Your driver,” a boy said with a sort of bow. It was really odd. Would someone actually bow to me? I decided to do what I had always read in books.
I nodded stiffly and sat down in the sleigh. I wasn’t uncomfortable but I was cold. The guy chirruped to the horse and we went down the cobblestone drive. It was a bumpy ride but not bad.
I was shocked to see rows of people waving and cheering. Was Jane used to this? It wasn’t normal! Nobody should be cheered for like this! It was like the circus was coming to town!
I waved slowly.
I supposed you were supposed to wave back. It would be a bit rude not to. I screwed my eyebrows together, trying to get the point of this Christmas parade. Nothing worth noticing was Christmasy about it! If this was the reason of Christmas, it was a sorry one.
I fidgeted in my seat and turned around. I was amazed to see armor clad men marching behind. They each had a bit of green on their armor as if it were a decoration. I turned around and sank back into my seat. I supposed it would be best to just endure this ride.
“Why are you stopping?” I asked, as the whole parade slowed down. The boy gave me a look.
“It’s the Duke’s speech.”
“The Duke’s?” I stopped. This couldn’t be happening. The boy got out and extended his hand.
“The Duke’s family is requested to be near during the speech.”
I couldn’t believe it! Out of all the things that could have gone wrong! Of course Jane’s parents would notice I was not their daughter.
“Are you coming, m’lady?” the boy asked impatiently.
“Uh, yes,” I grabbed his hand and stepped out of the sleigh.
I watched with interest as a powerful man got out of the carriage in front of us. He must be the duke.
So, it’s Tuesday and it’s December. Okay, I’m about to burst with excitement because I’m going to be doing my VERY FIRST photo story! Isn’t that exciting? Here’s the reasons why.
I think they are extremely awesome. It’s two of my favorite things put together; photography and writing!
My dolls have been about to kill me because I have a blog and they haven’t been featured on it. I know, not a reason to kill the blogger, but you might be able to follow their train of thought.
I wanted to do something Christmasy. It’s that simple. I thought I would do something Christmasy that was only at Crazy A.
Those are the reasons, folks! They are very few, but very important reasons. Now, I’m going to tell you my photo story schedule before I tell you it’s title. I’ll be posting my photo story on Tuesdays and Saturdays. It’s a fun, American Girl doll story. And, it’s done by Amie!
Now, without further ado, here is the title.
You all gasped! Yep! It’s called, “A Merrily Medieval Christmas.” You’re all trying to guess why it has Medieval in the title, right? Well, I’m not going to keep you waiting long. Just long enough for a quick rule.
Please don’t criticize this! It’s my VERY FIRST photo story, so I’m not an expert. Plus, my dolls agreed to this very reluctantly, so they’re waiting for the comments. If the comments are bad, well, they might not do another photo story for you!
Morgan and I walked home from the Christmas Eve dance. I walked a bit crossly, as I felt a out of sorts. It had all started with this awful hair cut. I would forever hate that hairdresser!
I felt Morgan sizing me up. I flinched as she reached out and touched my hair, running her fingers through it gently.
“You know it isn’t that bad,” she commented. I wished she had just kept her mouth shut. “It really looks lovely tonight.”
I shrugged as I walked to my door. “Thanks for taking me to the dance.” I gave her a wry grin.
“No, thank you,” Morgan’s eyes danced as she gave a final wave. I turned and unlocked the front door.
Walking into the house, I was engulfed in darkness. Walking through the darkness, more by feeling than anything else, I suddenly spotted a light. Walking towards it, I saw it was the lamp on the table. Under the lamp was a note in Mom’s handwriting. It said, I’ve gone to bed.–Mom.
I grabbed the paper and crinkled it in my hand. It felt good to relieve my feelings that way. Walking towards my room, I passed through the living room. I stopped to stare at the glittering Christmas tree. The angel on top seemed to move and shine as the lights hit it.
Running to my room, I flung myself on my bed. “What is Christmas anyway?” I asked angrily. “If only I could go back and time to find out. Maybe the seventeenth century.”
I sat in silence for what seemed like forever. I started to my feet as I heard a voice. “Psst?”
I looked at the mirror in horror. A face shone out of it. “What did you wish?” the face asked. The face belonged to a girl about my age.
“I wished I could go back in time,” I said, trying to see if this was a trick. Faces don’t just appear in your mirror.
“To which century?” The girl asked, her eyes twinkling.
“The Seventeenth?” I said.
The girl’s peal of laughter echoed through the room. “I’m Jane and I think we could pass as the other, minus the hair of course!”
I stared at her in dumb disbelief. This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t be happening. I mean, it was physically impossible. “Really?” I asked doubtfully.
“Of course! I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?”
“It’s Anna. I’m Anna,” I corrected quickly.
“Anna, what a regal name! I happen to live in the seventeenth century. I would like to help you grant your wish. Would you like to trade with me?”
“Trade what?” I wasn’t sure what this girl was asking.
Jane’s eyes crinkled as she laughed. Then, her face became totally serious. “Trade lifes. I will be you and you will be me.”
“For how long?” I wasn’t sure I would like this.
“Only until Christmas Eve,” Jane assured.
“All right,” I shrugged. “Let’s do it.”
Jane grinned before she nimbly walked through the mirror. She laughed as she shook my hand. “God be with you.”
“You too,” I said oddly. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the mirror.