CHAPTER 1-A Gateway to Escape
My mother angrily pushed me in front of my vanity table and said, "Sophie, please! We've got the neighbors coming! You have to look presentable! A young woman is not to be gallivanting through the woods, climbing trees, or trying to flee! Now sit and brush your hair!"
I viciously ripped my hairbrush from my mother's hands and brushed through the windblown snarls as the door slammed. I looked at myself in the mirror. Big blue eyes, long, mouse-brown hair, light skin, red lips. I suppose you could say I'm attractive, but I don't believe it myself.
I should probably let you in on a few things. I am Sophie Henderson. I am sixteen years old. The year is 1942, and I am an American who lives in England. We live next door to someone who always lets me ride his horses. He's a kind old man, with thick white hair and twinkling eyes that seem to denote some enchanting adventure, but all I know is that he is a professor, and that he will be housing four other kids because of the War. Since we are to meet them today, in a few hours even, I am supposed to look like, and I quote, "a real girl, and not one that actually enjoys running around and playing ridiculous games outdoors." Oh, how I hate my mother. I'm sure my father would stand up for me, if he were here.
But he's dead.
He died a year ago, and because of his fortune, we've been well off. Ever since then, my brother Ben and I have discovered that our mother used us only as ornaments, to impress her so-called friends. Because of the fighting in London, we were relocated to an old ranch, where a duo of horses would sometimes trot past. Because animals always seem to like me, I was able to coax them both into the old stables. I've taught myself to ride Artemis, my horse, and Ben's horse, Apollo, as they are now named. My mother nearly went apoplectic when she found out, but we kept going anyway, just to spite her.
Ben has his own gift. He is way smarter than me, and strategic to throw in to boot. He always beats me in chess. He loves history, even though he's only thirteen. He's actually won awards for his smarts back in America. But one thing we've both mastered is fighting.
Fighting with fists, swords, bows and arrows-we know how to fight and win in any situation. Sometimes, The Professor would have his grumpy old housekeeper Mrs. Macready set us up with archery ranges, arrows, bows, and swords to practice on. We've confided in him our plan to run away, and we trust him not to tell anyone.
As I sat on the stool, contemplating the virtues of suicide to escape the vile woman downstairs we call "Mom", the woman in question yelled up, "Get into that dress or I will get you dressed myself!" No use fighting it. After I slip on the atrocious dress, I head over to my big window on the second floor of this humble little house and sit on the red velvet cushions. As I cast my eyes around the room, I take notice of everything I've come to recognize as home: my wooden bedposts, the simple quilt, the heavy closet door that holds mostly pants, my worn writing desk, vanity table, and the obnoxious full-length mirror my mother received from the neighbors. Don't get me wrong, it looks lovely, it's simply the fact that I never care about my appearance.
I strode over to this monstrosity and mulled over my clothing: an incredibly girly yellow sundress, unbearably tight on the top and astoundingly see-through on the bottom, which went only to my thighs. Is my mother trying to have my virginity taken away?
As I gazed into the depths of the mirror, I noticed the flash of sunlight. I looked over at my window; the day was cloudy. So where...?
"Hey, Soph," Ben said as he strode into the room. He was the only one who can get away with calling me Soph. Barely.
"Hey, Ben," I greeted. "Ben, look over in this mirror. It looks like something inside is flashing, but what?"
Ben strode over to the mirror and tried to see something else but his own reflection. Suddenly, the light flashed again, and the reflection looked bizarrely green, like a forest. And what was that metallic glint?
I reached out to touch the smooth glass of the mirror, only now it had become watery. I gasped and called Ben's name while the surface rippled. Suddenly, the entire image changed into a forest! I touched the surface again, and now I could feel wind blowing through the mirror!
This was our chance.
"Ben!" I said sternly. "Run to your room and get a dagger. Go!" He nodded, with no inclination to ask why. He knew. We were going to try to go through.
I armed myself with my dagger and a compass. As I changed into a loose blue shirt, long black pants, and brown boots, Ben burst back into my room with two daggers on his belt and a satchel on his back. I looked at him quizzically as I threw on my leather jacket and slung my bow and arrows (which I kept hidden in my room) over my shoulders. "I thought if we're going somewhere, it might be a good idea to make a map. I'm carrying some paper and a pen in the satchel, along with a few apples, just in case."
"Brilliant idea, Ben!" I commended. "Now let's get out of this prison."
I touched the mirror with my toe, to make sure that we could still go through. It still waved. I closed my eyes for a moment, and I still felt the cool spring breeze. And I bravely stepped through the wavelike surface of the glass, and I find something that I never expected to be in a mirror.