I thought this car was getting smaller on me. The disturbing music on the radio was by Adrian Von Ziegler, a composer, and the music was scaring me so I changed it to FM radio. "Rosa." Mrs Adder asked.
"Yes?" I answered.
"Are you excited?"
"Depends."
"Well, you'll be by the residences of Nevermore Hill and Evergreen Forest."
"Mhm, Sandra. Anyway, Evergreen Forest sounds nice. Peaceful, and full of country people that play normal music."
"Oh look! We've reached our destination."
Sandra turned off the car and we reached 'MoreGreen Way'. Two hills stood in our path, each one bearing a wooden sign. I started to walk of to Evergreen forest, where layed beautiful grass, green and lush; trees as tall as the clouds, with dark green leaves and sturdy bark armour; cosy cottages like Granny Cabins and animals, joyous and wild in large farm-pens. "Thanks Sand-" I started to say.
"Wrong way. The Grendines of Nevermore Hill are going to take you in proudly. Their sturdy mansion may look tall and scary but the Grendines are warm hearted and take fosters in nicely. Usually, they keep the children. I think you'll like a few of the Grendines there, most of them are your age, Rosa."
"Sure."
I took the path down Evergreen Forest back onto the pavement, and entered through the gates of Nevermore Hill onto dead grass, beaten, squashed and old; a dusty, grey path inbetween de-barked trees with spikes as branches with one, black leaf and a mansion before me, grandiose and tall with turrets, about four as far as I can see, eggplant walls and a thick, concrete ceiling that looked as if it were to fall upon the house and demolish it. Sandra smiled and waved goodbye as I rang the doorbell to the house. Strangely, it was quite a jolly nursery rhyme. It was 'Ring-a-ring-a roses', and then at the end you heard someone coughing. I don't know if the coughing was meant to be there or not but if it was, it reminds me of the plague. I shook off the disturbed feeling and straightened out my argyle tights, and ruffled my dotty sweater that lengthed out like a dress. I held two black suitcases behind me, and my white rose in my left hand.
Two people arrived at the door, two twins. One girl, one boy. The boy wore a red tuxedo- shirt with a turtle-neck like collar, a white and black vertically striped vest with black pants and oxford grandfather shoes. The girl, on the other hand, wore a burgandy and red dress that poofed out at the skirt, the hemline was white and she wore a rose choker that of lace. Her pinafore was a dark blue and draped down like an apron. She smiled blankly at me for a few moments, as she twiddled her black hair. Her skin was deathly pale, unlike mine that was carribean sun kissed. I guess my carribean mother and my British father made a strange little girl with a white rose that didn't suit her at all. "Hello!" A female voice beamed creepily, snapping me out of my trance a little.
"Hi!" I said back, trying to sound jolly.
"My name is Lucia Grendine! My brother here is Lucius, and we are two of the five children of Ann and Byron Grendine. You must be Rosa?"
"I am indeed."
"I'll show you inside." Said Lucius, who bowed and took my hand welcomingly.
