hiya mon chéries! i am starting to write a novel, and heres a quick taster! NOTES: > any use of characters from this story without permissions will be reported and blacklisted. > i would love any feed back and constructive criticism! > suggestions are welcome <3
lets begin! Nina Haywood is a girl. Just a girl. A girl who enjoys exploring the outdoors and reading books. A girl who dreaded going to this new boarding school, Little Valley High. Nina was sent there, for her parents fell terribly ill all of a sudden, and therefore, her cruel aunty and uncle sent her away. She should be right next to her mother and father now, not at the entrance of this school, wearing a white blouse, blue skirt and jacket, and black shoes. Nina took a deep breath and walked into the school and Nina looked down at her feet. One step after another, Nina became closer to the front door, where an assistant teacher most likely was waiting to give her a map, a timetable, rules, ugh, more boring stuff. After each step, voices grew louder, and louder. ‘Wow, what a long walk from the front gate to the front door…’ she thought, coming up with lots of reasons why it should be a minute, easy walk, not a tiresome, feels-like-it's-never-going-to-end walk. At last, Nina reached the door. She pushed open the door and immediately this lady with a tight skirt came up to her with her chin up high. The lady's skirt was a light shade of red, and her blouse had many frills and bows. Her hair was tied up into a tight bun, and a single black hair clip sat on the left side of her head. Nina assumed this lady was actually very short, for she was wearing the tallest high heels she had ever seen. “You must be,” the lady said in an arrogant tone, then looked down at her clipboard. “Xenia Wilkinson?” Nina gave a confused expression. “Not even close, its-” The lady cut in. “Addison Flimton?” “No its-” “Bertha McDarrel?” “No-” “Catherine O’Lilly?” “No! It’s Nina Haywood!” Nina said, seething with irritation. The lady frowned at her and then looked down at the clipboard in her hands. “Ah,” the lady said. “Yes.” She flicked through the papers attached to her clipboard, and pulled out a folder, with a label on it reading ‘Nina Haywood’. The lady handed the folder to Nina and turned right around and trotted off.
