I wrote this a little while ago. I like to write fantasy and magic stories. This is chapter 1, I will add as I am on!
Chapter 1
Like Magic
"Number 16, Elizabeth Johnson" shouted the director of numbering off the orphans of the Mexican flu epidemic, young, handsome, attractive Mr. Bell.
A very small girl for her age, Elizabeth Johnson, was approached by a young, thin, beautiful woman with long, black gloves on. She was surprised to see such a beautiful woman dressed all in black. The outline of her eyes were red. At first, the young nine-year old was surprised, and then sorry. She knew now that her Aunt Maria was in mourning. Someone precious to her must have died recently.
Maria sniffled and then said, "Come along now, child." Elizabeth took Maria's held out hand as her aunt guided her to the carriage. The gloves were very soft velvet. The feel of it saddened her, for her own mother once had a very similar pair, only her mother's were a deep, deep, purple. She held onto her as long as she could.
Once in the carriage, Elizabeth suddenly thought aloud, "Who has died?" She did not mean to say it, and was embarrassed and quickly brought her hand to her mouth.
Maria looked baffled.
"I'm sorry!" Elizabeth stammered, tears pouring out of her eyes. "Will you please, please forgive me? I'm sorry. Don't be vexed!" She sat and repeated quietly, over and over again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Oh, please don't cry, dear child. I forgive you. I'm not vexed. I was waiting and expecting you to say that, just not so soon. You're a smart, beautiful child. Don't cry." Maria said soothingly. "Please don't cry, young Elizabeth. You must be sad from the death of... oh, you poor child."
Elizabeth wiped her tears away and softly replied, "So, you're not mad?"
"No, no, of course not. It was my young daughter Lucy, who died last month. It was the day before her 8th birthday, and I had a wonderful gift to give her."
"What was it?" Elizabeth asked softly.
Maria replied, "It was a secret. I shan't tell anyone. The person must find the treasure of it themselves, and that person must be a child who believes in wonderful things."
"Like magic?"
"Yes, magic."
Now, Elizabeth had to think about this. "It's sort of like a riddle, right, Aunt Maria?"
"Yes, sort of." Aunt Maria replied softly and anxiously. "But no snooping around if Martha, the housekeeper, is anywhere near. I'm usually in the gardens. She'll box your ears if she finds you peeking into rooms!"
Elizabeth shivered just at the thought. She had her ears boxed as punishment before, but not very often.
She whispered, "I'm exhausted."
Maria replied gently, "Sleep now, child. Rest."
She dozed off at that.
Short story by Catherine Stout
Read 727 times
Written on 2006-05-03 at 01:36
Tags Fantasy
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The Music Box
Chapter 1
Like Magic
"Number 16, Elizabeth Johnson" shouted the director of numbering off the orphans of the Mexican flu epidemic, young, handsome, attractive Mr. Bell.
A very small girl for her age, Elizabeth Johnson, was approached by a young, thin, beautiful woman with long, black gloves on. She was surprised to see such a beautiful woman dressed all in black. The outline of her eyes were red. At first, the young nine-year old was surprised, and then sorry. She knew now that her Aunt Maria was in mourning. Someone precious to her must have died recently.
Maria sniffled and then said, "Come along now, child." Elizabeth took Maria's held out hand as her aunt guided her to the carriage. The gloves were very soft velvet. The feel of it saddened her, for her own mother once had a very similar pair, only her mother's were a deep, deep, purple. She held onto her as long as she could.
Once in the carriage, Elizabeth suddenly thought aloud, "Who has died?" She did not mean to say it, and was embarrassed and quickly brought her hand to her mouth.
Maria looked baffled.
"I'm sorry!" Elizabeth stammered, tears pouring out of her eyes. "Will you please, please forgive me? I'm sorry. Don't be vexed!" She sat and repeated quietly, over and over again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Oh, please don't cry, dear child. I forgive you. I'm not vexed. I was waiting and expecting you to say that, just not so soon. You're a smart, beautiful child. Don't cry." Maria said soothingly. "Please don't cry, young Elizabeth. You must be sad from the death of... oh, you poor child."
Elizabeth wiped her tears away and softly replied, "So, you're not mad?"
"No, no, of course not. It was my young daughter Lucy, who died last month. It was the day before her 8th birthday, and I had a wonderful gift to give her."
"What was it?" Elizabeth asked softly.
Maria replied, "It was a secret. I shan't tell anyone. The person must find the treasure of it themselves, and that person must be a child who believes in wonderful things."
"Like magic?"
"Yes, magic."
Now, Elizabeth had to think about this. "It's sort of like a riddle, right, Aunt Maria?"
"Yes, sort of." Aunt Maria replied softly and anxiously. "But no snooping around if Martha, the housekeeper, is anywhere near. I'm usually in the gardens. She'll box your ears if she finds you peeking into rooms!"
Elizabeth shivered just at the thought. She had her ears boxed as punishment before, but not very often.
She whispered, "I'm exhausted."
Maria replied gently, "Sleep now, child. Rest."
She dozed off at that.
Short story by Catherine Stout
Read 727 times
Written on 2006-05-03 at 01:36
Tags Fantasy
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
