Ch. 1
The servant girl
Annabelle Starr stared at the ground in the nursery she loved so much. It was all a blur, the hints that Nanna gave her. A small skeleton leaf was crumbled in he corner. There weren't any trees of the sort in London, and she smiled wickedly. A clue.
"Al!" The smallest brother Jonathan screamed.
"Yes Mr. Hoolk?" Al said. She smiled. Jonathan Hoolk was the cutest little boy in London. She, a ten year old girl, was the servant in the Hoolk family. Her mother and father were dead.
"Will you tell me the story of Snow White?" he asked. A four year old can make anyone change thier minds.
"Get your brother in here." She smiled. Jonathan ran screaming, 'MAX, MAX!' Al walked over to the leaf. It had a marking in it. Like a hook shaped something. Maybe Nanna was joshing. Max and Jonathan came running in the room. Jonathan was an eight year old boy looking exactly like his brother. Brown hair, grey eyes, and tan skin.
"Snow White?" Max said anxiously. Al nodded. She found herself telling the brutal story that her nanna taught her. Her nanna, Wendy, had a huge imagination. She told Annabelle about a boy named Peter Pan. Before Wendy died falling from a window, her room was painted by her Nanna. She was now absent mindedly telling the story. In her eyes, she had a family. Somewhere in Neverland, there was a boy, Peter Pan. He knew who she was. She could feel it. Peter Pan wasn't real, though. She just wanted a family.
"Annabelle," A stern voice said from the doorway. It was Mrs. Hoolk. Al stopped in mid sentance.
"Yes, Miss?" She asked. Mrs. Hoolk motioned her to come. Al whispered 'I'll be back and left closing the door behind her.
"Annabelle," Mrs. Hoolk said. "What is it with this Snow White nonsense?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Al asked.
"You're teaching my boys how to become a pirate. I don't wan you telling them any stories. Your a ten year old girl. You need to grow up! You are a servant, not a storyteller!" Mrs. Hoolk's eyes were red like Nanna said Hook's got when he was angry or about to plundge his hook into you.
"I just finished cleaning up their rooms, like you said, and Jonathan wanted me to tell him the story of Snow White--"
"I don't recall Snow White having pirates in it!" Mrs. Hoolk intrupted. Al stared at her tight face. "Grow up!" Mrs. Hoolk turned away. Al felt tears in her eyes. She couldn't tell stories to them. The only thing she could do was clean and not enjoy life. She walked to her room with her head down. Max walked after her.
"Aren't you gunna finish the story? You were just at the part where she was just about to--"
"I--I can't tell you two anymore stories. Mrs--Your mum--said I was a servant, not a storyteller." And with that Al started to run to her room. She was only a servant girl. Nothing could help her change that she was an orphan girl and was picked up by a snobby mother, saying that she could live there only if she didn't go to school and clean up the house. She, being five, just wanted shelter. She had gotten so many threats about being thrown back onto the street if she didn't stop getting bad grades, and Al was confused. She didn't go to school, so how could she get her grades up? That made her furious. She cleaned harder than she had ever before when she got those threats.
She threw herself on her bed and cried. She felt scared. Sad. Lonely. She thought that ten year olds weren't meant to clean all day long and not be able to have fun. They were supposed to love life, but the last time she smiled was days ago. She cried harder as she thought about her family. Her mom and dad, her grandparents, everyone was gone. No one would come back. She felt her eyes turn puffy as she looked up to see the window. The skies were as black as beetles would be in the middle of June. Stars looked no brighter than a strand of hair rolled up into a ball with a flashlight shined on it in the middle of the night in a blackout.
The "servent girl" stared at the ground. If the stories about what Nanna--Wendy--had said, she wished she could go there right now. Always be ten. No younger, no older. She sighed as she fell down on her pillow. The words servent girl went through her head as she fell asleep crying. She would always be a servant girl, until the day maggots eat her bones until the only thing left is dust. **************************************************************************** *******************
Later that night, she awoke to the sound of her door opening. It was Mrs. Hoolk. Al turned around in her bed as Mrs. Hoolk came closer.
"Annabelle," she said.
"Hmm?" Al asked. She felt hatred run all over her body. She forced herself to bite her tounge to stop tears from streaming down her cheeks.
"I wanted to say more about our conversation. I knew you'de be awake," Of course. Never to say sorry.
"GO AWAY!" Al heard a scream from outside. Mrs. Hoolk stared out the window. Al stared at Mrs. Hoolk, but she was heading out the door.
The voice turned into a whisper as Al drifted off to sleep. A deep deep sleep.
