Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Alright, so for those of you who have been following for a while, you would know that for a while now I've been posting bits and pieces of the book I'm attempting to write. Well, I completely re-wrote the beginning of it--tell me what you think!


I held the silver butterfly on my necklace up off of my neck so that I could view its intricate features. I looked at the old elven writing that went along the border of its wings. . .I still had no idea what it said.

I stood up and walked towards the windows, placing my hand upon the stained glass. I longed to go outside, longed to feel the fresh air. To run. . .to be free.

Ever since my mother died, my father had refused to let me go outside. After all, that was how she died.

I had gone outside one day, running in the fields and picking dandelions. Then, I decided to go into the woods. But I wound up going deeper into them than I had originally planned.

As dusk arrived, my father sent a search party out for me. They found me well into the night and carried me back.

I caught a terrible, unknown disease from those woods. And it was contagious.

For weeks, I saw the disease slowly choke the life out of both my mother and myself. Over half of the guards didn’t survive it.

I lived, my mother didn’t, and my father’s heart began to have a sudden aloofness towards me.

I wanted so desperately to have the courage to someday break through that window, to live each moment to the hilt.

But it took me over three years to finally work up the guts to actually leave.