Chapter 1: Martha,MyDear
I sat on the grass next to me mum. "Mummy, I'm bored!" I complained.
"Go play, James," she said briefly.
"Alright, I'll go play. But with who?" I said.
"Take your brother to the play structure and let him play on it," mum said, "Look, there is a little girl who you can help. Maybe, if you ask her nicely, she will let you push her on the swings,"
I rolled my eyes and took Micheal's hand and walked over to the play structure and he ran to play on it. I walked towards the girl sitting glumly on the swing. She looked really pretty, closer I got the more she looked amazing.
"Hullo," I said politely, expecting her to tell me to go away and that she will figure out how to push herself even though she still had a foot and a half to grow.
"Oh," she said startled, "Hallo. Would you mind helping me swing? Da had to go to work and Mammy is reading her story. My brothers could honestly care less about me. Would you please help me?"
"Of course," I smiled, "Me mum told me that I should help you. I'm James Paul McCartney but I prefer being called Paul. What's your name?"
"I'm Martha Annalise Hefner. Do you have any brothers or sisters? I'm youngest of four and I have all older brothers," Martha said.
"Yeh," I said, "I have a younger brother. I feel sorry for you, I mean that your the youngest,"
I looked at her curiously; cream-coloured porcelain skin, waist-long (and light) blonde hair, dark sapphire blue eyes that offset the light colour of her skin and hair, a perfect heart-shaped face, and a beautiful, perfect (it honestly looked carved, all of her did) mouth.
How could one person be so lovely?
"Hey, Martha!" someone called, "Why are you hanging out with a boy? They are disgusting,"
"Oh," Martha said, "I have to go, Paulie. I mean Paul. Um, it was a pleasure meeting you. I-I, uh, well I'll see you around,"
She jumped down and ran to the person, "Jude, your so mean! He didn't do anything," she called to the person.
I liked that she called me 'Paulie' instead of 'Paul'. Martha seemed very sad to go, too. I suppose that's when I realized I fell in love with Martha. The thought of it; Mr. and Mrs. James Paul McCartney...us together.
"Hey, Paul!" Micheal called, "Lets play a game!"
"Fine, but I choose the game," I called back.
"Ugh, you chose last time, though!" he argued.
"I don't care," I threw at him, "I'm older than you, so technically you have to do what I say,"
He started whining about how unfair that was and that he would never be older than me. I wondered if that's what Martha's brothers had to put up with. Did her brothers let her do whatever she wanted? She did seem very fragile. Plus, she never told me how much older they were. Maybe because that would give away her age, she did seem very mature. Could she be older than me? I thought I would never know.