Heroine Confessional

“I’m Okay with the Cost” - Jane Bennet

I don’t have to believe in people. I mean that. I’m the sort of girl that people assume is always happy with people because I just don’t know that they can be wicked and awful and conniving and everything else. Of course I know that. The thing is, someone has to believe in all the people who aren’t all bad yet. Someone has to see the good in them. More importantly, I don’t always care to know if someone’s talking about me behind my back. The rumors are true or they aren’t—it’s as simple as that. We live in a small town. There’s nowhere for the stories to go except to Lizzie, who usually just laughs it off.

“She’ll Never Know I Brought Him Home” - Amy March

I’ve gotten what I wanted and it didn’t always work out for me. It took going to Europe, for free, to realize that I’m never going to be a memorable artist. And while I was there, my big sister Beth, who I’ve shared a room with since I was born, died. I skyped her two days before it happened; she told me that it was better if I finished my trip, because she still believed in who I told her I might become someday. She didn’t tell me if she would be there when I got home.

When I found out Beth had passed away, I didn’t know what to think. Who would believe in my dreams now? At least Beth’s favorite sister, our big sister Jo, got to be there. Marmee told me: Jo was holding Beth’s hand when she died. She felt the last heartbeats in that tiny wrist, and it was her lip gloss the mortician left on the back of her hand. The first night I was alone in our room (it’s nobody’s room now) I drew what I thought their hands must have looked like. When I gave the picture to Jo, she cried against me like she’s never, ever done before. I held her for the first time.

Life Will Always Be Beautiful - Beth March

I’ve been scared of everything for my whole life. I never had a job. I was homeschooled. I once had a panic attack in our front yard because I knew we were going into town and I let myself think about it. Meg sat on the stairs while Jo held me in the grass for an hour. We missed two buses. So I know I should be scared to die. That’s how people know you aren’t crazy, right? If you’re afraid of it. If you don’t trust yourself to go in the dark because of what might be there. But the best believers are the ones who aren’t scared, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I know what's going to happen. It's just a matter of when.

I’ve Only Ever Been in Someone’s Shadow - Kitty Bennet Everyone thinks I didn’t know about what Lydia could do from the beginning. I don’t know why. I’m not stupid. Anyone who spent five minutes with my little sister would know everything there is to know about her. I guess that’s why I liked her so much: I could follow Lydia, and she’d let me keep up with her. Even when we were kids, it was always Jane and Lizzie, me and Lydia. My older sisters only bothered to talk to me when they thought Lydia was doing something especially stupid. Really, they were just talking to her.

Sometimes I Wish I Could Just Fall in Love with Her - Anne Shirley

Before I left home, classmates used to tease me and this guy I know about dating. They’d even write our names on the wall next to each other. It’s ominous. That’s one nice thing about going to Queen’s: no one knows who I am or that I was adopted – and really old, so people used to assume I’d have “behavior problems.” The only weird thing is when people ask whether Diana is my girlfriend. I don’t know what to say to that. 

Don’t get me wrong: Di and I have been inseparable since we met. We’re platonic soulmates. It’s destiny, but we’re not in love. And that’s my problem. I say I have all these high ideals for love, but I think it’s because I’ve never fallen before. Not for anyone. There’s never been a boy or even a girl that’s made me stop and look at them. People think I’m good at friendship, but I just don’t think anyone will stick around long enough for me to matter. Really, honestly: I love Diana, but not like that. I almost wish I did.

I Could Lose Two Sisters in One Day - Meg March

I’ve spent my whole life worried about my little sister Beth. Would she marry? Who’d she marry? Would she be able to find a job? What kind of life could she have? And now, I have to wonder if she’ll have any life at all – anything is better than dying, right? I can’t be sure about that. I can’t be sure at all.

And, for the first time, I’m worried about Jo.

When we were little, I would hear noises downstairs and send Jo to “investigate,” as though that tiny little eight year old could stop whatever imagined monster I’d put in our kitchen. What’s insane is that she could. She’d never come back scared or sad or lonely; even when she came back chilled in the winter she’d put her toes on me and laugh at whatever face I made. Jo wouldn’t know it, but she’s been my rock her whole life. I mean, yes, Jo is unreliable at everything that doesn’t matter, but nobody loves like Jo.

Literary heroines confess secrets from their stories, modernized but allowed to remain timeless.