BY: MRS.

SONIA LEE

I lay in the corner curled up it was too painful to move. Hot tears streamed down my face making small puddles on the board floor. I dared not make a sound as I could hear him moving about in the adjoining bathroom. The voices in my head screamed at me asking the same questions, Why do you allow him to do this?! Why do you stay?! Havent you had enough?! What is your limit?!

What is too much?! I screamed back at the voices telling them to shut up. Enough! Nobody understands and they never will! My eyes were tightly shut, trying to stop the tears. I felt a shadow over me and I trembled. I slowly looked up, carefully so as to not hurt my throbbing neck. There he stood, tall, mighty and handsome as could be, staring at me with a grim look on his face. His expression changed and he chuckled and said, I bet you wont ever try that again. Go clean yourself up. I am going out and dont bother waiting up. Then he left.

I watched as he walked out the room and listened to him going down the stairs. I waited and listened until the car drove out. Then I slowly got up, every bone in my body seemed to ache. It seemed as if each of these encounters was worse than the last. I slowly walked to the bathroom and stood before the mirror with my eyes closed, afraid of what I would see. I could hear my mothers voice in my head, yuh a go gwan til him kill yuh!

I shook my head and screamed aloud, No! I will never let it get
that far! Hearing my own voice frightened me. I opened my eyes and the person I saw looking back at me was barely recognizable. My eyes were swollen to the size of a gulf ball; underneath them was an ugly shade of purple, almost black colour. Blood was dripping down my nose; his finger prints were visible on my cheeks. My once perfect lips looked as if a cherry had grown on the top. I started to cry again. Where

he had grabbed my neck was still outlined and my hair was

matted with blood. I fell to the floor crying and screaming, shutting my eyes ever so tightly wishing it all away.

My mind drifted off to the day I had left the country. I remember vividly what my grandmother was saying to me Memba yuh kin, an nuh figet weh mi always tel yuh, river wata need fi memba weh it a flow from fi reach a sea. A mi grow yuh from yuh likkle an a piss bed till yuh tun big oomam an mi kno mi grow yuh rite so nuh bada go bow fi vanity an gwan like yuh frighten fi town, jus memba seh anytime hard life lik yuh 5 acre a lan deh yah fi yuh plant up so nuh mek nuh man tun u mek preke.

And I had replied Afta mi nuh frighten fi man granny! I didnt know at what point I fell asleep but the sharp pain in my neck told me sleeping on the cold bathroom floor was a bad idea. I got up and went for the house phone and called my family doctor. He doesnt judge me or ask questions he just does exactly what I ask of him. I dialed his number and he picked up on the second ring. Can you please make a house call now? I asked after he answered. My voice was hoarse and raspy. Yes Mrs. Shaw I will be there in twenty minutes.

Thank you, I replied and hung up. I sat on the bed thinking, I looked around, everything about my room was luxurious. The plush interior dcor, the bedroom set, the massive walk in closet filled with designer

clothes and a hundred pairs of shoes. Even the king

sized bed I was sitting on, it was all so posh. Any woman looking in would love to be me, wife of the most elite lawyer. The life I have always dreamt of isnt it? Then why am I being so ungrateful.

He always treats me like a queen and whenever he beats me he always makes it up to me with some designer gift. I should be grateful, shouldnt I? Dr. Chan came, treated me and left. He wasnt like those other doctors asking the obvious. How else could I have gotten a black eye and have finger prints all over my body? Really, dont these doctors think that being abused by someone you love is embarrassing enough? Dr. Chan understands and its as if his understanding heals the wounds a little faster. Though, sometimes I wish I could talk to him because I really have no one else to turn to; I have neglected my family and my friends for so long that even if I should decide to leave I would be alone.

Who would take care of me? I cant afford to be poor again. I cant run back to the country crying to mama. I dont think

I could ever admit to anyone the things I have been

through. Maybe this marriage is a little more that I can bear. Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted when I saw

my husband standing at the doorway, with flowers, a card

and a box of my favorite chocolate in hand. He had an apologetic smile I simply could not resist. As he walked

towards me apologizing and crying begging me never to

leave him, I remembered the vows we made before God, Until death do us part.

