In the little quiet town of Mansing, New York, there was a tiny house house on Oak Street.
It was an old house, but still quite beautiful.
It was victorian styled, made of wood.
It was white with a blue trim, the paint peeling.
The grass grew tall and huge.
Flowers accompineied the cobblestone walkway to the front door.
A wrap around porch held it's signifigance, even with the ugly brown wood lying on it.
An iron gate out front to keep out intruders, and the woods as the backyard playground for this house.
An old grand Oak tree stood out front, still growning huge and tall, even after 150.
This is where the road lying in front of the house got it's namesake.
Inside were many rooms, all small but cozy.
In the parlor was a fireplace, and in the kitchen was a wood stove.
Yes this house was as pretty as could be.
But the thing that made this house so special was the family that lived in it.
And the history behind that family.
Well one day the eldest daughter of this family came home from school.
She was a beautiful teenage girl.
Dark brown hair and stunning sea green eyes.
She saw something that day at school, that made her feel ashamed.
A boy was bullied.
An Irish boy.
He had just moved here from Dubland.
He had Brown curly hair, and green eyes...kinda like her.
Anyway he got provoked by these boys, and he beat them to a pulp.
A teacher nearby came and saw what looked like a new bully at school So the boy got suspended insted of the others.
The girl had witnessed everything, and said nothing to prove the boy's innocence.
She was scared that the actual bullies would come after her next.
So she stayed silent.
Her parents were home, and noticed she was more withdrawn than most days.
When they asked, she finally broke down and started to cry.
She told her parents about her cowardice, and the boy, and the bullies.
Her parents stayed silent after hearing the events of today.
"Honey, I'm going to take her upstairs, to the attic."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
Her mom left to the kitchen and her told the girl to go up to the attic with him.
She nodded, and went upstairs.
Opening the door, they went into a big, triangular room, filled with stuff from the late 1800's to the late 1980's.
He dad went to a trunk and opened it.
He took out a hat, a faded colorful bag, a brown coat that had patches on the elbows, a small box, a book, and a picture.
The girl by then had stopped crying and stared at her father.
"Daddy, what is all of this stuff?"
Her dad smiled and sighed.
"This stuff belonged to your Great grandparents. My father gave me this diary to read, that I'm going to give to you.
The girl nodded. "Yeah."
Her father sighed.
"Now,- He gave her the book-, read until you stop. Read out loud. Now start with the first page until the end. I'm gonna go downstairs. Are you okay up here?"
"Yes."
"Alrighty then." Her father got up and exited the room.
She opened her mouth after he left, and the story began.
It was an old house, but still quite beautiful.
It was victorian styled, made of wood.
It was white with a blue trim, the paint peeling.
The grass grew tall and huge.
Flowers accompineied the cobblestone walkway to the front door.
A wrap around porch held it's signifigance, even with the ugly brown wood lying on it.
An iron gate out front to keep out intruders, and the woods as the backyard playground for this house.
An old grand Oak tree stood out front, still growning huge and tall, even after 150.
This is where the road lying in front of the house got it's namesake.
Inside were many rooms, all small but cozy.
In the parlor was a fireplace, and in the kitchen was a wood stove.
Yes this house was as pretty as could be.
But the thing that made this house so special was the family that lived in it.
And the history behind that family.
Well one day the eldest daughter of this family came home from school.
She was a beautiful teenage girl.
Dark brown hair and stunning sea green eyes.
She saw something that day at school, that made her feel ashamed.
A boy was bullied.
An Irish boy.
He had just moved here from Dubland.
He had Brown curly hair, and green eyes...kinda like her.
Anyway he got provoked by these boys, and he beat them to a pulp.
A teacher nearby came and saw what looked like a new bully at school So the boy got suspended insted of the others.
The girl had witnessed everything, and said nothing to prove the boy's innocence.
She was scared that the actual bullies would come after her next.
So she stayed silent.
Her parents were home, and noticed she was more withdrawn than most days.
When they asked, she finally broke down and started to cry.
She told her parents about her cowardice, and the boy, and the bullies.
Her parents stayed silent after hearing the events of today.
"Honey, I'm going to take her upstairs, to the attic."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
Her mom left to the kitchen and her told the girl to go up to the attic with him.
She nodded, and went upstairs.
Opening the door, they went into a big, triangular room, filled with stuff from the late 1800's to the late 1980's.
He dad went to a trunk and opened it.
He took out a hat, a faded colorful bag, a brown coat that had patches on the elbows, a small box, a book, and a picture.
The girl by then had stopped crying and stared at her father.
"Daddy, what is all of this stuff?"
Her dad smiled and sighed.
"This stuff belonged to your Great grandparents. My father gave me this diary to read, that I'm going to give to you.
The girl nodded. "Yeah."
Her father sighed.
"Now,- He gave her the book-, read until you stop. Read out loud. Now start with the first page until the end. I'm gonna go downstairs. Are you okay up here?"
"Yes."
"Alrighty then." Her father got up and exited the room.
She opened her mouth after he left, and the story began.