Hiye

Seasons

Autumn



PROLOGUE

The leaves rustle as the wind blows. Winter is far away yet the cold has arrives. I glance at the dead poinsettias I had planted in summer as I pass by, quickly. I pull my violet hood off, knowing Mother won't like this decision. The wind tugs on my auburn hair but I fight with a weak breath, and head on the shady trail.

It took much to convince Mother and Father to let me out on this walk; they don't know how much I need to be alone. But I'm not alone. I'm with nature. I suddenly stop at an old boulder, and sit down. I pull out my yellow diary and begin writing, writing and writing.

But I don't write about myself, nor my life. I just call it a diary so people won't dare open it. Instead, I write stories, bringing me back into my dream of being an author.

A dream no one will understand.

ONE

"Quince!"

"Here!"

"So everyone is here," Ms. Lewis says. "Awesome! Let's begin." I begin to doodle a butterfly on my notebook as Ms. Lewis speaks. "Quince, put that away please. This is the third time this week." I look up quickly to my teacher's stern face and slide my notebook inside my desk without another word. In the table next me, I hear giggles. "Now," Ms. Lewis continues. "We are beginning our story-making today, as the 5th grade usually does every year." I'm surprised I don't jump out of my chair and cheer; this is the best thing of this horrible year!

"You will write a short story, 5-10 chapters" Only that much? My novels are 30 chapters long, usually. "You will be writing a fiction story with thought, detail and with a theme we discussed." Themes? Ugh. I despise limits