Until Death Do Us Part - Analysis

The narrative piece Until death do us part tells the tale

of an abused wife after a altercation with her husband. In this story, various language strategies were used. Namely communicative behaviours which included proxemics, gestures, vocalics and artifacts. In addition to these, Dialectal Variation was spoken by the characters. Throughout the story communicative behaviours were used profusely, this is most evident in the first paragraph. As the story began the narrator, Mrs. Shaw, stated that she lay curled up in the corner on the floor, this description used proxemics and gestures which illustrates a sense of fear.

Until Death Do Us Part - Analysis

Mrs. Shaw then has a dialogue with voices in her

head; the fact that the voices are shouting illustrates the use of vocalic and expressed frustration. Further on in the story, in order to show her wealth the use of artifacts were incorporated. The most important pieces of artifact used in the story were the box of chocolate, card and flowers Mr. Shaw brought home to express his perpetual regret. Throughout the story the narrator, Mrs. Shaw uses Jamaican Standard English, this is apparent in her dialogues with herself and even how she addresses the doctor, Mr. Chan. Notably all the voices in her head are expressed in Jamaican Standard English except her mothers voice which was expressed in her native tongue, patois.

Until Death Do Us Part - Analysis

Mrs. Shaws last conversation with her grandmother

was also included in the piece and the entire conversation was in patois. Based on these two factors one can see that Mrs. Shaw associates Jamaican Creole with her past life in the country. The use of dialect variation in the piece is evidently related to elevation in status. The language strategies served emphasized the main issues in the story. The communicative behaviour gave the reader a vivid description of the events that occurred in the story as well as a better understanding of the internal conflict Mrs. Shaw faced that whether or not to stay in her abusive marriage. Dialect Variation while making the story more entertaining also highlights Mrs. Shaws rise in status and the price she pays to maintain her position.

The freshly painted building nestled comfortably in the valley of Eight Turn district in Kent Town. The school yard was swept clean and the tiny patch of grass to the left of the main door smiled pleasantly and the little marigold, that stood proudly in clusters around the edges. The newly acquired metal swing gleaned brightly red in the center of the playfield at the front of the school. The smiling faces of Ernie and Bert from Sesame Street painted on the front walls of the building reminded everyone to say please and thanks. Despite the pleasant setting, the presence of tragedy hung unmistakably in the atmosphere.

It was Tuesday the subsequent to tenth days the opening of the new school term four years old Mario Peters fell into a 6ft hole half filled with large rocks. Jesas Gaad, im mus ded now!, wailed one woman with both hands on her head. Kiss mi neck! exclaimed one half naked middle-aged man sporting dreadlocks. A who fa pickney?! A who a do dem madnis yah?! Make way, make way. Ladies and gentlemen please, please will you be quiet. You are frightening the other students with your loud, bad talking. Shhhh! Everyone

Den Ms. Prince, wi nuh fi seh nuttin? A who she? Yes, yes, Im sure. This is such a predicament; but do keep your voices down. The Principal croaked in a broken voice. Such a predicament. She whispered again like a broken record. She had her hand pressed delicately at the base of her throat. Dis is such a pridickiment Someone mocked in a nasal tone. Das all she cyan she when wi cum fi elp, bout kip you vices dung? Lef har, mek she alon manige.

A cum wid har twang One woman scoffed with so much disdain that Mrs. Prince cringed at the venom in her voice. The man sporting dreadlocks stepped forward and heroically announced I man a go fi di yout And with that he dropped his worked-stained shirt on the ground and climbed gingerly down into the pit, amidst encouraging shouts from the group. Tek time dred Yuh see im yet? Yuh wah light dung deh?

There was an ominous silence for a moment, no answering sound from the belly of the earth. Then from the periphery, Mrs. Prince crooned Please tell me when he surfaces. Gosh this is such a predicament.

Badly bruised all over his body, left arm and right leg broken, Mario was bleeding profusely from both nostrils and right ear when the dreadlocked man rescued him from the half finished soak away pit that was covered with a sheet of zinc and camouflaged with some grass bush similar to which grow along the wire fence which enclosed the school property.

