loves you. Come with your child."

When the letter reached Desiree she went with it to her husband's study, and laid it open upon the desk before which he sat. She was like a stone image: silent, white, motionless after she placed it there.

In silence he ran his cold eyes over the written words.

He said nothing. "Shall I go, Armand?" she asked in tones sharp with agonized suspense.

"Yes, go."

"Do you want me to go?"

"Yes, I want you to go."

He thought Almighty God had dealt cruelly and unjustly with him; and felt, somehow, that he was paying Him back in kind when he stabbed thus into his wife's soul. Moreover he no longer loved her, because of the unconscious injury she had brought upon his home and his name.

She turned away like one stunned by a blow, and walked slowly towards the door, hoping he would call her back.

"Good-by, Armand," she moaned.

He did not answer her. That was his last blow at fate.

Desiree went in search of her child. Zandrine was pacing the sombre gallery with it. She took the little one from the nurse's arms with no word of explanation, and descending the steps, walked away, under the live-oak branches.

It was an October afternoon; the sun was just sinking. Out in the still fields the negroes were

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picking cotton.

Desiree had not changed the thin white garment nor the slippers which she wore. Her hair was uncovered and the sun's rays brought a golden gleam from its brown meshes. She did not take the broad, beaten road which led to the far-off plantation of Valmonde. She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her thin gown to shreds.

She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along the banks of the deep, sluggish bayou; and she did not come back again.

Some weeks later there was a curious scene enacted at L'Abri. In the centre of the smoothly swept back yard was a great bonfire. Armand Aubigny sat in the wide hallway that commanded a view of the spectacle; and it was he who dealt out to a half dozen negroes the material which kept this fire ablaze.

A graceful cradle of willow, with all its dainty furbishings, was laid upon the pyre, which had already been fed with the richness of a priceless layette. Then there were silk gowns, and velvet and satin ones added to these; laces, too, and embroideries; bonnets and gloves; for the corbeille had been of rare quality.

The last thing to go was a tiny bundle of letters; innocent little scribblings that Desiree had sent to him during the days of their espousal. There was the remnant of one back in the drawer from which he took them. But it was not Desiree's; it was part of an old letter from his mother to his father. He read it. She was thanking God for the blessing of her husband's love:—

"But above all," she wrote, "night and day, I thank the good God for having so arranged our lives that our dear Armand will never know that his mother, who adores him, belongs to the race that is cursed with the brand of slavery."

Project Gutenberg's The Awakening and Selected Short Stories, by Kate Chopin http://www.gutenberg.org/files/160/160-h/160-h.htm#link2H_4_0047

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Alternative endings…

By Asalis

When Désirée woke up, she tried to sum up what had just happened to her. She remembered

being left alone by Armand, with her baby in her arms. She remembered running after her

husband who had taken the horse. She saw herself falling on her knees crying, the baby

screaming, afraid of all the noise. La Blanche running towards her and helping her up and

leading her to her room and lying the baby back in its bed. For a moment, Désirée sat on her

bed bewailing until La Blanche lied her down so she could get a little rest.

She remembered waking up the next morning with two letters on her bed table. The first one

was a letter by Armand telling her to leave as quickly as possible. He did not want to see either

her or her baby ever again. Not a tear came. She could not cry, she had cried so much the day

before. All she did was sit still for a moment on the bed, her eyes on the letter, before opening

the second letter. This time it was a letter by Ms. Valmondé. The woman was apparently aware

of what was happening to the baby and she was asking Desirée to visit her. It was not an offer

that the young woman could refuse, so after taking everything that was hers, she left the

house.

Arriving at the Valmondés, she waited a moment before leaving the carriage. She had the

feeling Armand was there and he was the last person she wanted to see.

As she walked past the door, Mrs. Valmondé walked straight towards her.

“Oh my dear!!!” she cried.

She took Désirée in her arms and the young woman started sobbing in the lady’s arms.

As she looked up she could see Armand standing in the corridor. Was it shame in his eyes? Or

sadness? None of them. Désirée realized that her husband was confused, as if there was

something terrible he could not understand. Of course, his baby was black. But there was

something else.

“Don’t cry my dear, said Mrs. Valmondé after a while, the problem does not come from you,

but from your husband, Armand.”

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By Christel

Never after that did Désirée see her husband again. After a few months of anxiety, filled with

tension and despair for a sentence that would transfigure her future, Désirée received a letter.

It was an official document: a marriage annulment paper. As she read it, Désirée shattered to

the ground. She could barely breathe and the world around her suddenly felt oppressing and

asphyxiating. The baby who was quietly sleeping in the background began to cry as if it had

been awaken by the deafening sound of his mother’s heartbreak.

After being discarded in such a manner, Désirée decided, despite the shame of moving

back home.

One afternoon, as Désirée was cleaning out an old room for the baby, she fell upon a

letter. A love letter. It had been sent to one of the servants, Marie. What was even more

surprising was the signature at the bottom, Mr. Valmondé.

Désirée who had had her share of anxiety, sadness and a lot of secrets, was on the verge

of having a mental breakdown. She wanted answers. She found Mr. Valmondé in his office like

most afternoons. As soon as she had briefly interrogated him she saw the look in his eyes. That

look answered all the questions that could cross her mind.

She was his daughter, legitimate and illegitimate at the same time.

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By Haruka

A few hours later, when Mr. Valmondé came back to the house, he couldn’t find his wife

anywhere.

He searched everywhere and asked the servants but no one in the house had seen Désirée or

their baby. Mr. Valmondé was desperate. Where could they have gone? was the baby his child?

How could they not have a “white” child?

A few weeks later, it was still impossible to find his lost wife and the baby. All the policemen,

the entire Valmondé family had abandoned the search for his wife.

Mr. Valmondé felt sick, he went slowly into his bedroom and lay down, and then he noticed for

the first time that there was an old piece of paper stuck inside his wife’s night table. It was a

letter written by his wife just before she had disappeared to an unknown man named Jake.

“I think this will be the last letter that I will write to you. I gave birth three month ago, it’s a

baby boy who looks just like you. Armand, my husband is such a nice man but I don’t know if he

wants to raise this child with me… I am wondering if I should leave this house and live my life

with you again.

Please take care and I will take good care of our baby so don’t worry about us.”

Désirée

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By Charlotte N.

She stood there, pale faced and motionless, for five whole minutes. She couldn’t believe that

her once loving husband could be so cruel to her. Then, she picked up the baby and marched

directly to her husband’s office.

“Armand”, she called in a croaky voice.

He turned around and looked at her blankly.

“I understand this came as a shock to you, it did to me too, but I beg of you to try and

overcome this for our baby’s sake.”

“No”, he answered sharply.

“That disgrace is not my baby nor are you considered my wife anymore. I feel nothing but

hatred towards you for having brought upon my household such a sin. Just leave, go, don’t

even consider looking back.”

She did as she was told and stormed off. No longer in possession of her husband’s love, she felt

as if her life didn’t have any meaning anymore and, with her baby still in her arms, leapt into

the streaming river.

