The Stairs to Avalon

Aluna has just had to leave her life in London, her friends, her school and the city she loved to move to the sleepy town of Glastonbury. Lonely and bored Aluna discovers the town is more than just an alternative town full of myth but the link between our world and another realm. But what will she discover in the mystical realm of Avalon?

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2. Packing

The rain tapped violently against the windows, the dull grey light filtering through the dust into my bedroom.I looked round my empty room sadly, the old wooden floors creaking under the weight of the pile of old suitcases and boxes carrying my belongings. All that was left in the room now was the old metal bed frame and the grand old oak wardrobe, its doors swinging open to reveal the emptiness inside. 

My room was large and light-filled. I had always loved it here. To me it was like a sanctuary in a busy household. I had lived in this old town house my whole life, and now after 14 years here my parents just expected to me to pack my bags away and move on. I slumped down against the wall and looked around, trying to drink in every last detail, from the large sash window to the fine ceiling rose. i tried to remember what her mother told her about our new home. It was in the town of Glastonbury.

I knew little about the town except for the famous music festival. My father told me it  was supposedly home to some magical hill or something. I hadn't really listened. All I could think about was leaving my whole life behind. I belonged here, I was born here, my friends were here.  My life was in London. And now I was being forced to move to some sleepy West Country town. This was the lowest I'd ever felt. My life had been pretty easy before this. I lived in a big house, went to a good school,I was quite privileged when I thought about it. My family had staff, of course she was privileged. 

Aluna took one last look round before making her way downstairs. My mother and father were there, and our dog Benji. My mother smiled encouragingly, her red lipstick complementing her neck scarf. Her camel coat was wrapped tightly around her and she was wearing her driving gloves. My father, whose decision it was to move to the country, looked excited, his smile lit up his entire face, but I only returned this with a scowl of discontent. 

I pulled my jacket round me and headed out into the rain. The car was waiting outside, next the moving vans. I turned to look at our old house, its grand facade matching the rest of the street, its black door gleaming under a layer of polish and it for sale sign standing out in garish colors. As I got into the car I prepared to say goodbye to Kensington for good.

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