Adding on my other story called the tale of the fleuries - is this better?
As I walked up the old, unstable stairs, I paused to look over my shoulder at the dark, twisted trees of the forest that bordered my grandmother’s house. A strange and sudden feeling came over me. It was as though some one was watching me. Quivering with fright I ran to the front door.
I found my grandmother fast asleep in her rocking chair. She awoke when my foot found that one creaky floor board. “Rosie, I’m glad you’re finally here,” she said to me. “I’ll show you your room.” I followed her down the hall way to my impeccably clean room with the view of her interesting vegetable garden. I placed my luggage on the bed and looked out at the purple lettuces. “What are they?” I asked my grandmother. “I’ve been experimenting,” she replied. Not only were there purple lettuces, there were also blue straw berries and bright pink tomatoes.
Later that evening my grandmother tucked me into bed and asked, “Are you too old for stories?” “Never,” I replied with a smile. Although I had heard this story so many times, I never grew bored of it. It was such a lively story and when ever my grandmother told me it, it always felt as if I were in the story.the story was about two sisters named Agnes and Marthlen who were fleuries. They had small, iridescent wings. Although they were immortal, they were always slowly ageing. The sisters were very different from each other. Agnes was kind and gentle, while Marthlen was such a trouble maker. Marthlen had an obsession with staying young forever and had discovered an enchantment that would steal the youth of others. Agnes also had discovered this enchantment and knew that her sister would have found it too. Agnes tried to reason with Marthlen, but failed. This disagreement led to the parting of their ways. My imagination was interrupted by my grandmother’s words.” Well that’s enough for tonight. Goodnight dear.” She turned off the lights and closed the door.
My eyes sprung open as I heard some one calling my name from outside of the window. Was I still dreaming? I slid out of bed and followed the mesmerizing voice. In a trance – like state, I walked towards the voice into the forest. I couldn’t see well in the dark but I could hear the trees whistling in the wind. Suddenly my feet stopped. I was standing in front of a very large tree with a little blue door built into its trunk. I continued to follow the voice through the door and into a room. In the room I saw a beautiful woman with glowing skin and golden hair sitting at a table. On the table was a glass container, in which there was a beautiful red rose. “I have been expecting you Rosie,” the voice chimed. The voice belonged to this beautiful woman.
I was strangely drawn to the rose. “Isn’t the rose just lovely? You can have it if you like, it would look nice against your complexion.” Entranced, I reached for the rose, “NO!” came a roar from behind me. I turned to see my grandmother in the door way, “Agnes, we could have shared this one’s youth,” the young women said.
My Grandmother rushed to the container and the rose and knocked it over. I watched as they both shattered into a million pieces. A shriek of terror filled the room. I turned to see the woman, who turned out to be Marthlen, begin to wrinkle and wither before our very eyes. In silence we gazed at the old woman before us. “Come Rosie,” my grandmother said, with a twinkle in her eye. “Let’s take my elderly sister home for a bowl of purple lettuce soup. It does wonders for the complexion.” We walked back through the forest to my grandmother’s house.
Do you have any ideas? Is there anything that I should change?