Miranda held out the last note of Pachabel's Cannon and opened her eyes. Of course, she was still alone, as she had been when she started the piece.
She did this a lot. Whenever she was bored and had nothing to do, she would go outside and play to the grapes. They weren't much of an audience, but they were better than her parents, when they were home. Today they were at a dinner party.
Miranda put her violin back in its case and walked down the rows of grapevines toward her house. She stopped to open the door, then went inside.
Miranda's three-story house was the kind of place that someone who didn't know the place would get lost in. It had winding staircases and long hallways, and even a little hiding place that Miranda didn't think her parents knew about.
It was a little room at the end of a small, narrow hallway that had become Miranda's own little clubhouse ... only without a club. She was right at home here, with her chemistry set and pictures of her favorite heavy metal bands lining the walls. A few years ago, she had learned that the room was remarkably soundproof and she could play her music as loud as she wanted without disturbing anyone.
Today she didn't feel like doing experiments like she usually did. Instead, she turned on her music and just sat in her chair, thinking.
Her parents were going out once again, and they had (once again) left her at home by herself. Well, not completely by herself. There was the cook, but that was it, and she wasn't that much fun to be around anyway. The naturally introverted part of her was happy this way. She minded her own business while her parents did the same, but there was a small part of her that wanted *real* parents.
Okay, so technically, she did have real parents, they *were* her biological mother and father, but her parents didn't really act like parents.
It wasn't that they were bad people. There wasn't anything wrong with them, they just weren't cut out to be parents. They basically had this little girl that they didn't know what to do with, so they just kinda let her raise herself.
Sometimes she reminded herself that she *should* be thankful because she had gotten such a good life, but no matter how hard she tried, she always found herself wishing that she could just have a normal life. She wanted to live in a normal house with normal parents. She could even live with having a normal yard. The grapevines weren't much fun anyway.
No matter how hard she wished, it would never come true. She was stuck with the life she had gotten.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Miranda stared at her blank piece of paper. There was absolutely no way she was going to be able to write this essay. It was an essay on a favorite family moment, but when she looked back, she realized she didn't have any family moments to choose from.
That's what she told the teacher, but she had just said that everyone has family moments. She obviously didn't know Miranda's family.
Miranda sighed. She knew she had to write something, but what was she supposed to write? Maybe she could make something up.
She didn't know. She was stumped.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Miranda sat under a tree in the playground at school. The tree had branches that had gone so long without trimming that they touched the ground and provided her with the perfect leafy hideout. She had acquired a lot of hideouts over the years. She did this because she knew that if people saw her sitting alone, they would instinctively come over and ask, "Are you all right?"
That got to be so annoying. It was like they had never seen an introvert before. They don't realize that some people prefer their own company over others. Not that the others were bad, she just wasn't part of any of those cliques.
Then there were the teachers.
"Miranda does very good work, but she's very quiet,"
So what was wrong with being quiet? Why was it that everyone thought that "extrovert" was a synonym for "normal"?
Of course, she wasn't normal. She was far from it.
What kind of person listens to heavy metal *and* classical music? What kind of person is more interested in chemistry than PE? Is there anyone who wouldn't trade her for her life in a heartbeat? Of course, those people don't know that lonely feeling she got in the pit of her stomach when she was in the middle of her huge house, with no one else there.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Miranda was back in her clubhouse, but this time, she was listening to Faure's Requiem. She was entranced by the music.
Lux aeterna,
Luceat eius,
Luceat eius, domine.
This was her favorite part of the piece. It had a mysterious beauty about it. It almost made her feel like she was underwater. She could close her eyes and just imagine the beauty of it.
She didn't notice someone coming in.
"It's amazing what you've done with this place," Miranda turned around to see her grandmother standing in the doorway.
"Grandmum!" she jumped from her chair and gave her grandmother a huge hug, "How did you know I was here?"
"This was my little hideout when I was your age," Grandmum said, "I figured you would have discovered it by now."
Miranda's jaw dropped, "This was *your* hideout?"
"Of course!" Grandmum replied, "Being the introvert that I was, I needed a place to be alone."
