Rose and the Beast

Part 1: chapters 1-3

Rose and the Beast
By: Hannah Blanchard

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Chapter 1 – Two Birds of a Feather

The weather was rainy. Very rainy. The rain beat upon the window of Charles' study who was deep in his work as usual. He was currently, bent over, eye pressed to the lens of a microscope studying a feather of a blue jay. The feather broke into tiny particles it seemed when looking at it microscopically. It appeared as though the particles were banging into each other. BANG! Thunder. Then lighting lit up the whole room through the window whose billowy curtains were partially open and creased so that they appeared to have never been closed. The room was dark except for the light that beamed from his desk lamp that illuminated where he was working. He looked up to jot something down on a piece of paper.

Not enough colors.

In his office were skinny shelves lining the walls reaching from midway of the wall to the ceiling. On the shelves were several clear glass jars, most of them filled with feathers of different species of birds. He also had book shelves filled with books about leopards, tigers, lions, ostriches, peacocks, and nearly any other bird or feline one could think of. Amongst these were other books about mysterious beasts from folklore and myths. One of these books were open on his desk, the page turned to chapter entitled, "Trossager: the wild island beast."

He put his eye back to the lens and continued to search the feather for...something.

BANG! Lighting struck again, this time, closer. At the same time the door to his study creaked open a bit as the room illuminated. Charles turned to look but saw nothing.

The sound of something moving across the carpet came from behind him. It sounded like a small something...was sliding...or scooting. Definitely scooting. A black figure scuttled behind the arm chair near the window. Charles turned around to see what the noise was but again, saw nothing. He slowly turned back around to his work. He turned the dial on his microscope.

CRASH! Lightning struck again, this time so close, the thunder was simultaneous with the lightning as it illuminated a small black figure standing right behind Charles. Charles looked up from his microscope. And slowly turned around.

"Boo!" said the small figure who threw off the blanket that had kept her hidden. It was his daughter, Rose. She was no more than 7 years old, but was a very clever little girl. And this was one of her favorite games to play. Monster.

"Why, goodness!" said Charles. "You nearly scared me out of my wits!" He always pretended to be scared, even though, the minute he would hear his door creak slowly, he always knew it was Rose.

"Yes," she said matter very of fact. "You are quite easy to scare! Hehe." She giggled to herself.

"Oh really?" asked her father as he scooped her up into his thin but strong arms. "Come here you!" Rose giggled and giggled as her father tickled her. She lay in her father's arms upside when she noticed the book open on his desk.

She gasped. "The monster book! The monster book! My favorite!" She shouted as she flailed her arms and legs around trying to become free from her father's grasp to reach the book. Charles tried as hard as could not to drop her on the floor.

"Well-, just-, wait-," said Charles laughing and trying to keep his daughter from crashing on her face. At this point she had maneuvered herself so that her father was only holding her by the ankles upside down. Her curly red hair hung wild and free.