by Guest Sat May 08, 2010 4:50 pm
Chapter One: Birthday Wishes
I stepped off the train early in the morning the sun was just beginning to rise. My mother had sent me to visit my father in London like she did every summer. But this time was different she was rather ill.
“Arabella,” I heard a familiar voice call as I gazed across the sea of people. “Miss Arabella, I’m here to take you to your fathers home.” It was James my fathers butler. “Good morning, James.” I said as I fallowed him to y fathers long black car. “Where is Daddy that keeps him from coming to meet me?” though I had grown accustom of this car and my fathers absence in the fourteen years I have lived I still question every time.
“Good Morning Miss and your father is on his way home from a business trip.” James replied as another man put my bags in the trunk and James helped me into the back. Then after James made sure everything was there Bert my fathers driver drove out to my dads home in the country about five miles out of town.
“Why doesn’t Daddy come and greet me?” I asked James who was not in the seat next to me.
“Your father is a rather busy man,” was James’s reply every time.
“That’s what you always say.” I accused.
“Then you ask if he really cares for you his only daughter, and of course he dose.” James laughed.
“I missed you James.” I said and hugged him.
“Of course you have Miss Arabella.” he said. Soon we were home (well my fathers home.) James and the maid took my bags to my room. Just like the many times before. I was the only child at my fathers house like always. All I had was James, Brigitte (the maid), Alex (the cook), Bert (the driver) and Inky the black lab who greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the car. Then Inky and I would sit on the front steep waiting for Daddy to get home. When my Father pulled up in the drive way Inky and I would run up to the car and he picked me up and spun me around like so many ties before.
“How’s my princess?” Daddy asks as he sets me down on my feet and hugs me.
“Wonderful Daddy! How about you?” I ask with my accent so different from his own. Daddy’s English and mine French with a little English thrown in.
“I’m having Alex cook your favorite dinner.” was his answer the same as so many years before.
“We always have my favorite dinner on the first night of my return.” I point out and he laughs. Y long blonde curls that matched his now slowly creeping down my back.
“You get more like your mother every time” he exclaims.
“Momma says I look like you.”
“yes but you act like your mother and you have her heavenly blue eyes.” He says and takes my hand and walks inside with me.” The reason we always had my favorite dinner besides daddy not seeing me for so long was it was always on my birthday that I arrived at his house. This year I had turned fifteen. That was like the only thing that changed each year. Each year there was a table in the dinning room filled with presents for me. Each year they grew in number, but decreased in size.
This year was the best of all. He had bought me some new dresses, some make-up many books, jewelry, and a diary. The diary was my Favorite just above the books. “think you Daddy,” I said as James brought us spaghetti. Then for dessert vanilla ice cream with strawberries on top. After dinner daddy walked e to my room before going to his office. I set at my small desk and began t o write. Dear Diary,
This is my first diary. I got it for my birthday. Instead of calling you a diary I shall calling you friend. The first I have had here in London. Hopefully not my last friend here since I may be here longer than expected due to my mothers illness. I so wish I could have stayed with her. Close the small diary and set to brushing my hair. I had arrived this morning then only had a few hours to spend with my father. Same as always I wish it would change. At least a little. I miss the way my father was before my parents got divorced and my mother took e to Paris.
Some time late into the night Brigitte the maid. Came into my room “Miss Arabella why are you up so late?” she asked with a French accent close to mine. The only difference is mine is stronger from being in France much more recently when Brigitte had lived here with y father for so long.
“I was brushing my hair and must have lost track of time.” I said setting the brush aside.
“Well your Father has a big day planed for tomorrow,” Brigitte said “You should get some sleep.”
“What dose my father have planed for tomorrow?”
“He asked that we not tell you.” Was all Brigitte said before leavening my room
I went over and clamed into the canopy bed I had so wanted when I was a little girl and went to sleep. As the sun rose Brigitte came in and opened the curtness letting the light in which woke me up. I got up and went in to take a bath before putting on one of my new dressed of a sunny yellow then went down to the dinning room table.
“Bonjour.” I said to my father as I sat down . He had his nose berried in the morning paper as always.
“morning Arabella,” he said still reading his paper “did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” I answered eating little for breakfast. “and you?”
“Good, and you should eat more.” daddy said “you look like a stick your so skinny.”
“daddy how am I suppose to be a ballerina if I’m to fat to lift?” I asked
“You aren’t going to be a ballerina. Your mother and I have decided to send you to a boarding school next year. They have sent up letters for the past four years. it’s a school for young l ladies like your self.” My father said folding up the paper.
I got up and left without saying a word. “I guess she didn’t like the news about school?” James asked
“I think she handled it rather well. Though I didn’t get to tell her it is so close she could come home every other weekend.” I herd there conversation as I started to cry. I didn’t want to go to a boarding school I wanted to spend more time with my father not have to worry about him having to leave for work. To have him notice me not ignore me.
“Do you want me to tell your father what he doesn’t see yet?” Brigitte asked. She had known how I had felt for so long
“I feel it won’t help.” I said
“Miss Arabella if you want your father to change then you must make him see. “ she said and hugged me “Just like all the other men in the world.”
Brigitte was right and that made me think of the perfect plan to make my father notice me instead of ignore me.
Chapter Two: Big Plans and Big Changes
More to come later.
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by Guest Mon May 10, 2010 11:48 am
i like it though i like the way you typed it in word better. to bad we don't know how to change the style of the text on here
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