Nine-year-old Y/n is a young girl with a wild imagination and a stubborn personality.
She finds herself moving in to live in her grandparents' house after they passed away along with her older brother and parents. As Y/n goes through her grandparent...
"Hey, CussCuss," I called my older brother over as we searched the attic.
Marcus rolled his eyes. He hates it when I call him that. "What?"
"Look what I found." I raised the thing up to show him.
"A mirror," he said. Then -being my brother- he added sarcastically, "Cool."
I pulled the mirror to my chest in defense. "It is cool."
He shrugged. "Whatever." And started going through another box.
I frowned at him. Rude. Then turned to the fancy mirror. I eyed the golden frame around it. On the top were two words carved into the glass:
The Storian
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It took me a second to realize that I was looking at the mirror, since it didn't reflect my face, but the wall behind me. I shook my head then turned to it again. Nope. Still the wall.
"Marcus?" I said, "Marcus, tell me the truth, am I a vampire?"
He turned to me with a sneer. The darkness of the attic making it hard to see his face. The only light came from the plate-sized window on the wall.
"Sure you are," he replied. "And I'm the Tooth Fairy."
I was thinking maybe I just reached the age where my vampire abilities would reveal my true identities but Marcus' tone made me try to think of other explanation.
"Am I invisible to you?" I asked, then realized that it was a stupid question since he was looking directly at me.
He rolled his eyes (he does that a lot). "I wish you were, if you want me to be honest."
I sighed. No use of talking to a stubborn three-year-older brother.
I stood up from my crouch and hurried down the ladder stuffing the mirror in my pocket as I go.
"Where you going?"
"None of your business."
I entered my room, shut the door and double locked it, I was pretty happy that my room had keys.
My old bedroom door's was lost, like, ever since my parents mover in together.
My grandparents passed away leaving the house empty for my family. Dad always wanted to move into a nice neighborhood like this.
Grandpa died first, five years ago. Now Grandma passed away last month. Mom was a crying mess which scared me. I didn't know my grandpa, but eversince he was gone, Mom made us visit Grandma every Friday, after school.
She'd make us gooey chocolate chip cookies or brownies or peach pies. They were always the best. She was the best.
The person who'd made my greatest memories had become one as well. The thought of her not being able to wrap me in her arms made my throat tighten.