The entire population of the school was completely traumatized. The sight of the blood and the seemingly broken body of the infant not only threw the entire school in chaos but the neighbouring community had now converged on the premises and its immediate environs. Housewives and unemployed women in various stages of undress, sweaty labourers in clothes bedecked in cement and mortar; babies with little legs extended at their mothers generous hips made up the curious loud talking, mob that continued to grow by the minute. Six hours later little Mario Peters died from the injuries he sustained when he fell into a death trap on his basic school compound.

This analysis will comment on the four areas required by CAPE, namely language registers, dialectic variations, attitudes to language and communicative behaviours. Death Trap has an ironic twist as the lot unfolds- a tragic ends. The story is told from as third person perspective and is set on the premises of a basic school. The narrator uses a formal register for most of the story as he describes the surroundings of Eight Turns Basic School. The tone of the story is somber so the choice of Standard English is befitting the occasion about which he wrote. However when the neighbours converged on the school premises, the exchanges among them were done in the casual register marking the informality of their situation, since most of them were acquaintances. The neighbours stood on no ceremony, there was an emergency and the turned with spontaneity to help. The use of the casual register reflected

DEATH TRAP-ANALYSIS

DEATH TRAP-ANALYSIS
As the different characters made their comments, at least three dialectic variations could be identified. The acrolect and the mesolect were featured. Mrs. Prince spoke the standard variety (acrolect), while the comments were largely mesolect. From these two varieties, Mrs. Prince used Erudite English, the Dread Rasta English and the unidentified speaker at the beginning, Profane English. The speakers use of profanity, registered his distress at little Marios plight. In many cases where the situation elicits shock, surprise and/or dismay, persons resort to the use of profanity, but they have no intention rude or disrespectful. The Dreads decision to help the child was clearly enunciated in Rasta English. He was totally at ease with the language of his social class and religious group. This language was punctuated by the use of the word/ letter I.

DEATH TRAP-ANALYSIS
Mrs. Prince earned the crowds ridicule, when she spoke disparagingly about their use of the creole. She referred to their language as bad talking. Her attitude towards their language was evident in her tone and the villagers responded in like manner. Not only did they think of her as ridiculous; but they taunted her kip you vices dung. Keen observation of the characters in the story showed their use of various communicative behaviours. Some of them shouted, others screamed, taunted, whispered and some remained silent.

DEATH TRAP-ANALYSIS
This is the use of vocalics which helps to create an impression on the reader. Proxemics or the use of space to communicate was clearly illustrated as the villagers crowded around the scene of the accident. The passage that was created for the principal as she approached, suggested respect for her while position on the periphery of the crowd, showed her preference not to be a part of the bad talking group. The use of gestures as well as parts of the body and movement, helped in defining the characters. So both the woman with her hands on her head and Mrs. Princes hand on the base of her throat clearly depicted how adversely they were affected by Marios

NOT AGAIN
Sharon was stretched out along the beach in the morning privacy of the Pear Tree Beach hotel. She began to relax and felt her muscles slowly losing the tension that had held her hostage for the last three years. As she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off in a daze, a thought crept in her mind maybe, just maybe, this weekend will be the turning point in her life. That was the last conscious thought she remembered before she was rudely awakened by a voice so rough that it grated on the flesh left exposed by the modest bathing suit.

NOT AGAIN
Ooman whey you do yah so by uself? No answer. Patois had never sounded so scary so awful to her before. It left an awful taste in her mouth. A sleep yuh a sleep the voice grated on. There was a nervous flutter of her eyelids but still no sound. Ooman yuh a hignore mi. Me doen like it.

NOT AGAIN
In her head Sharon wondered whether or not this could be happening to her again. Her mind whirled and sank into an abyss

of activity. She clearly heard her screams, the grunts, the curses
then the voices. The expletives, the profanity then the flurry of footsteps running against the back drop of sirens, police,

ambulance and fire trucks. She heard the doctors questioning and
answering their own questions then the velvety sound of a voice which said She will make if she has the will to live after such an

ordeal. That voice stayed with her for hours she felt herself
drowning not wanting to find her way back, not wanting to fight to hold on.

