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Could you please read the beginning to my story?
I rested my head against the window, watching the woods whoosh by. I was thinking of the life I’d left behind to move to some backwoods house in Vermont to be homeschooled.Mother made a sharp turn onto a long, but bumpy and unkempt, driveway. “We’re here,” she announced cheerfully.Ahead of us was a large Victorian-style mansion. The grayish paint was peeling and the chimney was sagging. It was probably a pretty house once, but not anymore. It was surrounded by tall trees, probably hundreds of years old.“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mother said, gazing up at it. “It brings back so many memories of my summers here.”My sister Elisabeth replied, “I guess.”“Helena, what do you think?”“It’s okay,” I replied. “Well, we’d better get unpacked,” Mother sighed, visibly disappointed we didn’t share her love for the old house.I took my small suitcase and a light box and waited while Mother unlocked the front door. Inside, it was musty and dark. An Wrought iron plate rack ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling, covered in dust, as was everything else. Only a few of the original lights worked on it. The couch was made of dark leather. As I set my suitcase on it, a huge puff of dust flew up.I went upstairs with Elisabeth. There were exactly three bedrooms. “You can choose any one you’d like,” Mother called from downstairs as she opened up a large box.I chose a room with a large window covered with lacy beige curtains. The wallpaper was a faded blue, covered in even lighter blue fleur-de-lis. The bed was small and the headboard had iron-wrought designs on it. Lucky for me, Elisabeth had chosen another room without bothering me about this one.I sat on the bed, and it creaked quite loudly. I didn’t care; I was too tired. I tried to sleep, and soon I succeeded.“Wake up, sleepyhead!” I shook out of my slumber. Elisabeth was standing over me. “Mom fixed dinner.”I loped downstairs to the small dinette. Mother had set up the Formica table and the folding chairs. Elisabeth pulled out the paper plates and plastic utensils from a package and plopped them on the table. Mother brought some bread and peanut butter. “That’s all we have before I go to town tomorrow,” Mother said, sighing. We all sat. “Did I ever tell you about my great aunt Catriona? She owned this house before we did.”“You mentioned her,” I mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich.“I visited this house every summer. I met my first boyfriend here when I was seventeen going on eighteen.”“You had Helena when you were eighteen,” Elisabeth said suspiciously.“Oh, yes.” Mother said, and nodded. “Anyway, back to Aunt Cat and my summers here. I stopped going to her house when I went off to college. But she never forgot me. I think I was the only one who thought Aunt Cat wasn’t crazy.”No, they’re moving there, and there they will be homeschooled. Sorry if it’s unclear.The story will be about Faerie; therefore, it will be fantasy. This is just the beginning, and it doesn’t show the fantasy element.
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I rested my head against the window, watching the woods whoosh by. I was thinking of the life I’d left behind to move to some backwoods house in Vermont to be homeschooled.Mother made a sharp turn onto a long, but bumpy and unkempt, driveway. “We’re here,” she announced cheerfully.Ahead of us was a large Victorian-style mansion. The grayish paint was peeling and the chimney was sagging. It was probably a pretty house once, but not anymore. It was surrounded by tall trees, probably hundreds of years old.“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mother said, gazing up at it. “It brings back so many memories of my summers here.”My sister Elisabeth replied, “I guess.”“Helena, what do you think?”“It’s okay,” I replied. “Well, we’d better get unpacked,” Mother sighed, visibly disappointed we didn’t share her love for the old house.I took my small suitcase and a light box and waited while Mother unlocked the front door. Inside, it was musty and dark. An Wrought iron plate rack ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling, covered in dust, as was everything else. Only a few of the original lights worked on it. The couch was made of dark leather. As I set my suitcase on it, a huge puff of dust flew up.I went upstairs with Elisabeth. There were exactly three bedrooms. “You can choose any one you’d like,” Mother called from downstairs as she opened up a large box.I chose a room with a large window covered with lacy beige curtains. The wallpaper was a faded blue, covered in even lighter blue fleur-de-lis. The bed was small and the headboard had iron-wrought designs on it. Lucky for me, Elisabeth had chosen another room without bothering me about this one.I sat on the bed, and it creaked quite loudly. I didn’t care; I was too tired. I tried to sleep, and soon I succeeded.“Wake up, sleepyhead!” I shook out of my slumber. Elisabeth was standing over me. “Mom fixed dinner.”I loped downstairs to the small dinette. Mother had set up the Formica table and the folding chairs. Elisabeth pulled out the paper plates and plastic utensils from a package and plopped them on the table. Mother brought some bread and peanut butter. “That’s all we have before I go to town tomorrow,” Mother said, sighing. We all sat. “Did I ever tell you about my great aunt Catriona? She owned this house before we did.”“You mentioned her,” I mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich.“I visited this house every summer. I met my first boyfriend here when I was seventeen going on eighteen.”“You had Helena when you were eighteen,” Elisabeth said suspiciously.“Oh, yes.” Mother said, and nodded. “Anyway, back to Aunt Cat and my summers here. I stopped going to her house when I went off to college. But she never forgot me. I think I was the only one who thought Aunt Cat wasn’t crazy.”No, they’re moving there, and there they will be homeschooled. Sorry if it’s unclear.The story will be about Faerie; therefore, it will be fantasy. This is just the beginning, and it doesn’t show the fantasy element.
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Wrought iron plate rack
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