Meanwhile, at the palace, Armand had started emptying the shelves, cupboards and drawers to

rid the place of Désirée’s and the baby’s belongings. While he was sorting through the photos

that he was about to discard he stumbled upon a peculiar photo amongst the rest. He picked it

up and noticed that it was of a black woman cradling a baby who was standing next to a white

man that he realized was his father. Confused, he turned the photo around and on the back

was written in his father’s handwriting “Me, my wife and our new-born son Armand”.

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By Alix Dupas

Désirée was more than confused.

“It means that you are not white”.

The voice of her husband wouldn’t stop repeating this over and over in her head. Armand was

gone, and she was left alone with her “cochon de lait”. “Well, he’s more a “cochon de chocolat”

than a “cochon de lait”!” she thought, laughing hysterically. And she started to cry.

The noise alarmed two young slaves; they came to see what was going on. They saw her crying

over her little child.

“What’s wrong, ‘mam?” asked one of them, even if he had perfectly understood what was

going on.

“I…just…don’t…understand…Why?.. How… is this possible?!” she wondered, while sobbing.

“Is it… the color of the baby’s skin makin’ you cry so?”

“Look! LOOK!” Désirée shouted while showing the child to the slaves. “He’s the same color as

you!”

“Is there a problem with that?” the first slave replied.

“GO AWAY!” She screamed, as she ran towards her bedroom. She slammed the door and

locked herself in, she and the baby.

She didn’t come out until four days later, when her mom came to visit her.

No one knows what she told her foster daughter, but no one saw Désirée and her baby ever

again.

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By Mathieu

Désirée knew that he was never coming back. She knew that she was going to live the rest of

her life in disgrace and shame. She knew that, because of her child, she would never marry

again. She knew that bearing this child to the world would ruin her life forever. She knew that

the best job she could hope for now was that of a servant. She knew all this but what she could

not do was believe it. Her baby was black! That was not only a crime to her family but to

humanity itself. At that time the only thing that she wanted to do was kill the baby, it was not

her fault. She was convinced of that. But she knew that no matter how much she wanted to,

she could not kill the only thing she had left.

Seven years passed, the baby had passed the toddler’s age and had grown into a dynamic

young child. He could not keep still. He often went to play with some of the other mistress’

servants children for fun, but only if they were black. He often tried to go and see the white

boys but they only looked upon him as if he were mad. Even the young four-year-old boys had

no respect for him at all. They would throw sticks and mock him until their mothers came.

However as soon as he got home he started reflecting his mother’s mood and was depressed.

One day there was a knock at the door. He went to open it. He knew that his mother would

never have bothered. When he got there, he found an old lady standing in the doorway, her

face looked very healthy for what her age could have been. She must have been rich. She was

dressed from head to toe in black, expensive clothing. The woman did not even wait for him to

ask her in, she strode past him into the dark, damp room he and his mother spent all of their

time in. Désirée was sitting on a chair, staring into nothingness. The stranger walked straight

towards her and stopped one or two meters away from the chair. Not too close yet close

enough for Désirée to acknowledge her presence. The stranger took a deep breath:

“You remember me, don’t you Désirée. I am Madame Valmondé, your husband’s mother.”

Désirée did not react so the old woman carried on:

“I have even more devastating news for you.”

The young boy wanted to stop her, his mother was already depressed, he wanted to step into

the room and send the stranger out, but he felt that his mother needed to know this.

“I myself am from a rich family, the old lady went on, but my father, for some unknown reason

had no parents either and was also adopted. Just like you. Now, listen closely, when he was in

his fifties my father discovered his own father, a man of slightly darker skin. He told my father

that his great-grandfather was a prince, from some African country, and that his skin was as

black as coal.

“So Désirée, your black child is not your fault, but your husband’s.”

At that Désirée burst into tears, tears of sadness, tears of despair, but, if one looked very

closely, they could notice a tear of relief.

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By Hippolyte

Désirée couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be possible. She was white her skin can prove it. Even if

she had obscure origins, she just couldn’t trust the facts. Suddenly a hypothesis came to her.

What if the black skin of the child came from Armand’s family? But she knew that it wasn’t

possible either, because he was the descendant of one of the oldest and proudest family in

Louisiana in which black people weren’t accepted.

She jumped off her chair and ran after Arman under the cold rainy night leaving her child alone.

After a few minutes she found him in front of a taxi and shouted at him:

“You can’t leave me here with our child without any money, why are you leaving me?” she

asked furiously.

“We’re not from the same world anymore.” he answered calmly.

“I thought you were above those stupid superstitions and these inequalities, I thought you were

different” she retorted despairingly.

“Well I am, but I cannot stay married to a black woman and you know it. It would be terrible for

my parents.” He then went away. Désirée fell down on the sidewalk and cried silently.

By Amy

Désirée sat in the room for a few minutes, maybe hours, in silence. Suddenly, the baby’s cries

made her thoughts go away but then, they came back, again and again. “Why is my baby black?

What have I done? Have I really betrayed my husband? But, if I had, wouldn’t I remember it?”

So many questions she kept asking herself days after days. She started becoming mad, she

knew her husband would never come back with her, but she needed him.

Désirée wasn’t eating anymore, she wasn’t sleeping, and the baby wasn’t helping her at all. One

day, she took her baby to her mother’s house, left it there, went to the wood right next door,

lifted her husband’s gun to her head, and pulled the trigger.

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By Bruno

“As white as La Blanche’s”, he answered cruelly; and went away leaving her alone with

their child. [...]

She stayed there for a long time, the time she thought he would take to come back. She

wondered why he had left: “Is it the Baby’s fault?”; “Does he still love me?”…

Désirée went up and searched some comfort in her husband’s clothes, which still

smelled his perfume, and cuddling his brand new white shirt, she realized that the perfume was

not the usual on.

“It is a Woman’s fragrance!” she said, astonished. She wondered where it could come

from. His pocket seemed to contain something like a paper, a rather thick paper.

She took her time to check if her guess was right, maybe because she tried to guess

what was written on it, or because she needed to prepare herself for what she was going to

discover about her husband.

What she found in this pocket, in this cold December night, was about to change

everything, - every stone building her past, was about to fall, destroying everything she thought

about her husband, and their common life - . She had not seen it yet, but she already knew

what it was all about … She knew... She thought she knew him, at least, but she was not sure

anymore...

What could be worse for a mother, with a child to raise than an unsecure past, with a

husband she could not trust. She could not bear it, so she slept, hoping it would all go away.

She could not. She was not able to sleep. The thought of her husband would prevent her

from managing to close an eye.

The night was calm, until 3h33 a.m., when she stood up, eyes wide opened, with an evil

shine. We could only see the blank of it, the pupil seemed to have disappeared. She went

towards her baby's crib, and took it, as if it was a simple object. Having put it in the kitchen, she

covered the baby with all the flour she could find, while crying tears of blood.

With all the blood flowing down her eyes, she drew an inverted pentagon, encircled by

more blood – A perfect hand-made circle by the way, too perfect – And set the Baby at the

center.

La Blanche was watching this scene from a certain distance, with a maleficent smile

after having given a knife to Désirée. She had 2 puppets in her hands, one was the exact

silhouette of a baby, while the other seemed to be a mother-shaped woman, holding a sort of

blade-shaped object...

