Cynthia E-Book

Sadie Jayne

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

   Cynthia is teenage girl who is sent away from her home in hopes that she'll become less shy. Just as she starts to settle, she is sent to another place, further away. Together with a young girl, she runs away and heads back to the first place she was placed. A story about friendship, adventure, and the true meaning of a home.

Leseprobe

Sadie Jayne

Cynthia

A story about friendship, adventure, and the true meaning of a home

This book is dedicated to Mrs. Hegberg, my amazing fourth grade teacher who encouraged me to try my best.BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Chapter One - The First 13 Days

            Cynthia was a thin, 18 year old girls with eyes like cotton candy and pretty auburn hair. Her mother was the Duchess of England, so Cynthia always wore dresses and curled her hair. Cynthia was a shy girl. Her mother, Maria, believed that Cynthia should be more friendly and less shy. So she sent Cynthia off to her cousin's house in California. Cynthia's maid, Annie, flew her out to her cousins. Upon arrival, Cynthia and Annie were greeted by the cousins. There were five cousins. Anna was fourteen, Tommy was 11, Lilly was nine, Darla was seven, and Gabby was four. Then there was Aunt Pollita, who was called Polly, and Uncle Bobert, who was called Bobby. After that was the grandparents, who had a 19 year old boy to help them around the house, whose name was James, the grandmother whose name was Arlene, but whom everyone called Arley, and the grandfather whose name was Simon. It was a big family.

      The next morning, Annie left for England. Cynthia stayed in her room the whole day. It was a large room, more like a little apartment. The cook brought her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She cried and cried. She was a small girl in a strange land away from home with no one that she knew. She leaned out the window. The crisp, fresh air blew gently, and the sun cast its sparkle against her back. James was riding Spice, his horse. His black hair shone in the wind. He stopped when he saw Cynthia. He beckoned her to join him, but Cynthia shook her head and closed the window. She felt as though she didn't fit in anywhere. It was like everyone but her knew where they belonged. Cynthia cried herself to sleep. When she awoke, Lily was sitting on her bed. In her perky voice, Lily said, "Good morning Cynthia, I got you a horse. You can name her anything you like." Cynthia hugged Lily. "thank you Lily."  She leaned out the window. The horse was sugar-brown, so she decided to name her Sugar. 

     Cynthia left her room for the first time and went down to the stables. Sugar was a creamy brown chestnut, with a white muzzle. Cynthia decided to ride her. She saddled her up and began to walk her out of the stables. Then she saw James. He invited her to join him and Tommy riding, but Cynthia shook her head and went back to her room. A similar scenario occurred every day. James would invite Cynthia riding, Cynthia would refuse. On the 11th day, Cynthia went riding on her own, only to find that because she hadn't ridden in so long, she couldn't quite remember how. She pulled the reins this way and that, and Sugar bolted. When Sugar finally came to a stop, Cynthia was shaking with fear. Thankfully, James and Tommy came outside and helped her. They trained every day until she could ride again. Aunt Polly said that it was bringing Cynthia out of her shell. Sometimes, Anna and Lily would bring out lunch, and they would all have a picnic. Lunch was often sandwiches and cheesecake and mini pies. Most times, Gabby would find her way to the picnic just as the sweets were being served. Cynthia would write a letter to her mother every week. She was still mad at her mother for sending her away, so when she wrote her letters, she always made them sound as lonesome and sad as she could possibly make them. This week's letter read, "Dear Mother, this place is beyond gloomy. I have no friends here, no one is kind (much less even talks to me) and I hate it all, your daughter, Cynthia Ruiall, The Borjort Mansion."