A young girl stood on the platform. She had medium length, light brown hair. She had a straight face, although no adults were around her. Most children would be freaking out. But this child, only of the age 11, was perfectly calm. As if she knew she was going to be fine. It was as if she was waiting. But for what? Something? Or Someone? Whatever she was waiting for, she seemed perfectly sure, it would arrive just on time. She had light brown, slightly hazel eyes. Most people passing by her asked her if she was lost. When she shook her head, the people would ask if she knew what platform her train would be on. She would then turn to them, stone faced, and reply. "If I told you what platform, you wouldn't believe me." It wasn't that she hated the people, she just found it extremely annoying. As she would have to answer the same exact question, every five seconds. She would always give the same exact answer. To some bystanders, who had been waiting for a while and had seen multiple people ask her the question, it looked almost rehearsed. If the question differed a bit, she would have an answer to it. Some people tried changing it up, seeing if she had an answer for everything. Some would ask where her parents were, she would reply with, none of your business. Some would ask why she had an owl in a cage, she would reply. "Exotic animals interest me." And that would be the end of that conversation. She wasn't trying to be rude, this was how she was taught to act towards others. Not that her parents taught her this, no. Her mother had died when she was young, and her father was constantly at work. She had a brother, they were extremely close. But then her brother did something, she had no idea what. She never saw him again, she then would ask her father about it. She was forbidden to talk of her brother. From then on she had closed herself off from others. She didn't want to let her guard down, she refused to. Unless someone earned her trust, and could slowly melt her heart. Most couldn't handle her cold demeanor, they would back away after a week or so. She told herself that they weren't her true friends. But then had afterthoughts. Maybe it was partly her, yes. She knew it had some part to do with her demeanor. But she just wasn't ready to let anyone in. This small 11 year old girl, standing with a trolley full of luggage, a cage with an owl, and loads of books. She looked odd to lots of people. But she stood and waited patiently. This small child's name was Marilyn. Marilyn Rue Evangeline Crouch.
I do hope you enjoyed. I just want you all to know, this is just introducing the character to you. The next chapter will be in Marilyn's P.O.V.
~ nottheonlyfangirl