My Sister is a Sorceress?!

||Chapter 1..I Followed Her to the Attic at Night and My Sister is a....What?!||

||Chapter 1||

First published 7/12/2017 7:52 PM

//Hello, and welcome to the first chapter of My Sister is a Sorceress?! I tried to do something a little different for this story, and by that I mean it's written as my interpretation of Lilly's perspective. Normally a story like this would have been written from third person limited, but that's not engaging in itself. First person true would have had me running loops trying to mimic the language and topic transitions of a girl that young. So here you have it, all you readers who will skip this and read on thinking "Wait..did the author mean she was sixteen? Hold up that's a really big word. Is this six-year-old a child protege?" Haha, nah. Our goofy little Lilly is too much an attention-defective clutz to sit down and write a tale this long. <3 All being said and done, please enjoy a story ridden with fairies, sorcerers, prophecies, warring states, fallen goddesses, and plot twists in all manners of the word *evil-laughs off the stage*!

//PS: As of now, all full stories in the process of publishing and being published upon this account intertwine. They're all related, some ways obvious, some ways not so much, so give them all a try! I'll try to update as much as I can //but a comment or two would be nice, too. I am here to gain feedback, after all.

I've always wanted to be a fairy.

My name is Lillly Springs. I am six years old, and my favorite flower is a water lilly, like my name. I have a big sister named Amanda, and we live with our Dad, Dad, and our stepmom, Mom. And this is the story of my adventure. The adventure I got to have with the best big sister in the world, even if she's sometimes a grump.

It all began with my sitting sorrowfully in the shady corner of my front porch, plainly studying the slow turning of the ceiling fan that refused to ever blow a steady breeze. It was a perfectly sunny late-Summer morning, but there was nothing time-worthy to do. Most of the kids my my neighborhood were either out in the area having fun, on vacation, or were hollow-shelled zombies that never left their rooms and their video games unless their parents threatened them to do so. On days like this, I just wanted to play with my big sister. We used to play a lot when we were little. Play and talk and do all sort of stuff. But come a year or so ago, all of that just suddenly...stopped. It was like Amanda was a whole different person.

She walked by me like an old outgrown doll. Amanda made a habit of disappearing into some hidden corner of the house and then reappearing again just a few minutes before bedtime. I looked around eagerly as an idea came to me. But I would have to be quiet for it to work--perhaps if I hurried, I could catch my sister in action and find out exactly what it was that she did every day.

Blowing a few stray hairs away from my face, I made my way through the doorway and into the living room. It was a huge, high-ceilinged bright room with a wood-colored ceiling fan that slowly churned, except it blew a much more fluent, enjoyable breeze than the fan on the front porch. The breeze was just right for relaxing on the brown leather couch that sat in front of (but not blocking) a rectangular-shaped window. There was a small, square-shaped wooden table to the side of it, on which a bright, turquoise-and-sand-colored lamp and a few framed photos of family members were neatly placed. There was a television that sat miles and miles away from the couch, way to the opposite side of the room, and a fireplace sat in its own little world, with straw-colored cushioned chairs set in a circle around it, and a stool thrown upside-down and dangling randomly from the chandelier above.

Lilly--me, I mean--took a moment to study the stool, then burst out laughing, lost her balance, and cascaded dramatically upon a nearby couch. Too perfectly. I spun my head around to catch my sister looking at me. Her deep blue eyes spun into an expression I couldn't read. And then she was gone. Without a single word, she spun around, and there was only the sound of her tapping shoes as the walked away. I froze up. She was here. The time was here. Quietly, silent as a swaying flower, I envisioned my sister, her flowing, long, straight, deep brown hair as it swayed from side to side, her location as she took one step, then another. I broke myself free from the trance, tipping my toes and then the rest of my feet silent as a ballerina onto the cold hardwood floor, gliding across the room as swift as a ninja. My pigtails would fuff at my cheeks like pompoms when I skipped. They cheered me on, and I skipped when I was uneasy, but now was not the time for skipping. This was serious spy business. This was a job of agent Lilly alone; her pom-pom crew would have to wait at the door.