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~Prologue~
The bright light of the day began to fade away and time became quick. It seemed as though we had been running for days, and our feet were soon to giving in to the aching pain. We were sore, wet, cold, and tired. The frigid raindrops that hit our bare heads seemed to come faster and faster, and began to hit down harder and harder. I'm not sure if it was because of the sudden rush we were all clearly feeling, or if it was all an illusion of the mind. I wasn't sure what was real and what was fake. The line between reality and fantasy blurred during that stimulating and heart-pounding moment. All I knew was that I had to keep running. I couldn't give up. They were all looking up to me. I was the one they were depending on this time. Not King, not Valentina, but me. The one time they turn to me, I will prove that I am not weak. I am strong. So I will move forward for them. Their love, their hope, their faith; it's what is keeping me going. All of our destinies are in my unsure, but capable hands. I will prove to all of them; I am strong. I am brave. I won't give up, no matter how scared I am inside...
This underlined area really seemed repetitive. I'd take some of these lines out. Also, I think this should be a Preface, it's a little two short to be a prologue. You have me hooked, and your grammar is good as far as I can tell. On to the first chapter!
Chapter One: The beginning
King~
It all started one morning. My sister and I were playing out by the lake behind our large, and ravishing mansion. I remember pushing Akina on the wooden swing father made for us. I remember that was the last time I ever saw Akina smile like that. I wish I could freeze time and live in that joyous moment forever. A time when we were innocent children that were not aware of all the danger and evil in the world. Not aware of anything except the single and rare moments we'd share with our beloved family.
But lets go back a little before that shall we...
Akina, my younger fraternal twin sister, and I were born the children of regal diplomats. You do not choose who you are, or where you come from. It simply happens as a miracle of God. A moment of purity, a moment, a moment of truth. When nothing but goodness fills the air. For a single moment in time, everything is perfect. Although we were born in such high class, we felt as though we were abandoned. We loved our father and mother very much. They gave us everything we ever wanted, everything we ever needed. Our special family was all we ever needed in life, until our grandmother died. After grandmother died, our father and mother had to work even harder to maintain our status. And that ended the close bond we shared. The bond we carefully nurtured as a family.
I don't like these few sentences.
They seem a bit choppy and mess up the flow this paragraph has. Try: Family was what we valued most in our life, and when grandmother died, our parents had to work harder to maintain our status. (Try to explain briefly why the death of the grandmother altered their status) The struggles that we had to endure, ended the close bond that our family carefully nurtured.
We rarely ever saw mother or father after that. Father grew lines on his face and began to grey, while mother became consumed with her looks. The image of a happy family simply faded away. (I'd like to see a little bit more colorful words and descriptions here. I want to be able to picture the father because everyone has lines on there face and anybody can grey. How is the stress altering his face, experiment with words. And how is the mother becoming consumed by her looks?)
Akina and I were left alone in the world with only each other to watch out for one another.
grey should be spelled: gray
I remember we'd always be left alone at the mansion. We'd only be watched by the old Mr. Redwin, and by the maids that were too consumed with their job to notice us. We'd try to do the things we used to do with our parents, but it was not the same knowing other essential pieces were missing. So we played our hearts out and spoke our sadness through music. We soon became the child protégées, The Twin Violinists.
For once, mother and father actually invited us to their strange functions they'd always attend. But it was not for the joy of having their children by their sides, but simply to impress others. They'd command us to play, and to practice night and day to perfect our work. They ordered us to play even when our little arms were weak and our hearts let out. I remember that it got out of hand one day. Our instructor had smacked Akina right across the face for messing up in the performance for the King and Queen. I remember her tears that ran down her red face and the smirk on the instructors face. That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. I went out onstage and slammed the violin on the floor and threw it onto the table by the stage. I gave my final performance and ran back home with my sister.
I stayed in a closet for 3 (use the word three) days, trying to erase the memory of my sister’s face after she'd been beaten. Mother and Father were yelling at me through the crack of the door, telling me that I blew it for them. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore except for Akina and myself. They eventually left for a meeting in China. I then escaped the closet and went to check on Akina. She was changed since that moment. She never smiled, never laughed, and never talked to anyone.
The next morning, Akina and I were sitting by the river. Mr. Redwin came running down the gravel path. The news he'd told us was the most unexpected thing. Our parents' ship to China had sunk. We were now orphans.
The bright light of the day began to fade away and time became quick.
It seemed as though we had been running for days, and our feet were soon to giving in to the aching pain. We were sore, wet, cold, and tired.
Their love, their hope, their faith; it's what is keeping me going. All of our destinies are in my unsure, but capable hands.
I wish I could freeze time and live in that joyous moment forever. A time when we were innocent children that were not aware of all the danger and evil in the world. Not aware of anything except the single and rare moments we'd share with our beloved family.
For a single moment in time, everything is perfect.
But lets go back a little before that shall we...
Hmm. Let's see. I can picture that day; that time.
~Prologue~
But lets go back a little before that shall we...
Hmm. Let's see. I can picture that day; that time
Evil things happen in the world for no reason, except for the reason of simply being.
A sudden rush of my blood, a sudden urge to commit violence.
