This is the 1st draft of the first chapter of a story I'm writing.
One
It was a rainy day. I sat in my room, listening to soft music with 6 candles burning in my room. I was so at peace there, it was my own little wonderland. There were lights draped all around, dozens of shelfs stacked with books, and walls entirely covered with drawings. I was laying in the window seat, reading, when my grandmother scurried in. "Blow those candles out! I swear, you'll burn down this house one day!" She demanded. "Alright, alright. Don't worry yourself so much." She seemed disbelieving, but nevertheless she walked out.
As she probably expected, I didn't blow the candles out. I don't really prefer to listen to her, as she is not my mother. My mother died in a unfortunate canoeing incident with my father. I don't like to talk about it to strangers, such as you.
I drifted off to sleep with my cat, Luna, sprawled across my chest. Her un-nessesary cat fat made it quite difficult for me to breath.
I dreamed of fairies dancing in an ever-lasting forest made of impossibly tall trees. The fairies sparkled and glowed, and once in while they would swoop down and whisper in my ear. But there was something about the trees that were- different. Suddenly, I felt a frantic sense in my body; my stomach quenched in fear. The leaves in the trees weren't leaves anymore, they were eyes. Thousands of eyes, everywhere. They were staring at me, they seemed to be trying to tell me something!
I woke up in a cold sweat, so very grateful it wasn't real.
At least, that's what I thought.
One
It was a rainy day. I sat in my room, listening to soft music with 6 candles burning in my room. I was so at peace there, it was my own little wonderland. There were lights draped all around, dozens of shelfs stacked with books, and walls entirely covered with drawings. I was laying in the window seat, reading, when my grandmother scurried in. "Blow those candles out! I swear, you'll burn down this house one day!" She demanded. "Alright, alright. Don't worry yourself so much." She seemed disbelieving, but nevertheless she walked out.
As she probably expected, I didn't blow the candles out. I don't really prefer to listen to her, as she is not my mother. My mother died in a unfortunate canoeing incident with my father. I don't like to talk about it to strangers, such as you.
I drifted off to sleep with my cat, Luna, sprawled across my chest. Her un-nessesary cat fat made it quite difficult for me to breath.
I dreamed of fairies dancing in an ever-lasting forest made of impossibly tall trees. The fairies sparkled and glowed, and once in while they would swoop down and whisper in my ear. But there was something about the trees that were- different. Suddenly, I felt a frantic sense in my body; my stomach quenched in fear. The leaves in the trees weren't leaves anymore, they were eyes. Thousands of eyes, everywhere. They were staring at me, they seemed to be trying to tell me something!
I woke up in a cold sweat, so very grateful it wasn't real.
At least, that's what I thought.