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By Annika

The husband left. Everything was silent. The silence was oppressive. Désirée thought a

lot about what she had just heard. No there wasn’t any silence. Her child was crying; crying so

loudly that we could think that he had understood everything his father had just said. But

Désirée knew that this child was her own. She said, or rather screamed it for everybody to hear

“why me? Why can I not live peacefully with my child? Have you all heard? Yes, this child is my

child! I’m not as crazy as you think.”

A few weeks later Désirée’s husband didn’t come back. Désirée overcame this terrible

event, with a lot of pain but also so much hate. Her look over her child changed, changed for

the rest of her life surely. She thought about her husband every day, every morning, every

night and every evening. She missed him so much.

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By Eléa

Désirée slowly let herself fall on the ground. Great tears rolled down her cheeks and she hid her

face in her arms. This could not be possible. It could not be happening. Everything was going so

well, they were so happy.

A few hours passed without anyone coming into the house. The sun had come down long ago

when the baby had started crying, showing his hunger. Désirée came out of her drowsiness and

fed her child. Then she put him in his crib and went to her own bed without even eating supper.

She told herself that it was surely her last night in that house and that she would be forced to

pass the next one far away from here.

Désirée could not be more right. When the shy sun came out in the morning she knew it would

be a terrible day. Armand entered the house unsteadily and loudly, coming back from a night

he remembered nothing of. He stood in the door frame, staring at his wife with cruel eyes.

Désirée was sitting in a rocking chair, looking out of the window. She was trying her best not to

show how scared she was, afraid of what he would do to her. The baby, as to him, was still fast

asleep and could not imagine one second what was happening.

Armand coughed and walked towards his wife. He spoke with a loud voice, too loud for the

silence present in the house. Désirée knew what was going to come out of her husband's fetid

mouth. She had already imagined a thousand times how he was going to tell her to leave.

Indeed his words were harsh and even though she was prepared, she put her hands over her

ears pleading him to stop. Armand did not care if he harmed her with his insults and continued

humiliating her for long minutes. At last he had finished his hateful speech. Désirée stood up,

rapidly wiped her watering eyes, grabbed her only bag and left the house with her child.

She had nowhere to go, no friends to ask for help. Of course she had thought of her parents but

she was too ashamed now. She would not bear their look full of pity. She would not bear to

have to depend on them again. So Désirée left the region she was raised in and where she had

spent so many joyful years. The young woman did not think for too long and decided to start a

new life in the city of New Orleans.

The months passed and she tried everything she could to always keep her child in a warm place

with enough food for them to eat. She had found a small room and worked as a waitress in a

restaurant. There were hard times when she would think of her old life and think of how nice

and simple it was.

One cold winter day a letter arrived in the small and poorly furnished room where Désirée and

her child were desperately trying to warm themselves up. It was a simple envelope, which could

not come from a rich person. The woman never received any mail, therefore opened it, her

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eyebrows frowning. The more she read, the more her mouth widened, her skin whitened and

her hands shook. When she finished the letter, the paper was already crushed in her hands. She

gazed in the emptiness while the truth appeared so clearly in her head. She could not stand it

anymore and screamed in despair. The baby got scared, and joined his mom in a deafening yell.

They cried and cried as if they would never stop.

Her real baby had been stolen, exchanged with another for money. La Blanche was responsible

for her misery, giving her own baby to Désirée and taking hers to give to a rich family who could

not have any. La Blanche explained in her letter that her family was terribly poor and they had

no other choice. Désirée howled even more when she thought of these words. What an awful

excuse and an atrocious thing to do! Of course they had had another choice! But now it was too

late... The rich family would never give Désirée her child back and Armand would have already

moved on. This letter made no difference. It just tore the woman in pain to know such injustice

had been made to her. The truth was worse than anything, making Désirée's heart full of

hatred, regrets and distress. The only thing she had left was another woman's child. After many

minutes of dreadful lamentation and despite her situation, Désirée's motherly instinct finally

took over and she tenderly rocked the baby to calm his cries and herself.

18

By Julie

After causing the shame of her husband by giving birth to a half-caste child, Désirée ran away to

her grandmother’s house, knowing that the old lady would welcome her kindly.

Many years later, the baby had grown up, and spent his childhood, with his loving

mother, in a small house near the countryside, isolated from other people. Further to the death

of her grandmother, Désirée raised the little boy alone. However, she never stopped hoping

that Armand would come one day, knocking at the door to admit how much he regretted

leaving her the way he had. She secretly sent him numerous letters trying to convince him to

visit her and his son, but, unfortunately she never received any answer. Even though she knew

he had found another wife and lived his own happy life, she just couldn’t cease loving him.

One day, she finally got an answer to all her letters. She was shaking and had trouble

opening the long-awaited letter. First she felt relieved and excited but then sadness and anger,

that he didn’t respond earlier, took over. She took the paper as gently as she could, she then

unfolded it carefully and at last, she read it. She was quite surprised by the shortness of the

message, after all these years, was that all he had to say? The only thing written was

“We need to talk. I will come on Saturday evening.”

She put it, carefully, back into the envelope and waited until the following Saturday.

Saturday evening came, and, as promised, she heard someone knocking at the door. She

quietly opened it and saw Armand standing there, in front of her. He hadn’t changed at all,

except for a few wrinkles on his face. He stepped in and sat down. After hesitating he told her

what had made him come: one year ago he had found a new wife and they had had a baby.

They discovered that this baby was also half-caste, like the one he had had with Désirée. First

he didn’t really understand why his children were not white and then he understood. His own

ancestors were probably the ones who were black.

He apologized to Désirée but said he couldn’t reveal the truth to anyone else and she

had to keep it secret. If she didn’t, his family and himself would be disgraced and they would

lose all their belongings. He only wanted her to know that it was not her fault if their child was

not white. Désirée replied:

“I understand how you feel but at least you have to tell your son! You have to see him! Wait

here, I’ll wake him up …”

“No! Armand exclaimed, holding her back. “I can’t do this, I can’t take the risk.”

“But you have to! You’re his father! He can’t live without knowing who he is!” cried Désirée,

“Please?”

“No one should ever be aware of it.” Armand started panicking. “Coming here was a mistake”

he muttered.

“Don’t be so nervous, it’s alright, he’ll understand, he’s not a child anymore. We can tell him

tomorrow if you think that’s better.”

19

Désirée added:

“Moreover, I’m aware of it now, I’ll have to tell him one day if you don’t.”

Armand kept on repeating:

“I should never have told you! It’s too late now! It was a huge mistake!”

“Calm down Armand” Désirée begged.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t take the risk…”

Armand pulled out a gun out of his jacket and shot Désirée once in the stomach and a second

time in the heart. As she was lying on the floor, Armand looked at her quickly and then got out

of the house, quietly sobbing. He was about to take his car when he heard something, a soft

weeping sound. He turned around and saw, through the window, a little boy crying above

Désirée’s lifeless body. Armand noticed how much the child looked like him. Realizing he

couldn’t stay any longer, because the police wouldn’t take long to arrive, he got into his car and

drove away.

By Juliane

After her husband had left her, Désirée cried for three days and nights. She realized she

was going to be judged the rest of her life because of her baby who was so different from her

and Armand. They were both white, she was black, they had blonde straight hair with blue

eyes, she had black curly hair with brown eyes, they had an upturned nose and she had a big

crushed nose. Désirée couldn’t possibly keep her daughter whom she now considered as a

monster even though she still loved her. Thus she tried to find the best solution for her baby

and herself, and she did.