Then after that, I only remember broken crystal shards that laid all over my father.
All I know is that the past is the past. I can only carry on. Carry on, Carry on.
I haven't thought about it in such a long while. The last time it occurred to me what happened to my parents was that day.
The bright light of the day began to fade away and time appeared to become quick.
It seemed as though we had been running for days and our feet were soon to giving in to the aching pain that consumed us. The frigid raindrops that hit our bare heads seemed to quicken its pace.
They felt like crashing waves against a helpless diver.
I’m not sure if it was because of the sudden rush we were all clearly feeling, or if it was simply an illusion of the mind.
The line between reality and fantasy blurred during that heart-pounding moment.
For suspending our valiant mission meant failure, and failure here counter parted death.
They were all looking up to me and were depending on my faithful decision since our true leader had been captured.
The one time they look to me as their guidance I will prove that I am no longer weak.
All I can remember of my days in early childhood were the icy raindrops that fell rapidly on my small head. The drops raced down my trembling body and tingled with and eerie feeling. I was trying to hold back my compelling tears, but I could no longer enslave them within me. It was that very day when I realized no one can see you crying when you are crying in the rain. .
My beloved parents most people know as the musical protégées Elaine and Cari, were the most wonderful people I knew.
They taught me everything I knew. Walking, running, and speaking were essential skills I learned from my parents. However the most valuable skill they had given me was the gift to create music.
We would occasionally take pleasurable strolls through the park and found much pleasure in playing with our golden retriever Toby.
How glorious it was to feel the cool summer breeze dance gently through my hair, allowing it to float along with wind. Among the many joyous Sunday memories, one specific memory I cherish most. Every Sunday, Mama and Papa would play their beautiful music for us to hear. I am still able to recall even the finest detail of the gentle melodies. The warming sounds from our treasured piano combined with the sweet melody of the flute would fill our little house every Sunday. Mama and Papa noticed that my sister and I were magnetically attracted to the unique sounds the instruments would make. Our great fascination made us eager to learn.
Papa told me each instrument had its own special qualities and distinctive sound. The drums were sturdy like the heavy oak tree in our front yard. The flute was swift, sweet and accurate like the keen wind. The piano was warm and grand, just like the sun. However the magnificent piano was not only capable of joyous sounds. It could also be gloomy and depressing like the brutal rain that poured down on windy November nights.
Music is the sad truth that whispers suddenly in your ear when you're most vulnerable
The next morning, Kaydence and I ran down stairs to our finely decorated Christmas tree. We tore open our brightly wrapped presents hoping to find what we asked for. I uncovered the white dog plush that I asked Santa for. I hugged it and petted its little head. Then in the corner of my eye I spotted a small, silver box with royal blue ribbon. I rushed to open it while Kaydence was playing with her new lion doll. I opened it quickly to discover a silver necklace with a jade heart locket attached to it. I opened the tiny yellow scroll that sat beside it.
My parents loved me. That was all I needed to know.
I tried to hold back the childish tears, but they ran down my face like the rain ran down on my head.
My life, my parents, and me; it was all gone.
It seems as though the raindrops just froze time for a moment and brought me back to the days of happiness.
The pouring raindrops seemed purify me and take away the pain. They slowly and softly healed my broken heart.
My sister and I were playing out by the lake behind our large, and ravishing mansion.
A time when we were innocent children that were not aware of all the danger and evil in the world; not aware of anything except the single and rare moments we'd share with our beloved family.
But your information on my love of my family is fairly sparse, but I shall try to introduce it to you anyways.
Akina, my younger fraternal twin sister, and I were born the children of regal diplomats. You do not choose who you are, or where you come from. Birth simply is bestowed upon us as a miracle of God. It’s a moment of purity, a moment of sheer truth. It is a time when nothing but honesty fills the air. For a single moment in time everything is perfect. You see a child is the gift of human love.
I remember her tears that ran down her red face and the smirk on the instructors face.
Mother and Father were yelling at me through the crack of the door. ; telling me that I blew it for them.
The broken glass that lay on the marble floor. The shining broken shards of crystal that laid before me, and that made my bare hands bleed.
Permanent, bold, and written.
Hmm. Let's see.
I can picture that day; that time.
I was actually, ugly.
How could I have been such a fool for believing such a lie.
So I hid in the attic, waiting for her to call me back up.
It was a small act of violence that left me alone in the world.
The last time it occurred to me what happened to my parents was that day.
Papa Ray stroked my light blue hair and told me he would take me.
The tiniest of things would equal chores on top of chores.
I would have to wait and stay with Grandma Jane; the rash woman who'd been changed by one simple act of fate.
How could she think that I didn't love papa too.
How could she think that she was the only one who missed his warm-heart and childish soul.
It wasn't, the man simply frowned and walked away.
Grandma Jane coughed in her gross tone.
The wicked woman had taken the single thing that kept me standing; hope.
If you play this angelic flute, the lives of all the characters will come alive and you'll be taken into a world of dreams. But it will only happen when you feel isolated. When you feel alone. When you feel forgotten.'
I was, simply forgotten.
I slowly and carefully took out the smooth white case from my ragged bag, and opened the elegant case.
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