What do you think of my book?
May 10th, 2012Question by : What do you think of my book?
it’s for children from ages 9-12.
Chapter one.
The door behind the curtain remained locked since Tim was a young kid. It had a round, iron handle dangling from its wooden structure and the letter D carved with a knife below the eyehole.
Slowly, Tim strolled towards the door. He explored every single drawer, wardrobe, and box in their house, except for this door. Secretly, each night his father, Denver, would rush behind it and Tim would hear the clack of the key in the lock. Today he decided that the time came for him to uncover what lies beyond the door; he must know where his father goes each night.
“Where do you think yourself going young man?” A tall slender woman marched between Tim and the door, her high heels clicking rhythmatically over the wooden floor. Her sharp, pale face seemed to be carved out of wood. She ran a finger under her crooked nose, which looked like a v turned upside down, and sniffed at it.
Tim’s gaze widened. He thought that Mirkanda was under her quilt, dreaming. He turned his head to the clock hanging at the wall to his left. It was 3 am. Why was she awake?
Tim hated Mirkanda. After the death of his mother three weeks ago, his father brought her. She remained silent all day long, her wide, green eyes watchful over the door behind the curtain.
“I want to see father.” Tim said. “Let me in”
“He’s busy dear,” mirkanda approached Tim and placed a cold hand over his hair. Tim shook. “You should go sleep now.”
“But I won’t sleep, I want to see dad. I have some papers that I want him to sign for me.”
“I told you he’s busy dear you must go now.” She stood at the middle of the door, her hands crossed and her gaze fixated over Tim.
“She won’t let you in” Tim told himself. “Try more.”
“Fine just get out of the way mirkanda.” Tim yelled at her. “You’re being stupid. He’s my father and I can see him anytime I want, just hand me the key and let me in.”
“Only your father can pass through this door,” mirkanda said, her tone low and her pace slow. “Mr. Denver asked me not to allow anyone through this door, and I’m fulfilling his wish. Go to your bed”
“It’s an order get out of the way.” Tim pushed mirkanda from her waist. She remained motionless. He kept on shoving at her body, but it got heavier with every try. She seemed that her feet were implanted in the ground.
Mirkanda slapped Tim on the face. Her eyes swollen with anger and her body as stiff as iron. “No one will pass.” she hollered at Tim.
Tim lied on his back. Suddenly, he pushed himself up and ran at mirkanda, but before he reached her, he sniffed at the air.
The waft of fumes slipped from somewhere above him. He sniffed again, and then he felt heat emerging from his head. Placing his hand slowly at his hair, he dragged it back swiftly. He was signed. Flames were eating at his hair.
Tom bounded all over the place. He screamed and kicked at the cushions on the sofa. “My hair,” he billowed to the ceiling. “Do something mirkanda. I will die. Bring water.”
Mirkanda stood, propped against the wall, and watching Tim as he shrieked louder across the living room. She smiled to herself, flicked her thumb against her forefinger, and winked at Tim’s head.
The fire went out. Tim dashed at her. “What did you do to my hair?”
“I warned you boy.” She said, as she placed the cushions back over the sofa. “Next time ,I promise, the harm will be greater.”
Best answer:
Answer by ?§?Ep?ª?i? [Sh*t Happens]?
That’s really quite good..
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