Two days later, she gathered all her personal belongings. She took her baby I her arms

and walked through the small town where she now lived. Everybody in town made fun of her

and started insulting her because she had a baby who had a different skin color. The women

were gossiping and the men were pushing her. Désirée ran through the town to go to the

forest. Once there, she kissed her baby and hugged her very tightly. She finally decided to

abandon her lovely child in the woods because she did not want to raise a girl who was far too

odd to be part of Désirée’s family.

To get back home Désirée had to go through the town again. The problem was, the

people noticed she did not have her baby. They chattered with each other and decided to call

the police. Meanwhile, Désirée had time to go home and she did something terrible. When the

police got to her house to arrest her for abandoning her baby in the woods, they found Désirée

hanging from a rope, blood dripping on the floor. The policemen investigated and deduced that

Désirée had taken her life away because she couldn’t take care of her child even though she

had abandoned her in the woods.

20

By Clémence

Désirée was downstairs. She heard a lot of noise so she went to the second floor and she

discovered Armand who had just finished packing his clothes. At first he didn’t see her as she

was standing behind him. She didn’t make a sound or a movement. Désirée was still chocked.

She couldn’t speak. Armand finished packing up his last socks. He pretended not to see Désirée.

He ran downstairs but suddenly stopped in front of the closed door. Désirée joined him and sat

on the last step of the stairs. No one spoke for about five minutes. Then she started crying.

Armand looked at her, gave her a last kiss on the forehead, took his suitcase and left the house.

A few days later, the neighborhood knew... Everyone said that apparently Armand was far

away.

Ten month later, someone knocked on the door. Désirée opened it. It was a young lady with

something in her arms. Both were standing on the porch. Désirée ask her:

“Hello, how can I help you?

“Hello, I am Carry, I want to talk to you about your husband.”

“Yes, please come inside and have a seat.”

“Thank you”

They both sat on the sofa. Carry started speaking again:

“I heard about your story and your baby…”

“Yes?”

“And apparently I have the same problem.”

“Which problem?”

“I’m French”, Carry took a deep breath, “and I’m sure that I didn’t have black African origins, so

I can’t have a black baby.”

“Here is John, the new son of your husband.”

Désirée was shocked, we met ten months ago and John came but I didn’t understand. But then

I made a connection between Armand and your story ,which was the same, so, I came here to

tell you that maybe my Armand was also yours and you didn’t have African origins but he had.

Armand doesn’t know that John was born. We only stayed six months together.”

Désirée came closer to look at the new born baby. She couldn’t believe it. She was disoriented.

All these months thinking that she had lost everything, family and friends. No one had talked to

her until that day.

“Let me think!” Désirée answered.

She went upstairs and Carry heard a dreadful noise.

21

By Estelle

Désirée needed to sit down and think. She wanted to hold him back but her legs would not

move. Désirée was still thinking when La Blanche came.

“Madame Désirée, supper is served, you need to come and eat. This is only a ridiculous

fight. You’ll see, tomorrow is a new day.”

La Blanche looked guilty. Maybe it was La Blanche’s fault and not the baby’s? At the

time when the baby was born, she could have exchanged some baby from one of her friends

when it wasn’t too obvious. She looked at her servant with tears in her eyes and anger.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Désirée burst out.

La Blanche stayed behind her without understanding what was happening. However she

followed her mistress with the babies in her arms. Désirée looked at her with no recognition

and she glared at her. Anyway, it was not her baby after all; she would give it back.

Dinner was endless. She wasn’t comfortable at all and Armand didn’t talk to her. At

some point she felt sick of the situation and finally said:

“Armand, I’m sorry for the trouble I caused. However I’m making you a promise, I will

make things right.”

He didn’t look at her, she wanted to come and tell him her whole plan. But she was

scared. He might not agree and send her away. She went into her room with the baby in her

arms. She put the baby on the bed and looked at him for a second. He was smiling and

laughing… He looked so happy. Just the idea of what she was about to do made her wonder.

When La Blanche came, the baby was nowhere to be found. She took off the pillow from

his face. With majesty she opened the door and looked at the criminal in front of her

disrespectfully.

In Armand’s bedroom everything was in order, and when Désirée came, she felt her

world was finally right again. The baby was dead and La Blanche was gone. She decided to wait

for her husband, but when she looked at the light on the table, she saw a letter.

“Armand, Armand, Armand… I knew you would not be mad at me forever…” she said to

herself. Désirée took the ‘love’ letter and opened it, smiling. As she read it, she understood.

Finally Armand arrived in the bedroom, quite annoyed; he looked around the room

looking for something when he realized no lights were on, and the letter his mother had sent

him a few months before was on the floor. He went to the window and saw Désirée up on the

edge of the window. He understood.

“Désirée, I am so sorry… I should have told you, please get down and come to me.” He

said, begging her.

“I’m sorry Armand, but that’s it, it’s the end. You’re right, you should have told me, but

it’s too late.” She cried.

22

“Listen to me, the problem wasn’t you or the baby, but me, please don’t do something

you would regret. I love you, please?” He had tears in his eyes, and she believed it was the first

time she had seen him cry. Tears were drowning down her face and before jumping she

retorted: “I love you too.”

23

By Lucie

That next morning Désirée woke up wanting to know what had changed with her husband and

why he was acting so differently. After getting up and eating as usual she went to see the

gardener, Mr. James, who was busy mowing the lawn. Since she had been a little girl Mr. James

had always been very kind to her. She went up to him and asked him if he had noticed anything

different in the last few days. Deep in her heart she did not want him to know anything about

her husband that would hurt her. But even if she was expecting an answer, she was surprised

to hear that a man claiming to be her grandfather had come to her home a few days ago asking

to see her. The old man told her that he had gone to find her but that on his way he had ran

into her husband and told him instead that a black man at the door wanted to see her. He

explained that he had listened while Mr. Aubigny had sent the man away and told him never to

come close to his family ever again.

After hearing this story Désirée felt happy and angry at her husband at the same time. For the

rest of the day she wondered who that man was and why he had come to meet her. She had

not seen her husband all day and when she finally saw him talking to one of the maids near the

kitchen, a rush of anger invaded her at the sight of him. She waited until after supper to talk to

him and ask for his side of the story. When, at last, they were left alone in the living room she

went up to him and asked:

“Armand, why did you not tell me that a man claiming to be my grandfather had come to see

me?”

“Désirée”, he answered, “if that man is your grandfather it would explain why our baby is black,

you have black ancestors, you have black ancestors, you have black ancestors!”

He started shouting.

Désirée could not find the words to express how she was feeling. She felt betrayed by the man

she had fallen in love with and married. He was ashamed of where she came from. The

conversation ended with Armand leaving the room and telling her to leave their house

immediately and to take the child with her, he never wanted to see them again.

Désirée found herself not knowing where to go when she realized that that man was a lead to

finding her roots. She went the see the old gardener to ask him if the man had given him an

address of some sort and he had. Désirée thanked Mr. James and left her house.

She found the place written on the piece of paper easily and knocked on the door, full of

apprehension and excitement. A man who seemed to look just like Mr. James’ description

opened the door. He seemed very surprised to see her but asked her in with a very big smile on

his face.

