Robin's point of view

The forest is my true home, my sanctuary. I don't feel at peace in the stone castle that had been used for hundreds of years. The way my family lived was as if we were in the 1800. We didn't have cars, or even mention them at that. It was like, all of Moonacre valley refused to move to the modern day ways. We had a stupid, pointless feud going on between the Merryweathers and the De Noirs. It was all over some pearls that nobody had even seen in about 200 years. It was getting ridiculous. I should be out, in London. As a 17 year old boy, I had an obligation to all boys around me to flirt with teenage girls. But, you see, here's the problem. Every girl in the village is practically in love with me. One look, and I could have whatever girl I wanted. It was awful. I didn't even go to school. The only reason I know what goes on in the real world is because of Lewis, the guy who brings mail to the valley. He tells me everything that goes on in London.

When I first met Lewis, I was but ten years old. I was out in the forest by the giant gate the protected the valley. It didn't do much because all you had to do was walk about 10 yards into the woods and you could pass the "protection" with ease. I was watching the road intently, as if I expected it to do magic or something (something that would not be too far fetched here), when he walked up and placed a large box outside the gate. He then walked off. I was surprised that he left because we were taught to believe anyone who left the vally would die if they did not return back within 2 weeks. As ridiculous as it sounds, I believed it with all my heart. I was worried about the young man so I went back the next day, and did the same for weeks on end. He always came. He didn't die.

Finally, one day I collected the courage to go and talk to this man. As I waited in the woods, I saw him walk up, with a box, just like always. Being a ten year old boy, I had little patience and started squirming. He obviously heard me because his head snapped towards the direction I was hiding. I decided that it was now or never. I went up, to him. Soon, we were talking about London, and cars and all these amazing things, when I hear a quiet ringing. It seems to come from Lewis. I jump in surprise then I watch carefully and he reached in his pocket and pulled out a strange object I had never seen before. It had quieted it's self when he touched it and started talking into it. This man was crazy! He was talking to thing while pressing against his head. He looked really stupid. I started laughing at him. He stopped talking to the thing and looked at me like I was stupid. Well, I wasn't the one with the thing in my face. He told the thing he loved it and put it back in his pocket. What on earth was he doing. He gave me an amused glance and told me to come back Monday if I wanted to learn more.

From then on I have begged my father to let me go and see London. I wanted to eat hamburgers and have a cell phone. It was all amazing. I have been beaten on countless occasions because of my begging. I never slacked on my chores or anything bad except beg. I was sick of the ridiculous feud between the families. The feud cost me my sister. She was banished for falling in love with a Merryweather. What the heck were these people in Moonacre trying to accomplish by hiding from London and people.

I walk in the woods daily, trying to come up with a logical explanation for everything but I always fail. I do hate the Merryweathers because they cost me my sister. I would get back at them, even though I knew deep, deep down, it wasn't their fault.

Maria's point of view

I smiled as he crumpled to the floor in defeat.

"You couldn't beat the master," I taunted. He just glared up at me in defeat. I Knew it had been a good idea to ad kickboxing to my many fighting sports. I didn't want to brag but I was handy with a sword, a gun, a bow and arrow, and using my body in self-defense. I had picked up the sports after my beloved baby sister had been murdered. My mom was dead, so the left me with my dad and miss Heliotrope. She is our maid, but has become somewhat of a motherly figure in my life. She had been my mom's best friend, and she promised my mother to never leave me. She wore clothes that would have been worn somewhere in the 1800s. She always looked ridiculous. She wore everything up to a corset. She had managed to dress my up like that at one point. I looked worse that she did. I always tried to do what she told me to but sometimes I had a hard time complying with the "rules of being a lady." Heck with that, I was the champ at every burping contest there had ever been at my school. I was the fastest runner in my school. I was all set in my opinion.

I went a showered up and changed into skinny jeans and an very reveling tank top. I tied my wild red hair back into a messy bun. I was average looking. Nothing special. I was skinny, but healthy. My grey eyes I do appreciate. They were very pretty in my opinion, but other than that I looked average.

I studied myself in the mirror. I admit, I look like an easy target. I look like I would be very weak, but people who knew me knew better. The fact is, I had never even liked a guy. They were never more than my friends. Girls get on my nerves so much. Always worrying about their hair and makeup. I was considered one of the guys.

Suddenly, I was hit with a wave of nausea and ran to the bathroom stalls. I threw up my lunch and gave a satisfied grin once it was over. It was over, I felt better, why shouldn't I be satisfied. I threw my gym clothes in a bag and ran out to the parking lot. I saw the red convertible and got my keys out. I smiled at the sight of my new car, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach that something was terribly wrong. I got in and sped home. I ran inside sensing the sadness that overcame the mansion. I opened the door.

"Ms. Heliotrope?" I called out. I listed and heard a quiet sob coming from the upstairs living room. We were considerably rich. My dad was a very successful business man. His only flaw in being a dad was his gambling issue.

"Maria," said a sad Ms. Heliotrope. I looked up slowly and saw the look. That look. One I never wanted to see again. That look. She had worn the look when we got the news of my sister. She had worn the look when my mother died.

"Oh, God, No," I said to myself. "It's my dad, isn't it," I said. I was surprised that my voice didn't crack. I felt as if I was being torn limb from limb. I just stood there. All three in only three years.

I started to get mad at myself. WHY WASN'T I CRYING! "Was he murdered too," I said in a cold voice that I had never heard myself use.

Mr. Heliotrope only managed a nod.