After finally turning eighteen, Aspen, and her best friend Margot, follow their dreams and travel to France. Leaving behind the only home they ever knew was difficult, but embarking on a new journey sounds too tempting.
Meeting some long-lost relat...
I've always hated the dark. Just thinking of the creatures that may be lurking in the shadows makes my stomach churn. Lack of control. You cannot control things in the dark. Unpredictability. What else is out there? What is being kept from you?
I've spent a few years of my life in the dark. Feeling alone was the worst part of it. I would speak to the darkness, in hopes someone would eventually come for me. The silence was the loudest sound.
"Aspen, we need to start getting dinner ready!" Margot interrupts my playing. I had just hit the second verse of Claire de Lune. The piano helps me calm down; it takes the silence away.
Margot was one of the few that I've opened up to. She's my closest friend, my only family. She was not always the easiest to open up to, but once you knew her, you had a friend for life. Her most prominent feature is her cat-shaped hazel eyes. That, at her hickory colored hair that fell just above her shoulders. Magot was classy beautiful, no matter what time of day it was, she was always photo-ready.
"Sorry, Maggie, I forgot." I apologize. We all had jobs to do at the orphanage. This week, Margot and I were on kitchen duty.
"Well, get up, my little piano prodigy," She rolls her eyes in response. I brush out my skirt as I rise from the sleek black piano.
"Margot, I am taller than you, you know." I chuckle lightly. "What are we making tonight?" I add. while we walk through the halls of the orphanage. Margot was pretty short, barely standing at 5'1. Whereas I was about 5'6, my legs were almost double the size of my short best friend.
It was surprisingly a big building. I was lucky to have been placed in a decent establishment when I was young. Starting life out by being left on a doorstep was not the greatest beginning, let me tell you. The orphanage had over twenty-five rooms, where we would bunk with 2-3 kids each. There were two kitchens, ten bathrooms, a few common rooms, and luckily a music area. Most of the staff or "mothers" were very nice to us. Miss Eleanor was my favourite, I consider her my surrogate mother at this point. She always makes sure I get piano time every day, and for that, I love her endlessly.
"Vegetable soup. Jake is already cutting potatoes and carrots as we speak." She replies. Jake was another one of my closest friends at the orphanage. He was the trouble maker of our little group and could easily convince anyone to do anything. He looked like a classic surfer boy with his blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. His laid-back and flirty personality only further contributed to the stereotype.
