Chapter 1
My day started out like any other nine-year-old girls day should. I woke up in my room that was spacious and bland. The only thing that say there was a painting of three roses. I sit up in my queen sized bed with red satin sheets and white ruffles that adorned dark red velvet roses. I let my fingers caress the velvet roses that were on the sheets while I stared at the painting that I made. It hung on the wall in a bronze frame that my father made me. He loves to make things out of wood and then paint them to look old and worn. Above it sat the glass covering that my mother designed. She loves to paint glass that goes on display in places. Behind their two goal achievements was the wonderous work that I created.
As I said before, the painting that I made were of three flowers. Down at the bottom were thousands of yellow roses that appeared almost generic to the human eye. Growing from under them were several tall blue roses that formed into a small dome. The blue roses were wet with dew that made them shine brightly with their healthy glow. But, on top of the blue rose dome sat a lone red rose. That red rose was sitting by itself, alone. I felt the pain and confusion of that single rose sitting there by itself. But what was I to do to help that little rose.
Voice: Ib! Darling are you awake yet?
That voice was sweet as always. It was my mother calling from the bottom of the steps.
Ib: Yes mother!
Mother: Ok, take a shower and get dressed so your breakfast won't get cold.
I hop out of bed leaving it a mess. I walk out my room into the hallway in my little white dress with a red bow that ties around my neck. I turn to my left and walk past three doors, the fourth and last door was the master bathroom. I walk in the master bathroom. Most would think that my family is rich because of what I'm about to say. My bathroom was covered entirely in white marble with red bathroom supplies and accessories everywhere. My mother and father weren't famous but they were wealthy enough to get what they want or needed. I took a quick shower and stepped out of the bathroom dripping wet. I walked along the carpeted wall leaving wet footprints and drops of water falling from my hair and body.
I step back into my room to see that my mother must've stepped in here while I was showering because my clothes were picked out for the day. I dry myself off and wrap the towel around my hair so it could dry. I put on the white blouse and red skirt that my mother laid out for me and finish it off with a thin red ribbon tied into a bow around my neck. I put on the red socks that were under the outfit and the brown boots that laid in the box under my bed. My hair should be dry by now so I take the towel and throw it on my bed. Perfectly dry. I walk out of my room and down the stairs to the living room.
This even bigger and more spacious room had dark red wood and red carpeting like almost every other room in my house. But this room was to display our family trophies. I walk into the kitchen. I see my father reading the newspaper like he always does every morning. He turned to look at me with a smile slowly peering on his face.
Father: Well, good morning birthday girl.
Ib: Morning father.
Father: How's my little girl doing this morning?
Ib: Fine.
My put his paper down on the table and walked over to me. He knelt and patted my head.
Father: Could you at least smile today? It is your ninth birthday today.
Ib: I know father, but don't you think it's a little trivial to be over joyed just because I'm turning nine?
He stared at me for a second with what seemed like confusion. He then let out a hearty laugh thinking that it might make me laugh along with him. It didn't.
Mother: That's enough dear. Ib, come sit at the table and eat.
I did as my mother said and went over to the chair I always sat at for several meals a day. Father followed me and lifted me up into my chair. I smiled when he did this. When settled into my chair, mother sat my plate of food in front of me. I didn't care what was in front of me as I picked up my fork and began to civilly eat my breakfast.
Mother: Are you happy about today Ib?
I look at my mother with a passive look. Yes I was confused but I didn't want her to know that.
Ib: Happy about what mother?
Mother: Me and your father took the day off today so we could take you to the new art museum that features art from the famous artist Guertena.
Ib: I heard about him at school.
Father: Yeah, his art is said to be, "morbidly relaxing and comforting," and that's from the hardest critic to please in the newspapers.
I go back to eating instead of listening to my parents babble about some dead old man's forgotten art work. I finish eating and drink a glass of water that my mother sat down on the table for me. When I set the glass down I see a white box with a red bow on it. I look up to my parents to see a smile on both their faces.
Ib: What's this?
Father: Your mother and I decided to get you a gift.
Mother: You never really ask for anything, and even if you wanted something you always found a way to get it yourself without any help from your father nor I.
Father: Long story short? Just open your present sweetheart.
I did as father suggested and opened the box. It was a handkerchief with my name stitched in blue. Looking at the glee my parents display waiting for my response I smile half heartedly. They fell for my smile and smiled even harder.
Mother: Since your finished eating why don't we head out for the museum now.
Father: That sounds good, but we need to hurry or there'll be no parking spot left.
Father Stood from his chair and helped me out of mine. Mother hastily cleant the dishes while I stood in the living room looking at the trophies this family earned. My father comes down stairs in his dark mahogany suit and matching shoes and black tie. Mother runs past me and up the stairs. Not even five minutes later she comes down in a crimson red dress, a small black jacket, black heels and a red purse.
Father: That was fast.
Mother: Well I wanted to look good for Ib today.
Father: Ok. I'll go start the car.
Father left out the door while mother searched for the house keys. She finally found them next to the mail on the glass table. She turned to me seeing that I was still sitting on the couch watching her.
Mother: C'mon Ib we have to go.
I stand and walk over to her so we could walk out together.
Mother: Wait, don't forget your handkerchief darling.
Ib: Yes mother!
I ran back to the kitchen and snatched the soft silk cloth from the box it sat in. I folded it neatly and put it in my skirt pocket. I run back into the living room and out the front door with mother closely behind me after locking the front door. I climbed into the back seat and strapped myself in. Mother got in the passengers seat and put her seat belt on as well. Father looked back at me with a smile on his face.
Father: Your going to have fun today sweetheart. I promise.
But little did we all know that this day, my birthday, that it was going to be chock full of unnatural surprises.
Off to your doom in this gallery of hell, hold your friend close because this story is sad to tell. As her words are not spoken but her feelings are loud, this nine-year-old girl shall brave this horrid world, no doubt.