****** Mrs. Hoolk is pronounced Hooooook btw!
The servant girl
Annabelle Starr stared at the ground in the nursery she loved so much. It was all a blur, the hints that Nanna gave her. A small skeleton leaf was crumbled in he corner. There weren't any trees of the sort in London, and she smiled wickedly. A clue.
"Al!" The smallest brother Jonathan screamed.
"Yes Mr. Hoolk?" Al said. She smiled. Jonathan Hoolk was the cutest little boy in London. She, a ten year old girl, was the servant in the Hoolk family. Her mother and father were dead.
"Will you tell me the story of Snow White?" he asked. A four year old can make anyone change thier minds.
"Get your brother in here." She smiled. Jonathan ran screaming, 'MAX, MAX!' Al walked over to the leaf. It had a marking in it. Like a hook shaped something. Maybe Nanna was joshing. Max and Jonathan came running in the room. Jonathan was an eight year old boy looking exactly like his brother. Brown hair, grey eyes, and tan skin.
"Snow White?" Max said anxiously. Al nodded. She found herself telling the brutal story that her nanna taught her. Her nanna, Wendy, had a huge imagination. She told Annabelle about a boy named Peter Pan. Before Wendy died falling from a window, her room was painted by her Nanna. She was now absent mindedly telling the story. In her eyes, she had a family. Somewhere in Neverland, there was a boy, Peter Pan. He knew who she was. She could feel it. Peter Pan wasn't real, though. She just wanted a family.
"Annabelle," A stern voice said from the doorway. It was Mrs. Hoolk. Al stopped in mid sentance.
"Yes, Miss?" She asked. Mrs. Hoolk motioned her to come. Al whispered 'I'll be back and left closing the door behind her.
"Annabelle," Mrs. Hoolk said. "What is it with this Snow White nonsense?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Al asked.
"You're teaching my boys how to become a pirate. I don't wan you telling them any stories. Your a ten year old girl. You need to grow up! You are a servant, not a storyteller!" Mrs. Hoolk's eyes were red like Nanna said Hook's got when he was angry or about to plundge his hook into you.
"I just finished cleaning up their rooms, like you said, and Jonathan wanted me to tell him the story of Snow White--"
"I don't recall Snow White having pirates in it!" Mrs. Hoolk intrupted. Al stared at her tight face. "Grow up!" Mrs. Hoolk turned away. Al felt tears in her eyes. She couldn't tell stories to them. The only thing she could do was clean and not enjoy life. She walked to her room with her head down. Max walked after her.
"Aren't you gunna finish the story? You were just at the part where she was just about to--"
"I--I can't tell you two anymore stories. Mrs--Your mum--said I was a servant, not a storyteller." And with that Al started to run to her room. She was only a servant girl. Nothing could help her change that she was an orphan girl and was picked up by a snobby mother, saying that she could live there only if she didn't go to school and clean up the house. She, being five, just wanted shelter. She had gotten so many threats about being thrown back onto the street if she didn't stop getting bad grades, and Al was confused. She didn't go to school, so how could she get her grades up? That made her furious. She cleaned harder than she had ever before when she got those threats.
She threw herself on her bed and cried. She felt scared. Sad. Lonely. She thought that ten year olds weren't meant to clean all day long and not be able to have fun. They were supposed to love life, but the last time she smiled was days ago. She cried harder as she thought about her family. Her mom and dad, her grandparents, everyone was gone. No one would come back. She felt her eyes turn puffy as she looked up to see the window. The skies were as black as beetles would be in the middle of June. Stars looked no brighter than a strand of hair rolled up into a ball with a flashlight shined on it in the middle of the night in a blackout.
The "servent girl" stared at the ground. If the stories about what Nanna--Wendy--had said, she wished she could go there right now. Always be ten. No younger, no older. She sighed as she fell down on her pillow. The words servent girl went through her head as she fell asleep crying. She would always be a servant girl, until the day maggots eat her bones until the only thing left is dust. **************************************************************************** *******************
Later that night, she awoke to the sound of her door opening. It was Mrs. Hoolk. Al turned around in her bed as Mrs. Hoolk came closer.
"Annabelle," she said.
"Hmm?" Al asked. She felt hatred run all over her body. She forced herself to bite her tounge to stop tears from streaming down her cheeks.
"I wanted to say more about our conversation. I knew you'de be awake," Of course. Never to say sorry.
"GO AWAY!" Al heard a scream from outside. Mrs. Hoolk stared out the window. Al stared at Mrs. Hoolk, but she was heading out the door.
The voice turned into a whisper as Al drifted off to sleep. A deep deep sleep.
****** Mrs. Hoolk is pronounced Hooooook btw!