This chapter's even shorter, but vital to my plot. When I started writing
this chapter, which is so short I'm surprised I'm calling it that because
it's just four-sorry, FIVE, paragraphs long. That sentence was
grammatically fragile, if I flicked it, it'd fall apart... So, I don't
think Mrs. Phillips is like this, or that her name's Elizabeth, but
whatever.
Lady Phillips looked through her daughter's letter, growing more and more agitated with each word. As her eyes read the last word, she took the note and threw it in the air. She clapped her hands and a servant walked up to her. She glared at the servant for no reason whatsoever.
"Pack my bags. Fast. I'm going to America," Lady Phillips snapped.
The servant nodded nervously. She dismissed the poor girl with a wave of her hand and the servant shot off like a bullet. Her daughter was in jail with an American ruffian. A BRITISH jail, of all places. Ben Franklin was wrong. The colonies were not safe for her daughter.
Her servant raced into the room with a sloppily packed bag. Lady Phillips smiled falsely. She nodded and leapt into a coach for the nearest harbor. She bought a ticket for New York as soon as possible and climbed onboard the ship.
Her daughter was in prison with some rebel. Elizabeth Phillips sighed, gazing out at the Atlantic Ocean. People would most certainly pay for this. Starting with that American rebel. Ending with the guards surrounding her daughter. Her eyes were steely as she plotted revenge.
- Loren ;*
Read! Review! Update!
Lady Phillips looked through her daughter's letter, growing more and more agitated with each word. As her eyes read the last word, she took the note and threw it in the air. She clapped her hands and a servant walked up to her. She glared at the servant for no reason whatsoever.
"Pack my bags. Fast. I'm going to America," Lady Phillips snapped.
The servant nodded nervously. She dismissed the poor girl with a wave of her hand and the servant shot off like a bullet. Her daughter was in jail with an American ruffian. A BRITISH jail, of all places. Ben Franklin was wrong. The colonies were not safe for her daughter.
Her servant raced into the room with a sloppily packed bag. Lady Phillips smiled falsely. She nodded and leapt into a coach for the nearest harbor. She bought a ticket for New York as soon as possible and climbed onboard the ship.
Her daughter was in prison with some rebel. Elizabeth Phillips sighed, gazing out at the Atlantic Ocean. People would most certainly pay for this. Starting with that American rebel. Ending with the guards surrounding her daughter. Her eyes were steely as she plotted revenge.
- Loren ;*
Read! Review! Update!