“Hello”, she said, “I am Désirée and this is your grandson!”

From that day on he became the most important part of her life.

24

By Tasio

“Do you really want me to go?” Désirée moaned.

“I do” Armand answered in a deep and harsh voice.

So she turned back, still hoping that he would call her back. She said desperately “Adieu”,

but she never got an answer. So she just took the baby and went out. The sun was starting to

disappear in this shady fall afternoon. Armand watched her crossing the cotton fields and going

away with her, her child, their child. But he did not notice she was for the first time in her life

feeling what real humiliation was, it was not comparable with any feeling she had ever

experienced before, and now understood as she walked away staring at the black slaves

working in the plantation she actually only felt less than a third of what these cotton

plantations workers had felt before. Armand never had any regrets nor hope to see her once

again in his life, he even threw away their love letters, her gifts and all the paintings of her face

seemed to be haunting the whole house, so he burned them, judging them improper.

Meanwhile, Désirée was walking the land looking for a new home. She did not want to go

anywhere where anybody knew her. That was too heavy a burden for her to carry. She walked,

walked, breaking her thin shoes and then she started walking barefoot, grazing her bleeding

feet which made her quest for a new house seem everlasting. Thus, when she found a little

abandoned farm house she thought her life was going to take a new start, but no. The

memories, the nostalgia of her time with her husband, everything made her wear heavy boots,

and so her mind started twisting. She knew she was becoming crazy, but she could not help it.

She died on a misty Monday morning, leaving her child to starve, and nobody heard from them

again nor cared.

25

By Juliette

The door slammed and Desiree collapsed on the floor. She started screaming and blamed the

world for what had happened to her. The air around her was asphyxiating and oppressing

making her unable to breath. The maids ran up to her worried by the state she had put herself

in, and brought her up to her room. After sleeping for two long days, Desiree had woken up and

asked for her child. Holding the child in her arms, Désirée asked Zandrine, the housemaid who

was sitting in the corner of room, if she had heard any news from her husband. From that

moment, she knew he would never be coming back.

After months of being tormented by the disappearance of her husband, she decided to leave

the house in which she had built a life of unforgettable memories with Armand.

Désirée had left to her parents’ place which she had inherited.

Years passed by, and the child had now grown into a young gentleman. Never knowing whom

his father was or why he didn’t have the same color of skin as his mother; the boy starting to

doubt whom he was. One day, while he was exploring his grandfather’s belongings, he found a

letter which it was addressed to a slave working in the cotton fields of his grandfathers’ farm.

That day, he finally knew the answer that was kept from him for all this time, his father’s

mother was a slave…

26

By Célymène

Désirée remained quiet hopping that her husband would turn round and come back to her but

he didn’t. The way he left, turning his back without a word or a glance, she knew she had lost

him forever.

Now she understood why he despised her. He now knew she had black ancestors or, at least

that’s what he thought.

The poor woman couldn’t imagine a worse scenario. Désirée knew that if her husband had

shared his thought with others, her life would have been ruined. Additionally, she loved her

husband more than her own life and couldn’t imagine a world without him. It would be a lost

cause to try to convince him and she knew that.

Then, she took an irrevocable decision. Her mind was absolutely clear when she killed herself

the following day. She left the baby as the single memory of her.

27

By Ishani

Desiree felt as if the ground was swept off from beneath her feet. She got a feeling that she,

never in a million year, wanted to feel. Abandoned. Her glance was stuck expectantly at her

husband, who had an expression filled with disgust and disappointment. She was no psychic,

but it didn’t take tremendous effort for her to understand what would happen in the future

with her husband. She followed him out of their room as he barged out the exit.

“No, stop!” she cried, which made her husband stop dead in his tracks.

She let out a small sigh, with tears filling in her eyes.

“I think it is quite conspicuous what you’re thinking.” Désirée managed to mumble out, letting

out a deep breath. It hit her like a car. That she was going to lose the one and only person she

wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She knew that she would lose the feeling of pride that

she used to relish, when she talked about her husband to other people in pride. Or when, she

used to share joyful moments with him during the afternoon tea.

Désirée approached him, slightly keeping her one hand on his back, whispering softly as her

voice started cracking.

“This attitude has left me speechless. I understand that you’re feeling betrayed, but so am I.

And you would never understand why. You can’t.”

Her husband turned around to face her, with subtle tears filling his eyes too.

“How could you lie to me?” he muttered under his breath. Her eyes widened as she shook her

head vigorously.

“No, dear, trust me, I never did. This is just as much as a mystery for you, as it is for me. But I

can certainly guarantee you one thing, that I am not ashamed of myself. I was born by myself,

but I carry the blood of my ancestors. My history began before I was born. You do not know the

privilege you have, to know where you come from. What your roots are. And if you want to

leave me and our child because of my roots...I will not stop you.” she said, whispering the last

sentence.

Désirée’s husband blinked a couple of times. There was a moment of utter silence which spread

in the air. Before he spoke up,

“Let us go for a walk, dear. And let’s take the little one too.”

28

By Matilda

Désirée tried to catch up with Armand but he didn't want to hear anything. She was so

desperate and so sad that she sat crying for hours. Madame Valmondé came into her room to

talk to her and to try to comfort and calm her down.

“I tried to explain it to your husband, dear, I really did...” she said very sorry.

“What exactly did you tell him? That my baby was going to be half-caste?” replied Désirée

angrily. Madame Valmondé showed some regret and stood without saying anything.

After a few minutes of silence, Désirée added

“Besides how did you know? I thought you'd never seen my parents or my grandparents. I

thought you didn't know anything about my social and family background. Have you been lying

to me since childhood?” Désirée shouted feeling more and more furious against her “mother”.

She could sense now that Madame Valmondé had lied to her for ages.

“Didn't it cross your mind to inform me first, knowing that my husband was racist?” the young

girl asked. Madame Valmondé had no idea how to justify herself and was becoming aware that

a huge secret was about to be revealed.

“Mother”, Désirée said, “if you said to Armand there were half-castes in your family, it means

I'm your blood and you're my real mother? Am I right mother? I'm your daughter.” concluded

Désirée, absolutely devastated. Not only was she discovering she and her baby weren't white

but also she wasn't an adoptive child.

As tears were rolling down Madame Valmondé's face, Désirée was trying to gather her

thoughts back together. “I must go mother, Armand is the love of my life but I have to sacrifice

my heart to make sure my baby will always be kept away from his racist father.”

29

By Suzanne

Désirée did not utter a word. After her husband had left the room, she started shaking,

with tears dropping out of her eyes uncontrollably. They kept rolling down her cheeks. After

she calmed down, she stayed in her bed for a long time, just contemplating the life she had. She

held the baby hard in her arms and put him back in his cradle with a kiss on his forehead. She

left the bedroom and guided herself to the living room where her husband was standing. They

stared at each other intensely, but Armand quickly left the house, slamming the door. Désirée

had to sit down. The silence reigning in the room was stopped by the sound of the pouring rain

outside.

A week later, Désirée received a letter. It was from an attorney; Armand wanted a

divorce. At that particular moment, Désirée knew her life would never be the same; she and her

baby boy had to move far away from there. She went to her room, packed her clothes, took

some money and left her hometown with the baby.

