My father cut the ribbon and opened the new opera house.
The crowds cheered and applauded as he waved happily at them. He didn't really seem like a great public figure, with his great belly and almost bald head, but he was the mayor, and as a provider for the restoration of the opera house, it was his duty to officially open it.
My name is Anna. Not ay-an, aw-nab my family moved after my father was elected mayor of Paris. Surprising, but true. I really hate it. None of my friends are here, its busy, dirty, noisy, and I don't speak French.
" It's only going to be four years sweetie!" my Mom would say. Because of course four years isn't that long! Thank goodness my mom and dad speak French.
I stood with my parents surveying the crowd of Parisians who stood clapping. I wasn't smiling or waving like my mother and father, I was only standing there, with my chest held high in a dignified way. My long dark curls fell along my face as usual, and I wore the dark brown eyes of my father, with the rosy thin lips of my mother. I did not really pay attention as my dad gave his speech. Why pay attention when you couldn't even understand it? My gaze shifted towards the doors of the opera house. This used to be the great Paris Opera House before, as I was told, there was a chandelier crash, and a fire burnt the whole opera house.
My mind registered that my father was coming to the end of his speech. More cameras flashed, and my father smiled and waved some more to tell that my usumptions were correct. Two guards opened the door, and another guard ushered people in. My family had the honor of going in first, which I didn't mind the slightest bit, since I had really been dying to go inside. I loved the architecture and the beautiful draperies and paintings. I had often come to watch the building construction, and now, to see it all together was amazing. The first tour group started going down a hallway, and unnoticed, I went down another