Group Story, 12/23/09

Written by the combined forces of Paul Adolphsen, Brenda Buchanan and Laura Grafham

L: Belinda was agitated beyond reason. The meeting with her grandfather had not gone as planned, and her birthday dress--the one with the white flounce--had been dirtied by her dog Jackie. Yes, a damper had been put upon the day.
B: What a quandary to find oneself in. The matter at hand was of utmost importance to her, but as to how to approach her grandfather in a way that would garnish positive results, she had no idea. Every time an opportune moment came she took it, but always ended up being brushed away with a slighting wave of the hand.
P: If only her dear mother were still alive--her mother whose hands were always soft. Belinda walked from her grandfather's room and haughtily slumped on the setee in her family's drawing room. Biting her lip and tapping her toe she thought about what to do next...
L: She hated when other people pouted, yet it was the only thing she could think to do next. So pout she did. Looking out the window at the landscape--the sweeping cityscape of Boston would soon give way to the pastoral fences and fjords of Maine. She didn't know why the Penberly School for Girls had chosen to expel her; the mystery remained unsolved. Nevertheless, she was being sent away against her will. There was nothing she could do about it now.
B: She was afraid of grandfather. Not in the sort of way that one is afraid of the dark or of the sea, but she was afraid of his disapproval. Belinda craved her grandfather's approval; she always tried to be an object of pride to him and the thought of his disapproval was enough to keep her in her chair. She pouted because it was unfair, unfair that she was expelled. She was tense because she was frozen with anticipation, awaiting her grandfather's sentence to come down with distressing finality.
.................

P: "Fire!" The frantic screams of Belinda's grandfather jolted her from her deep sleep. She sat up in bed, startled. Jackie, who usually slept with her, was nowhere to be seen. It was a feeling of absolute terror that she became aware of before she smelled the smoke and felt the oppressive heat rising from downstairs. Coughing, she leapt from her bed and stumbled into the smoke-filled hallway. She peered down the stairs and saw the hunched and shadowy silhouette of her grandfather making its way up the stairs.