Désirée never looked back at her old life nor ever tried to find the answer to why was

her baby a half caste. She had a new man in her life, who loved her and accepted her obscure

origins and the baby’s. She was happy at last.

30

By Emma

As her husband left, Désirée broke into tears. Once she had calmed down, she wondered what

her husband was going to do now. Would he leave her? Would he kill the baby? But another

question came up, why on earth was that baby half-caste? She entirely wrapped the baby in

white sheets and went to her adopted mother’s home.

She arrived there, the eyes still red. As soon as her mother saw her, she knew something

was happening. There was no need to talk. Désirée unwrapped her child and showed it to her

mom. She was so surprised that she couldn’t utter a word. She looked at Désirée, then at the

baby and again at Désirée, she did that a couple of times before sitting down. Silent tears were

rolling down Désirée’s cheeks. Her mom opened her mouth as she was about to talk but closed

it right away. A few minutes later, she understood the only way to find out why that baby was

half-caste was to research Désirée’s roots.

A few days later, Désirée was feeding her half-caste baby when she heard someone

knocking on the front door. Her husband, whom she hadn’t talked to since they found out their

baby wasn’t white, opened the door to a middle aged and tall man. He asked for Désirée and

her husband lead him to her room. The man introduced himself as the person in charge of the

national archives and told her that Madame Valmondé had asked him to do some research

about her ancestors. Désirée put the baby back in his cradle and asked the man to follow her to

the living room, offering him tea. Once seated, Désirée asked him what he had found.

As the interview was over, Désirée rushed to her mom’s house. She told her what she

had just learned. The man had found her parents and searched back up many generations but

none of her ancestors were black. But what if it wasn’t about Désirée’s past but about her

husband’s?

31

By Kim

Désirée just sat there without knowing what to do. She couldn’t believe what Armand had just

said. How could she not be white? Désirée decided to write to her mother and find out the

truth. So she took a pen and a piece of paper and wrote: “Dear Mother, I need to ask you a very

important question. Am I or am I not white? Armand says I am not because of our baby. Please

tell me. Your Désirée.”

It had been days since she had sent the letter to her mother but still there was no sign of any

form of answer. She asked herself the same question over and over again every day. She had

also asked Armand if what he had said was what he thought but he did not say. In the cold and

dark little kitchen, Désirée looked out the window for the nurse and her child: they were

playing in the garden. You could see the innocent look on the baby’s face. Désirée thought

“Who am I?”

The next morning, when Désirée woke up, Armand was standing in front of the window turning

his back to her. Anxiously she asked “Is everything okay darling?

“You got an answer from your mother. I opened it, I hope you don’t mind.”

“I see it?”

She took the letter from Armand’s hands and read “Dear beloved, why don’t you come over to

my house with your child and we shall talk about it.” Désirée looked up at her husband. He

turned around and said in a very low voice “Go”. So she stood up and went outside to find her

baby lying in the grass, his eyes half closed, half open. She took him in her arms, looked over to

the nurse and just went back inside without any explanation. Armand was still there looking out

the window. “Should I go?” He didn’t answer, but as she walked out from the house she was

still hoping he would tell her to stay, but he didn’t. So off she went, wearing nothing else but

her nightgown and her shoes.

Several hours later she arrived at her mother’s house. She knocked on the door, and went in.

Her mother was sitting in a big fluffy chair in front of the fire reading a book. She turned around

to her daughter, stood up and hugged her and the baby. She then looked at the child with her

tiny shiny blue eyes, and said “You look just like your father”.

32

By Margaux

Désirée couldn't believe it. How was this possible? How could she have missed that? But worst

of all... Why hadn't anybody told her? So many thoughts rushed to her head at once, and they

scared her more and more...Where had her husband gone and was he ever coming back? She

couldn't deal with this right now. She had to be there for her lovely baby. She loved him so

much. She put all her other feelings aside, concentrating only on him. The next few months of

her life were the worst she had ever been through. She still hadn't seen her husband. She

hardly left her apartment, La Blanche doing everything for her and the baby.

Then, one day, everything changed, her beloved husband came back. He actually looked

happy, this scared Désirée. She knew something was wrong, she didn't dare say anything.

“I have a solution.” he said. “No hello?”

“I didn't know there was a problem.” She answered, trying to keep her voice as steady as

possible.

“Well...you know...the baby.” He whispered, almost ashamed.

This made her heart sink, he considered their baby, the single person she loved the most in this

world, a problem. How did this happen to me?

And he explained his horrid plan.

“NO!” She screamed at him. He seemed surprised, had he thought she would agree? Did he

think she would give her baby away? At that moment, for the first time ever, she hated him.

She didn't know what to say or do, he had threatened to follow it through whether she was

willing or not but what if La Blanche wasn't willing to? Would he force her to adopt their baby?

Désirée refused to take that chance. She went to sleep that night knowing exactly what she was

going to do. The next morning, Armand Aubigny woke up, without his wife and baby. Alone.

He would never see either of them again.

33

By Valentine

Désirée let her husband leave, watching him dissipate from her view as he walked out the door

of the house. Once the blurry figure was completely gone she fell to the floor, her body went

numb and she realized she was shaking violently. The tears streamed down her face and a

scream escaped from her throat. She had lost her husband, nothing would be the same

anymore but she had to protect the child, it was hers after all. The dark slowly took over the

city as Désirée rocked her child to sleep in her arms. She kissed his forehead and put him to

bed.

She stood in the living room, stoic, waiting for her husband to return. Maybe he would come

back? Maybe it was all a really bad dream and they would become a happy family again? After

a couple of hours her knees gave in so she went to sleep. Armand on the other hand was still

walking in the city, the sounds of the city were buzzing in his ears as his eyes were lost in

emptiness. Before he knew it, he was back home, in front of the door. Opening the door,

walking in, taking off his shoes. All these movements were usual, he didn’t feel a thing. He

walked in the child’s room and watched him sleep. His chest was slowly going up and down. He

was breathing. Armand got closer and laid a hand on his warm forehead, he was breathing, he

was alive. And then he realized. That was the problem, everything became clear.The child was

the problem, he was the reason him and his wife were breaking apart. Armand’s hands found

their way to the child’s neck and it woke him up, blinked and his chocolate brown eyes opened.

He was awake, he was alive. His hands closed tighter around the infant’s small neck, it was so

fragile, he could break him so easily. The child’s pulse was going faster and faster, and the

husband let out a monstrous scream as he squeezed both his hands around the child’s neck.

He kept his hands there. One long minute passed and a last sigh slipped out from in between

his lips. The child was dead.

Désirée woke up as she heard the scream, she quickly jumped to her feet and ran to the child’s

room, he was still in his bed but the window was wide open.The moon was the only ray of

light visible in the dark. ”Armand… ?” she called out but there was no reply, she slowly got

closer to the bed and looked down at the child, something was wrong. She picked him up and

instantly understood what had happened, Armand had murdered her child, their child. She

wanted to scream but her voice cracked. Tears quickly filled her eyes as she held the child close

to her chest, waiting desperately for it to breathe again. When she finally understood it

wouldn’t happen she got up and walked out the door. She didn’t know where she was going,

her mind wandered. As she walked, she whispered in the child’s ear

“Don’t worry mommy is coming very soon.”

