Please Don't Read

Chapter One

Chapter One: A New Setting

Few pleasant things occurred during my childhood, especially when a particularly strange summer found its way into the plot line that is my life. It is the account of said summer vacation that I feel compelled to relay to you, dear reader, in the fine hope that passing on my knowledge of it will help me out of the dire situation I find myself in. I do not, however, feel that my current predicament is of importance at the moment. No, my only purpose for writing this now is to make known my history, so that the present might be better understood later.

The first thing that you must know is that I had company in my adventure: a few relations of mine were unfortunate enough to partake in the journey with me, although I have never known if it affected them the way it did me. They were several cousins and my two sisters, these relations. They were also the only family I had been aware of, aside from my aunt and parents. Then Mother decided, apparently on a whim, that we would all be staying at a mansion belonging to some grandmother - whom I had never heard of before - for the duration of our summer vacation.

That was when I began to question everything in my life.

***

Sitting in the front seat of Mother's carriage, facing backward at the places we were leaving behind, I reflected upon everything I thought I knew about my family. I had thought that we were all quite ordinary people, being equally as peculiar as anybody else I was acquainted with. My elder sister, Benedicta, was admittedly a pretty girl, with higher-than-average intelligence, too. Benedicta had a knack for inventing, though she also enjoyed making maps of the city we lived in, learning about all the different types of fungi, navigation, writing, designing, cooking, and making different crafts. But the thing she loved to do most was read. Her favorite book, I remember, had been about three children who shared our last name: Océanne. Those were the basic parts of my sister's personality. She was too modest to agree with anything else. I'd always admired her modesty.

I looked out the window in the door to my left, observing how odd the scenery seemed, rushing past a carriage that was seemingly still. The illusion was very striking to my thirteen-year-old mind. Indeed, I stared, wondering, at it for several silent minutes before bringing myself back to my thoughts.

My family was normal, right? No, I reasoned, most families knew all of their close relatives. I hadn't even known about Grandmother until Mother told me that I had to live with her for two whole months. As far as I knew, there were probably other relatives I didn't know about. But what were the odds of that?

My mother, sitting in the seat opposite me, started to talk, nagging at us about manners and etiquette - a word that I'd never heard before, but supposed it meant something along the lines of "the way most people expect you to behave." Benedicta and Luna - my younger sister - listened attentively to her lecture, while I worried about more pressing matters. Mother refused to tell us anything about Grandmother, something we all noticed.

"What is her name?" asked Benedicta. "It can't possibly be 'Grandmother.' Nobody would name their daughter that."

"Again, Benedicta, it wouldn't make sense to tell you, as you are to call her Grandmother. Perhaps she might tell you, if you asked her."

We rode the rest of the way in total silence. My cousins and sisters sat, cramped, on each side of Mother and me. Rain pounded on the windows and lightning split the sky. Raging wind and clashing thunder made me all the more nervous about visiting Grandmother; its unpredictability reminded me that I had absolutely no idea what would happen when we got to her mansion. She lived outside the city, between the woods and the lake near the country's border. Perhaps there would be plenty of things to do in the calmness of it?