Miley Cyrus

What do you think of this beginning? Easy 10 points?

Chapter 1

I swing my legs over the side of my cot, and watch as my mother cradles my younger sister, Lace, in her arms, as if protecting her from any harm. I lace up my leather boots noiselessly, and my eyes find my father’s cot, empty, as it has been for the last six months.
I throw another log onto the fire, to make sure that my mother and Lace are warm for the while that I am gone and grab a couple of coins from the surface of our small wooden table that my father had carved himself.
Plating a kiss on Lace’s forehead I turn to leave, but a worried voice escapes from behind me.
“Blythe?” I stop in my tracks and turn to face my sister, who has somehow managed to crawl her way out of my mother’s grasp without awakening her. Lace’s white nightgown falls over her fragile figure, and her light brown hair falls in loose tangles to the small of her back.
“Where are you going?” she asks, rubbing her blue eyes, and gazing at my fully dressed body.
“Just going to buy some food from the market,” I lie, showing her the coins in my palm. “Go back to sleep.”
“But you went to the market yesterday,” Lace states suspiciously, standing up.
“I forgot to get some things. It’s really early, just go back to sleep.” I watch as she hesitates, but she slides back into my mother’s arms and purses her lips.
“If you’re not back when I wake, I’m going out to find you.” I nod at her, and turn before she changes her mind. Grabbing my black bag I leave our home without another comment.
Walking the empty roads of our village seemed to be somewhat of a routine for me. I would wake up early in the morning, usually Lace didn’t awake, and I would escape into the woods, where I am able to think to myself, without any interruptions.
I pass several huts and houses, no visible light inside, except for the glowing of each fireplace, which keeps us warm, since our village is no where rich enough to afford any sort of electrical heating.
Pausing at the entrance of the forest, I run my hand along one of the trees, feeling its rough texture and taking it all in. Green foliage surrounds me, and I close my eyes for a brief moment pondering if this was the place I wanted to go at this exact moment.
Without giving my mind the time to make a decision, I take a step into the forest, and hoist my black bag onto my shoulder. I quickly glance behind me, making sure no one is able to see me. When I am fully aware that no one is acknowledged of my being here, I enter the forest.
Running now, I pass several trees whose branches are bent in impossible angles and bushes of sweet golden berries. Halting to a stop, I stare at the trunk of my father’s favourite tree. The willow. I’ve always wondered to myself why my father loved this tree so much. With its giant trunk and bent figure, it only seemed to make me sad.
I trudge towards the tree and grab on the lowest branch, pulling myself up effortlessly. I place my left foot on her next branch and so on, until I am sitting on my branch.
Placing my black bag on my lap, I pull out the contents and place them in front of me. Parchment paper, a cartilage of blue and red paint, and small pieces of charcoal I had stolen from the market. Placing a clean sheet of paper in front of me, I cross my legs and get ready to draw. I pick up a piece of charcoal, and run it along the sheet of paper, making a line the color of ebony. I continue making line after line, not exactly trying to draw something specific, just trying to empty my mind.
I wipe my hands on my pants, leaving smears of charcoal, but I hardly notice.

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