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By Aymie

Désirée wanted to cry. She knew she should not but every time she thought about how her life

had fallen apart in a few hours, contradictory emotions overwhelmed her like a fire wave.

She thought about everything, like begging Armand to come back, or killing herself, even

running away to an unknown country far away from the aristocracy and their stupid shame. But

after a while, when reason started to come back to her mind she realized Armand was not

worth killing herself for.

A few weeks later she came back home, he real home with the Valmondés. They welcomed her

with pleasure. But she was sad. Her baby was black; Désirée did not mind the color, only the

horrible things people attributed to that color. But he would be loved. By her. All this time

spent alone in her room made her think. After all, the worst thing that could happen in a life

was not to be loved. “Her mother will always be there for him.”

“Maybe it was him!”

This thought woke her up in the very middle of the night. She was thrilled. “Maybe it was him

who had African roots!” She knew she had no proof but he had no proof either. Maybe that is

why he was so upset. In a corner of her mind she knew every aristocrat would be even more

than upset if his child was black.

That night she woke up and went to find her ex-husband. He was crying in the garden of the

house they had both left. He could not bear being there alone, Désirée knew that. She also

knew that he had bought a new house for the new life he would live. When he saw her, he

jumped to his feet to hug her.

Désirée was remembering this wonderful moment in their bed. Armand was quietly snoring on

her left side. He had cried all night long. He told her that he made a big mistake, and that it was

him who had African origins. She forgave him at the first sight of his red eyes and nose, knowing

that he was really in despair. But again she knew she should not have spoken to him. But she

loved him. And she loved her baby. She could not let the little boy without a strong father to

educate him, to play with him. And her husband was really sorry. She was sure of it because she

knew him. Désirée knew Armand was afraid of having a black baby because of his own

education. The education they surely would not give to their child. This was a new generation.

She smiled. Armand opened his eyes and smiled back at her.

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By Charlotte S

Désirée was devastated. How could she not have noticed it before? How could she have been

so blind? She immediately asked Zandrine to send a message to her mother, saying that she

needed her in the house as soon as possible. Désirée’s mind was very troubled, she felt so lost

and sad, and she did not understand what was happening to her. She locked herself in her

room and cried, repeating to herself that it was not her fault. Madame Valmondé arrived the

next day, the first thing she did was to run to her daughter. While being told the story, Madame

Valmondé gave her little girl homemade gingerbread that she knew to be her favorite. Désirée

refused to eat, “I was always with my little boy, except several weeks before your last visit

because I was extremely sick but Zandrine took care of him then, what did I do wrong mom?”,

she sobbed. Hearing this date, something sprang to Madame Valmondé’s mind, there was

something special about that date. Indeed, the old lady had been astonished at the sight of her

grandson that day. He had changed so much in such a short time. Madame Valmondé also

remembered Zandrine’s strange behavior, avoiding eye contact, and how she had been

disturbed by both of these facts.

Having seen how miserable Désirée was, the old mother decided to stay a few more days. She

spent the whole afternoon taking care of her, and the two women did not leave the room. In

the evening, Désirée fell asleep and the old woman contemplated the oak trees that she could

see behind the window, she was always amazed at these splendid trees, shivering as the wind

passed through their leaves. However, tonight she could not enjoy this sight entirely, having an

absurd idea on her mind. To be sure, she went to see Zandrine, who was feeding the child in

the huge living room. “Good evening”, she greeted Zandrine in a cold voice. “You certainly do

spend a lot of time with this baby”, she continued without leaving her time to answer. Zandrine

nodded and asked if Madame wanted to be alone with the child. She spoke quickly in a high

tone and seemed extremely tense. The white mistress replied sharply that she actually wanted

to talk to her. “Of course”, the other woman said in a shaking voice. Zandrine seemed so

scared. She was now scratching her arms frenetically and her eyes were moving from her

mistress to the door as if she wanted to escape. “You know, Zandrine, there is a shocking

resemblance between you and my grandson”, she had pronounced the last word as if they

were poisonous. The frenzied domestic was in an indescribable state, she was breathing very

loudly and way too fast. The white woman’s thoughts having been confirmed by Zandrine’s

terror, she shouted at her “where is my grandson?” Zandrine burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, I

thought it was the best thing to do”, she kept on repeating. Forcing her to calm down, Madame

Valmondé made Zandrine tell her the whole story. It had occurred a week before her last visit,

the baby had been contaminated by Désirée’s disease just as she had feared and even if

Zandrine had done all she could to heal him, the baby had died. Zandrine knew that it would

affect Désirée so much that she would want to die too. To avoid this, she had not told her

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anything and had replaced the baby with her own child, who was exactly the same age and only

slightly heavier. Madame Valmondé tried to ignore her surprise, her anger, her pain and despite

her will of forgetting everything, she decided to tell everyone the next morning when Armand

would be back.

When the old lady woke up, still exhausted by the last events, she convinced Armand and his

wife to gather in the living room. She then began her long story. When she had finished

speaking, Désirée simply fainted and Armand’s face turned as white as snow. A few hours later,

Désirée and her husband had a conversation. Armand apologized for having reacted so violently

and they eventually took the decision of keeping the child. They loved him so much that they

could not bear the thought of being separated from him. The two young people then had a

quiet lunch, their minds full with mixed feelings. Désirée barely ate anything, even though the

turkey prepared by the cook was delicious as usual. The magnificent wooden table inherited

from Armand’s ancestors was wet with tears. The young mother was desperate by the loss of

her baby. At two o’clock, Armand walked to Zandrine’s room to talk to her. Hearing no

response when knocking on the door, the young man opened it himself carefully. “Zandrine”,

he called with the superior voice he always used when speaking to his servants. The room was

empty so the young master went to look for her around the house. Armand still had not found

her half an hour later. Feeling that something had gone wrong, he suddenly ran to the child’s

room, in which he should have been playing at that time of the day. When he entered the

room, Armand fell on his knees and began to cry, Zandrine and her baby had vanished.

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By Alizée

She's walking.

Everything is dark. She hears a baby crying.

She tries to find where the noise is coming from.

The only thing she wants is to save the baby ...her baby.

Désirée woke up screaming, and crying. She had all the trouble in the world to get her breath

back. It was still dark outside. The moonlight was drawing a nice shape on the floor of the little

room. The only thing she could think about was this terrible dream. It seemed so real. As the

mother she was, she jumped out of her bed just to make sure the baby was all right. What she

saw made her feel exactly how she felt in that dream. Powerless. There wasn't much to see in

that bed. The unexpected thing was, it was empty.

“How... what..?” she couldn't think.

She was obviously not dreaming anymore, so where was he? Désirée came out of the room and

yelled in the corridor:

“Please help! Armand!”

No answer.

She couldn't hear anything. The silent was complete. She could barely breathe. The tears had

run all the way down her cheeks like a waterfall of pain. The woods around the house were

dark and scary but she didn't even care. The only thing that mattered was to find the treasure

of her life. On the floor, close to the fountain, a little note had been left and a viscous liquid

surrounded it. Step by step she got closer to the little note to grab it. The more she got to it, the

less she could believe what she saw right next to it.

“NO!!” she screamed.

Her baby was there. Lying down. Dead.

