Chapter 1

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     I yawned and stretched. Another boring, old day. I got up, throwing my covers on the floor. I glanced at the time and then down at my grandmother's old quilt. Should I make my bed? "Sorry, Gram!" I whispered to the quilt, "I don't have the time!" I yanked off my pj's and pulled on a pair of socks, a pair of old, holey, blue jeans, and an aqua short-sleeve shirt.

     I ran down the hall and into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I also yanked a brush through my long, snarly, black, mess of hair. I stared at my face in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, wishing my skin would be a few shades darker than the startling white it is. Some people think I'm dying, or at least really sick, because of my whiter than white skin. I assure you, I am NOT dead or un-dead. I'm just a freak of nature... oh well. At least my eyes are cool. They always were my favorite feature: a pretty aqua with flecks of silver and black in them. Beautiful, I tell you. I get complimented on them a lot. I also have long, dark, black eyelashes, so my eyes look big and are framed prettily.

     "Are you coming, Shanna, dear?" my mom called from downstairs, "We need to start breakfast!"

     I whipped around and faced the clock. It read 5:28 a.m. We were running late! I bolted down the stairs, not caring about making my bed or anything else. I knew we couldn't be late.

     I smiled at my mom when I got downstairs. She had her light brown hair tucked in a tight bun, but I knew by the end of the day, it would have all fallen out of the bun. She smiled at me and said, "Good morning, Honey. Ready to go?"

     I nodded yes, knowing full well that all I was ready for was sleep, but I had a job to do. I couldn't afford to slack off.

     My mom gave me a knowing look and walked through the open door. I followed silently, pausing as I looked at the dew on the grass and the bright morning light.

     Summer was always beautiful here. I followed my mom as she walked down the long, winding dirt path through the woods. I sighed as I saw the birds chirping a pretty song and the squirrels ran around, chasing each other up trees. I could even see a doe with her young drinking from a stream as we crossed over the bridge. It was very peaceful, and I knew that I wouldn't trade this-my- life for anything.

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     I flipped the pancake and put it on the pile by all the other ones. Mmmmmmmmmmmm! They smelled so good! I sighed, wishing I could have one. I knew I couldn't, because the patrons need to eat first, or they'd complain instead of spread the word that we are here' or, at least, that's what my mom says. I won't complain, but, sometimes, I think she's more of a business woman than a mother. That's only sometimes, though. She can be a great mom, too!

     I flipped another one onto the plate and poured the rest of the batter into the pan. My mouth was watering as they sizzled. I wanted one so bad. I was just about to sneak one when the kitchen door opened revealing my mom.

     "Are they done yet?" She asked me, too busy bustling around the kitchen to notice my hand hovering over the plate of newly made pancakes. I lowered it quickly, not wanting to get in trouble.

     "Yes, mom. This is the last of them." I pointed to the pan the pancakes were in. They were almost the perfect golden brown color, so I flipped them onto the plate and handed it to my mom.

     "Good, Thank you, Hon," she said, grabbing the plate and running back out the kitchen door. I rolled my eyes at her. She was so busy these days. After my dad disappeared 2 years ago, running the inn got a lot harder. We had to start hiring more people to work for us and do more manual labor. We didn't even get much time to look for him. We hardly got to grieve. I know we both miss him alot and that it's been hard. That's why I have to work so hard. I have to make up for my dad's disappearance, so that we don't have to give up the inn. I would die if that happened. It's the only thing I have left of my dad.

     I shook my head clear of all the sad thoughts and followed my mom out the door. She was hurrying around, trying to please every person there. I gave her a smile as she passed me, carrying a tray of eggs and bacon on it. She gave me a strained smile back and stopped at a table near me to serve them the food. I walked up to an elderly couple and asked them what they wanted to eat.

     "What's that, Deary?" said the woman, "Speak up."I frowned inside my head but gave them a big, fake smiled and repeated the question louder.

     "Oh, I'd like a decaf coffee and some eggs with bacon. Thank you. Oh, and maybe some toast." she told me.

     I smiled and nodded, writing it down on a piece of paper. Then I turned to the man. "What would you like, sir?" I asked.

     He sat there looking at me, and I thought he was thinking. I waited a little bit and then asked again. Maybe he hadn't heard me. "Um, Sir, what would you like to eat?"

     He still sat in the same position, not even reacting to my voice. The woman looked up at me and said, "He's deaf, hon. He'll take what I'm having."

     I nodded and ran to the kitchen. I quickly grabbed two plates and piled on the food they had wanted. I had to make some coffee for them, though. I buttered the toast and waited for the coffee. Once it was done, I brought them their food.

     "There you go! Have a good day." I smiled at them.

     The old woman smiled back at me and said, ""Thank you so much, hon! You know, you remind me of my granddaughter. She was a lot like you, before she died. Hard working and sweet. Now, you have a good day, too."

     I beamed. "Thanks!" Then I remembered, "And I'm sorry to hear she died..." I walked away. It was so nice of her to say that I was hard working and sweet, but how was she so positive? That lady was so cheery, yet her husband was deaf and her granddaughter was dead. Plus, they were very old, nearing dead too! I didn't get it. I could never be that positive and be nice to others, as well. It was just too weird.

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