Vespertilio91
New Member
All I ask is for reviews, comments, and ideas. Thanks so much! The narrator in this story is named Andrea; she is a young girl living in the forests of Romania with her family. This is only an excerpt from the story, and I may not be able to answer all your questions because the novel is still in progress. I hope you enjoy, and PLEASE criticize. I can take it.
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I stood at the family well, lowering the bucket by a rope to the precious waters below. This was the only thing on this land my family truly owned. We were a peasant family; my father worked in the fields by our undersized home in the heart of Romania’s cropland. My mother worked as a seamstress from out of our home. Both worked many hours a day, from sunup to sundown to make the measly amount of money that supplied our family with food and shelter. Our house was not nearly large enough for six people, my two brothers, me, my parents, and grandmamma, but we managed. My brothers helped my father in the lords’ fields while I needled stitches with mama, and grandmamma cleaned the house and cooked our supper.
Slowly, I raised the full bucket and grabbed it off its hook and held its handle in both hands. When I was little, I thought it to be extremely heavy, but now it seemed as light as a breeze of air.
I walked the half-mile stretch back to our home slowly, careful not to spill any. Along the way, I decided to pick a bouquet of wildflowers for mama. It was her birthday, and I wanted her to feel special. Nobody could afford a present, but we still did the best we could, and I dearly loved my mama. A bouquet would just brighten her day. She wouldn’t mind that I took ten minutes to gather one.
So I strolled into the meadow. I began to select the prettiest heather for the bunch when it caught my eye. A beautiful black rose, as dark as the midnight sky, and as smooth as silk. Mama loved roses, and black ones were especially rare in the Romanian lands. I tiptoed through the high grass to the edge of the wood where it grew. Shadows shifted, but I didn’t take notice; I was too busy trying to save the rose for my mama, hoping with all my might that someone didn’t come out of the inner forest and snatch it from the vine before me. Once there, I stood by its side for one moment, just glancing at its splendor and taking a small breath from run. All I remember from then on is the eternal blackness that surrounded me.
The only thoughts racing through my disoriented mind when I finally arose from my blackout was the thought “Where am I? What’s going on? Why does my head hurt?” My vision was blurred; all I could see was shapeless forms of forest green and muddy brown. A black figure sat in the midst of these two colors. I couldn’t decipher what it was, but my gut told me it couldn’t be good.
I was sitting up, but I felt like I could lie down and sleep forever. I just sat there, legs crossed, head spinning while I waited for either the blackness to consume me or my vision to clear. Luckily, the latter was to be. The mysterious figure sat and stared at me with two crimson eyes that seem to be void of everything from love to hope to despair.
Finally, my vision totally cleared, and my pupils adjusted to the lack of light. For the first time, I saw the land around me…it was thick in underbrush while great trees towered over my tiny body. Two logs lie across from each other, and in the middle, a flame roars. Someone, or something, sat on the log opposite me. Without a word, I stand up and casually walk over to the log and sit at its middle where the flames are so close, they almost lick my feet. I try to hide my fear, but my heart races and sweat pours from my forehead. I must look like a wreck!
The figure does not move at all. He just stares at me. I gape back at him, sure to catch every detail possible in case I escape. Noticing my fear and my eyes’ glaring, he finally speaks.
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I stood at the family well, lowering the bucket by a rope to the precious waters below. This was the only thing on this land my family truly owned. We were a peasant family; my father worked in the fields by our undersized home in the heart of Romania’s cropland. My mother worked as a seamstress from out of our home. Both worked many hours a day, from sunup to sundown to make the measly amount of money that supplied our family with food and shelter. Our house was not nearly large enough for six people, my two brothers, me, my parents, and grandmamma, but we managed. My brothers helped my father in the lords’ fields while I needled stitches with mama, and grandmamma cleaned the house and cooked our supper.
Slowly, I raised the full bucket and grabbed it off its hook and held its handle in both hands. When I was little, I thought it to be extremely heavy, but now it seemed as light as a breeze of air.
I walked the half-mile stretch back to our home slowly, careful not to spill any. Along the way, I decided to pick a bouquet of wildflowers for mama. It was her birthday, and I wanted her to feel special. Nobody could afford a present, but we still did the best we could, and I dearly loved my mama. A bouquet would just brighten her day. She wouldn’t mind that I took ten minutes to gather one.
So I strolled into the meadow. I began to select the prettiest heather for the bunch when it caught my eye. A beautiful black rose, as dark as the midnight sky, and as smooth as silk. Mama loved roses, and black ones were especially rare in the Romanian lands. I tiptoed through the high grass to the edge of the wood where it grew. Shadows shifted, but I didn’t take notice; I was too busy trying to save the rose for my mama, hoping with all my might that someone didn’t come out of the inner forest and snatch it from the vine before me. Once there, I stood by its side for one moment, just glancing at its splendor and taking a small breath from run. All I remember from then on is the eternal blackness that surrounded me.
The only thoughts racing through my disoriented mind when I finally arose from my blackout was the thought “Where am I? What’s going on? Why does my head hurt?” My vision was blurred; all I could see was shapeless forms of forest green and muddy brown. A black figure sat in the midst of these two colors. I couldn’t decipher what it was, but my gut told me it couldn’t be good.
I was sitting up, but I felt like I could lie down and sleep forever. I just sat there, legs crossed, head spinning while I waited for either the blackness to consume me or my vision to clear. Luckily, the latter was to be. The mysterious figure sat and stared at me with two crimson eyes that seem to be void of everything from love to hope to despair.
Finally, my vision totally cleared, and my pupils adjusted to the lack of light. For the first time, I saw the land around me…it was thick in underbrush while great trees towered over my tiny body. Two logs lie across from each other, and in the middle, a flame roars. Someone, or something, sat on the log opposite me. Without a word, I stand up and casually walk over to the log and sit at its middle where the flames are so close, they almost lick my feet. I try to hide my fear, but my heart races and sweat pours from my forehead. I must look like a wreck!
The figure does not move at all. He just stares at me. I gape back at him, sure to catch every detail possible in case I escape. Noticing my fear and my eyes’ glaring, he finally speaks.