I couldn't stand it. A black child doesn't have any future in here. I saved him. I spared him a life

of misery and pain and I spared it to my family and I too. By the time you read this, I'll be long

gone. When I get back, I don't want to see anything that belongs to you .

Armand

She was so absorbed by the note that she didn't hear a man sneaking out behind her, with a

bloody knife.

Armand wasn't gone after all...

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By Félix

Mr. Valmondé had been feeling the tension between him and his wife growing for a few

months and he knew that the source of the tension was the baby’s origin. He could not believe

that the baby was his, not only physically but also in the way the child was acting he did not

have the same behavior. They were incompatible.

A few weeks later, things were getting better and his wife was making efforts for him to feel

better, she was reassuring him, saying that she never had any affair. Mr. Valmondé was

beginning to feel better until one day. Désirée had a friend, Mary who was living near the

house, and Désirée and she were drinking tea every weekend, speaking about different topics

and explaining the last events occurring in their lives.

Mr. Valmondé used to let Désirée leave on the Saturday and thought that things would not be

different this time and that Désirée would be back at six o’clock.

At eight, Désirée was still missing and it was not usual for her to be late for dinner especially on

a Saturday.

At ten Mr. Valmondé was worried and decided to visit Mary.

When he arrived Mary was alone and she was surprised to see Mr. Valmondé. He explained the

situation and Mary answered that she was as astonished as he was because Désirée had not

come.

Both of them were frustrated because Désirée was not used to doing anything similar.

Where could she be?

Then an idea came to Mr. Valmondé and as fast has he could, he went back to his house.

Everything was clear to him now. He went to see the slaves and understood.

One of the slaves was missing, Georges, the one whom Désirée was always helping avoid

difficult tasks, the one whom she was sometimes bringing food to…

How could he be so stupid, so blind? He had lost his wife, the person that was the most

important one in the world for him and now the only thing that mattered to him was revenge…

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By Angus

Désirée decided to run after her husband. Anger possessed her. Children in her way cried

when she pushed them to the ground. Her rampage could not be stopped. At the sight of her

husband she jumped. Madness made her close her teeth on Armand’s hand. She was red and

the taste of blood was present on her tongue… Her last vision was Armand taking out

something from his pocket, “BANG”, then nothing…

She woke up and a strong light blurred her vision, and voices sounded so loud… Her second

vision was a large group of people running to her. She was not sure who she was seeing but she

was quite sure a 4/5 year old black boy screaming: “Mama woke up, dad! Mama woke up!”

A man who looked familiar came and said: “What?! Are you sure?!”

“Yes! She looked at me!”

Now I remembered. The man I recognized was a tall handsome black man. I was sure now,

and I was sure. He was Vincent. He was...the postman. That day I had a big argument with

Armand. He came and I had a breakdown in his arms. I remember we kissed and then he said

he loved me. I didn’t answer. A few minutes later, we were kissing.

“Oh! After four years of comma you are finally ready to know!”

“What am I ready for?” Désirée replied, “Where am I?”

“You are in a hospital room, a non-familiar voice answered. You were shot in the head by your

husband. You miraculously survived.”

“How long have I been I here?” Désirée replied shocked.

“Four years.”

“That’s my age popa!”

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By Yassine

She started to tremble. Her heart began to beat faster. She realized Armand was never coming

back, that she would need to start a new chapter of her life. She slowly walked towards her

room and lied on her bed. She calmly grabbed her pillow and hugged the pain out. Great tears

ran down her dark cheeks. Suddenly she understood that she would need to escape this chaos.

Even though she didn’t know how, she knew it was the only solution. Two days passed by, and

she had thought of leaving the state and starting a new life somewhere far away from Armand

and her family, but she was still very hesitant over the thought of her keeping her new-born.

She hadn’t yet decided how she would earn the money necessary to raise her child. Another

day full of reflection had gone by, and her natural motherly senses rose, she had finally realized

that the best thing to do would be to take care of the toddler. So she packed as much as she

could for her and the baby, and left without knowing where she was going. She spent weeks

walking unendingly, as both she and the baby were starting to starve; fortunately she joyfully

noticed a sign ‘Jackson, Mississippi’. She went further in the city, her mouth was as dry as a

sunny day in the Death Valley, and her stomach was a roaring lion. She was lost, but as the

sunset was approaching, she luckily found a farmhouse in an area so deserted and so silent it

could be compared to Antarctica. She went in the house and found two dead people. There was

blood everywhere. She was shocked. She then attempted to go on the second floor but the

stares there were eight missing stares … She decided to tidy the house and make it her own,

and ate some dry bread she found on the kitchen table along with some water. Later that week

she found a job as a maid in a school. She wasn’t earning much but she knew it was the only

way her and her son could survive in this world full racism, cruelty and inequalities. Although

she tried she would never be happy around the house, she found her life pointless, the only

motivation she had was her son. A few years had gone by and her son had grown he could talk

and walk, she still couldn’t accept the fact that he was black so she would constantly steal some

papers from the school so she could educate him in her spare time, hoping that one day the

world would change and black people could have access to good jobs. Eventually she got caught

and conclusively she lost her job. She went back home, with tears rushing down her face.

‘Why are you crying momma’ her son asked in a confused manner.

‘Because we can’t eat anymore?’ she replied intriguingly.

‘What do you mean we can’t eat anymore?’ he asked.

‘I got fired because my boss caught me stealing school papers. Now we don’t have any money

to buy food and I won’t be able to teach you anymore’, she cried sadly.

Her son couldn’t think of any other questions, so he just decided to sit down on the only bed

they had. His mother decided to join him and they cuddled for a few minutes before both

falling asleep. The next day they woke up with an empty stomach. The days seemed longer, and

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all they could afford was bread and water with the very low amount of money she managed

saved up whilst working for a few weeks. Eventually, they ran out of money and decided she

that the best thing to do would be to kill her son instead of watching him suffer. So she did, and

came to a conclusion that she had nothing to hold her back now she could finally end all this

nonsense, all of this was now unnecessary. She killed herself.

By Capucine

"Désirée was overwhelmed. She didn't understand what was happening to her baby. At first, she thought that it might be the light of the room which was changing the colour of her baby's skin, but when she carried him outside, the sun rays showed her an even darker skin colour and her horror was only multiplied. Désirée stared at her baby and she couldn't contain some tears which fell on her cheeks. She went into her husband's office and found him sitting on his chair, his arms covering his head. “Armand?” Désirée asked. “Armand?" No answer. "Armand, please, darling, I don't know what happened, I don't know anything more than you do. Please, trust me." Armand did not move, and simply said "You can go. You betrayed me, and I won't ever forgive you." Désirée knelt on the floor and stayed there, crying silently. After a few minutes, she got up, wiped her reddened face, looked a last time at Armand and left. She went into her room, took some clothes, some food in the kitchen, the baby's things, packed that and left the house with the black baby. No one ever heard of Désirée or the baby again. People said that they had probably left the country. As for Armand, he sank into alcohol. But the saddest thing is that none of them would ever know that the baby Désirée and Armand had made grow up during 3 months was another couple's baby, and that their own baby was being mothered by another happy couple, just because of a stupid nurse at the hospital in which Désirée and the woman that had Désirée's baby had given birth."

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