Miranda smiled. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one.
She did this a lot. Whenever she was bored and had nothing to do, she would go outside and play to the grapes. They weren't much of an audience, but they were better than her parents, when they were home. Today they were at a dinner party.
Miranda put her violin back in its case and walked down the rows of grapevines toward her house. She stopped to open the door, then went inside.
Miranda's three-story house was the kind of place that someone who didn't know the place would get lost in. It had winding staircases and long hallways, and even a little hiding place that Miranda didn't think her parents knew about.
It was a little room at the end of a small, narrow hallway that had become Miranda's own little clubhouse ... only without a club. She was right at home here, with her chemistry set and pictures of her favorite heavy metal bands lining the walls. A few years ago, she had learned that the room was remarkably soundproof and she could play her music as loud as she wanted without disturbing anyone.
Today she didn't feel like doing experiments like she usually did. Instead, she turned on her music and just sat in her chair, thinking.
Her parents were going out once again, and they had (once again) left her at home by herself. Well, not completely by herself. There was the cook, but that was it, and she wasn't that much fun to be around anyway. The naturally introverted part of her was happy this way. She minded her own business while her parents did the same, but there was a small part of her that wanted *real* parents.
Okay, so technically, she did have real parents, they *were* her biological mother and father, but her parents didn't really act like parents.
It wasn't that they were bad people. There wasn't anything wrong with them, they just weren't cut out to be parents. They basically had this little girl that they didn't know what to do with, so they just kinda let her raise herself.
Sometimes she reminded herself that she *should* be thankful because she had gotten such a good life, but no matter how hard she tried, she always found herself wishing that she could just have a normal life. She wanted to live in a normal house with normal parents. She could even live with having a normal yard. The grapevines weren't much fun anyway.
No matter how hard she wished, it would never come true. She was stuck with the life she had gotten.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Miranda stared at her blank piece of paper. There was absolutely no way she was going to be able to write this essay. It was an essay on a favorite family moment, but when she looked back, she realized she didn't have any family moments to choose from.
That's what she told the teacher, but she had just said that everyone has family moments. She obviously didn't know Miranda's family.
Miranda sighed. She knew she had to write something, but what was she supposed to write? Maybe she could make something up.
She didn't know. She was stumped.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Miranda sat under a tree in the playground at school. The tree had branches that had gone so long without trimming that they touched the ground and provided her with the perfect leafy hideout. She had acquired a lot of hideouts over the years. She did this because she knew that if people saw her sitting alone, they would instinctively come over and ask, "Are you all right?"
That got to be so annoying. It was like they had never seen an introvert before. They don't realize that some people prefer their own company over others. Not that the others were bad, she just wasn't part of any of those cliques.
Then there were the teachers.
"Miranda does very good work, but she's very quiet,"
So what was wrong with being quiet? Why was it that everyone thought that "extrovert" was a synonym for "normal"?
Of course, she wasn't normal. She was far from it.
What kind of person listens to heavy metal *and* classical music? What kind of person is more interested in chemistry than PE? Is there anyone who wouldn't trade her for her life in a heartbeat? Of course, those people don't know that lonely feeling she got in the pit of her stomach when she was in the middle of her huge house, with no one else there.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Miranda was back in her clubhouse, but this time, she was listening to Faure's Requiem. She was entranced by the music.
Lux aeterna,
Luceat eius,
Luceat eius, domine.
This was her favorite part of the piece. It had a mysterious beauty about it. It almost made her feel like she was underwater. She could close her eyes and just imagine the beauty of it.
She didn't notice someone coming in.
"It's amazing what you've done with this place," Miranda turned around to see her grandmother standing in the doorway.
"Grandmum!" she jumped from her chair and gave her grandmother a huge hug, "How did you know I was here?"
"This was my little hideout when I was your age," Grandmum said, "I figured you would have discovered it by now."
Miranda's jaw dropped, "This was *your* hideout?"
"Of course!" Grandmum replied, "Being the introvert that I was, I needed a place to be alone."
Miranda smiled. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one.