Prologue:
I was born on September 19th at a small hospital in Britain, a little to the North of Oxford. My parents are as follows: Eleanor, my mother, and Henry, my father. I suppose I have my mother's brown, but bushy hair and eyes, and my father's pointed features, but overall, I thought myself attractive in a plain manner, but never the less, attractive. My parents were both highly respected figures in society – dentists, and I loved them both dearly. They married at the extremely young age of 19 because my mother was pregnant with me and they vowed never to have children again, but I just thought it was because I was a nuisance when I was younger or that they fell out of love with one another if that was even possible. Why they are still together, I know not of.
I grew up in a small little red brick flat with green ivy creeping up the sides and a limestone walkway leading to the forest green door with an amiable brass handle. My home had five windows on the front; one on both sides of the door, two on the second floor – directly above the ones below, and a small octagonal shaped window about five meters above the door. On the backside of the flat, there were four windows that matched the front ones. They were arranged in a manner as to form a square. Each window had shutters to match the door with a small flower box filled with flowers of all kinds underneath. The house was surrounded by a freshly clipped lawn and pink and red rose bushes.
Inside my house, one would be greeted by a decent and useful sized parlor decorated with great care as to keep the Victorian Era look. The walls were papered in a cream color background and decorated with a red-burgundy colored print in vertical stripes. The circular dark stained mahogany table was placed directly in the center of the area and a large porcelain vase sat in the middle filled with flowers, matching the walls. A large mirror with a gold ornamental frame hung on the North wall next to the shoe closet. A chaise was next to the stairway on the West side of the room.
On the East side of the parlor, a large doorway opened into a sitting room. The walls were themed in a washed-out navy blue color to match the fireplace that was hardly used. Above the mantle, a large picture of my parents and me was suspended in a plain, but elegant black frame. On both sides of the fireplace there were built in bookcases and each was filled to the ceiling. A black leather couch was placed in front of the window - this couch was my mother's favorite. Across from the couch, a brown sitting chair was angled towards the fireplace and flat screen television. Everything in this room seemed to flow; from the Oriental rug on the floor to the black piano near the doorway, it was my second favorite room in the house.
If you continued past the mirror, you would walk past the bathroom and into the kitchen. The kitchen had gorgeous cherry cabinetry, granite countertops and was smothered in stain-less steel appliances and the sink. My mother only wanted the tops brands so that was what we had. Across from the kitchen was the dinning room. It had high-backed chairs with intricate carvings in the wood with a matching table and cabinet which held Mum's best china. A crystal chandelier dangled over the table. The walls were adorned in a deep purple and gold to match the china. Long shocking gold curtains draped the large window and fell to the floor. Of the entire house, this was definitely the most elegant and the best place to seek solitude.
As everything seems to lead to the parlor, on the West side of the parlor, a staircase leading up was located. It was an elegant staircase made of pure and solid maple and stained to match the table in the center. It was worn with age, but just as charming as it would have been if it were 1 year old. A rug ran up the middle of the winding stairs and run up to the hallway above. If you ascended the stairs, directly to your right would be a long hallway. If you continued down that hallway and turned right again at the nearest door, my room would be there. My room was painted a sharp shade of lilac and a classic iron bed rested against the wall. My furniture matched everything in my room and it was my favorite place. My computer sat in a corner on my white desk and a large bookcase was placed near it. My closet was organized as was the rest of my room and house.
It was here, in the described setting above, where I lived for the first 11 years of my life and where my future beheld.
Author's Note: I want to thanks my Beta: LadyPeaceGoldenHeart for 'beta-ing' my story so far. Reviews are welcome! I will try to respond to all of them, but as of now, I am currently grounded and am giving up sleep to write this story.
Best,
Rachel