It's 1964 and Mila has moved from the ukraine to England. She moves into an mansion, in the heart of the Dales, to be percific were the bronte sisters lived. The ghosts of anne, charlotte and Emily haunt the house. But the brother Branwell, is making it hard for her. He tells her on her first night that there will be a murder in the village of a woman named Geogie mills, will she see the culprit? and if she does, will the culprit do to her before she tells the police?


27. amaze

My father and mother stepped out as soon as the car stopped, there was no umbrella or coat mother could use to stop the mass amount of water to fall onto her hair and clothes.

"I ONLY WASHED MY HAIR LAST NIGHT" My mother screamed at the top of her lungs.

I snickered rolling my eyes too, because I knew she hated getting her hair wet. I waited for a few more seconds in the warmth of the car before un-locking the car and stepping out into the freezing cold wetness, which I heard was typical british wheather. I sighed. At least in winter it hasn't got it as hard as Syberia has.

The windows towered above me, glass shining in the wet droplets that slid down it, making little river marks, as such , on the window pane. The bricks which made this stunning, towering building that stood in front of me was not the usual boring red bricks that I was used to ; instead it was pure white. The large oak panneled door was roughly the same size of the windows which were just meters away.

"Come on Mila..." My dads voice rung, all light and happy.

The  oak door creeked open revealing what was in side of this magnificant building, which now I must call it my 'Home'. The stairs were directly behind it, covered in a ruby red blanket that sloped up to the main landing.

I walked a few steps towards my new home, smiling as I did so. My auntie would love me to be happy. Again I paused just before the step to enter, realising that father and mother was inside. The guest wasn't here. I turned and found the man who father was talking to earlier, my face was obviously perplexed. There was an awkward silence before he spoke.

"What's wrong, love." His voice was a strong northern accent, but he was young I was young.

His eyes were blue,  skin pale. So geogous, but I realised that he was too old for me. But seeing as I'm 14, I can flirt as much as I would like.

He was staring at me too, looking at me with awe. His lips turned into a smile. Noticing this, I looked up to some ravens who were flying around the cold air. One landing on the memoerial which was made for my aunt.

"Where is the guest, the one who was talking to your friend?" I questioned, trying to be as polite and sincere as I could.

At this point I turned to him as I spoke, smiling encourageingly.

"Well, he - the man- has gone, he's dissapeared," He replied "Anyway my name is Declan Massey, your cousin, the son of you dead aunt."

I felt my face drain out with warmth. I was shocked, my cousin waited outside for me. Of couse I was gratefull, who wouldn't be?

"And the man- not the one who vanished, thte other one, is my brother-" He said awkwardly.

His brother walked over in an instant and interupted him.

"This must be our cousin, well, well, you do look like our mother. My names Connor- Connor Massey."


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