Masque

This is a story I did write around a year ago. As part of my English class I am to edit this and re-write ! I am sorry for the bad translation. :(
"Hail our good queen! To Victoria!"
"To Victoria !" the whole inn cheered. The Riveter's Rest was ranown for being the best place to be, as well as the worset. Most people there, tonight, were happy. Full of joy ! Today was the start of the end. The end of the downtrodden, the end of the hate and prejudice between the workers.
Some, were still at a loss - the disenpowered workers were still fighting to eradicate the poverty, but you didn't try to escape the trap. Reaver would have you for supper if you dared to try. He was infamous for that, for being a ravenous beast - nobody understood why, but he short mercilessly. Many believed it to be the product of the corrupt nation, the product of snobby parents raising a brat. Yet there was I, the daughter of an iron-smith, sent to the city to earn money ? No. I was sent because nobody could handle having me - i was a peasant, a nobody. Here I was to make money but to live for myself. this was the sum of the mass deviation of the fat cats in charge of the factories. I thud my glass down to the wooden table of the inn.
"Elise, not happy ?" Charles came over and placed his hand on my shoulder. He was my friend since i had arrived, we had been working in the same factory before it closed down, now he was overjoyed - his master, the boss, had been forced to raise pay for the workers. As for myself? I was working in a factory as a laborer, helping to pack things. I worked on the side, too, as a seams-lady, yet it was not well-paying. I was still here, a pauper.
I had taken up residence in a small flat just above Grovesnor Street - a filthy alley with a rat way and sewer running beneath, with at minimum 30 back-to-back houses. Charles was as I am, except be found residence with his sister, Cherisa: a scullery maid at the local overlords manor. He was a vile man, full of nothing but evil and hatred for the workers - he called us 'the plague'. Cherisa, however, was well off working for him. They had a lustful affair and she was paid enough to look after herself and her brother. Charles on occasion would allow me some of his money, just enough for myself to get by... I found myself in a predicament where I found myself tripping without his aide.
Category:Historical Fiction