NOT AGAIN
She felt soiled and dirty as she recalled the many paws that had mauled her
entire body. She remembered the darkness as the different shadows blotted out the light of the sun above her. There were many of them and after six she had stopped counting. When she could not endure the pain and soreness, an engulfing darkness took her consciousness. When she felt the hands lifting her again, the scream that shattered the silence had ripped through her body and came unaided up from her throat. Then she realized that these hands were different, these were

impersonal, curious and yes, helpful. The sound of sirens relaying with
one another then silence, ominous but welcoming Three years later she was preparing to go college but she was not sure.

NOT AGAIN
Her privacy had been violated on all levels, the rapists, the police,
the paramedics, the doctors, the guidance councillors, the principal and vice principal, they had all probed to see how she was coping. Her guidance counsellor had given her pages and pages of blank paper and crayons. She had drawn a few diagrams

and had been given platitudes and nods of approval but had
continued to suffer the nightmares, the humiliation, the pain, the agony and nothing helped until she met Mrs. Griffiths.

She was her new English teacher but somehow she looked beyond
the firmly folded lips, the legs that were always anchored on the floor and the clothes that left her shapeless and indefinite.

NOT AGAIN
Mrs. Griffiths had heard Sharon silent plea of wanting to die and she had reached out to her and had patiently and uncomplainingly drawn her back to the real world where her hurt, her shame, her pain needed to be confronted and healed. The journey had been torturous and there had been many relapses but Mrs. Griffiths

was always there, encouraging, receptive, listening and fighting.

When she was finally ready, she did her exams, joined the graduating class and applied for college. She had just collected her acceptance letter and decided she would spend the morning at the beach close to Mrs. Griffiths beach cottage and now this

The aggressor kicked her feet viciously and spoke angrily. Yow browning you caan disrespeck me so yuh kno, and with that he knelt over her, licking his lips, making lecherous sounds

that she found disgusting. He had not bent over, but for a few
seconds when he flew up. A weh **** @#$$%@! Expletives filled the air as he recoiled in horror from the sting of pepper spray she had pulled out. Before he could straighten up

she followed up the attack by chopping him with her arms across
his back. Stinker I can cuss too@%#%^&& *^%$&&^%& the words rolled off Sharons tongue as she lashed out at the man.

At his weak attempt to rise to his feet, she flew in again, flattening him in the sand with a chop across his back. The guttural threats that he was making only made sense because of the look of shock, surprise and venom in his eyes. She lost no time in sending a shrill alarm from the whistle she wore around her neck. Hot on the heels of the sound came two heavily harmed

security guards. Are you alright Ms. Hendricks, one asked.

Yes Bolton, I am fine. Just dispose of that piece of unwanted garbage. Gladly mam, the guards said, as the intruder was draped by his collar and hauled off in the opposite direction. She knew know,

she was ready for college.

NOT AGAIN - ANALYSIS

An examination of the story entitled not again reveals that the writer employed the use of communicative behaviours, attitude to language, registers to language and dialectic variation to tell his story. The story is narrated by the third person omniscient voice and uses the flashback technique. The protagonist was raped three years before the start of the story and was just beginning to get over the ordeal when she was attacked again.

NOT AGAIN - ANALYSIS

The use of vocalics is evident in the shouting, the

grunting, the whispering, the screaming that the various

characters engaged in. The various different pitches and tones of voices demonstrate the differing emotions that the characters experience. The pregnant silence of Sharon as she waited for the antagonist to attack proved

to be ominous and created suspense. Other examples of

communicative behaviour include the crippling blows she administered to her attackers just before he was

NOT AGAIN - ANALYSIS

Artefacts such as sirens, whistles, the pepper spray, crayons and blank paper demonstrates the danger to which Sharon was exposed as well as the preparation she had made to keep herself safe. The register used to frighten Sharon and raise a response from her was informal and the mesolect along the language continuum. The use of profane language by the attacker was expected, but Sharons use of the same language alerted the reader that she was no longer prepared to be a victim.

NOT AGAIN - ANALYSIS

The readers shock to Sharons defence is understandable as early in the story Sharons attitude to the attackers use to the attitude of the Creole was one of scorn. Although by the end of the story, there was convergence, it simply showed the attackers that even if one does not use profanity it is no guarantee that one cannot. The general language of the story is Standard English, it is befitting with the serious nature of the theme the story examines.