I was sat at the breakfast bar, like I always do waiting for the cook to serve up breakfast. My Step-Mum was (and still is) the worst cook in the world. and the worst cleaner, gardener and organiser. That's why my Dad got her people to do those jobs for her.It was just me and the cook in there, my Step-Brothers Tom and Jack were in the family dining room. Tom was 10 and Jack was 8. They were taught by the Nanny (did I not mention that we also had a Nanny?) to sit at the table in the family dining room.
We have two dining rooms, one for the family, the six-seated dining room, and the formal/party dining room - which contained a12-seated dining table, TV with surround-sound, and a main desk for when my Dad had meetings.
So while the cook was making up the boys breakfast (eggs and soldiers) I was pouring milk into my weetabix, the butler came in with the mail. Our mail usually consisted of The Gaurdian, mail for Dad, mail to Cathy (my Step-Mum, by the way is called Cathy) from friends who were 'having a great time' on holiday. That and ,obviously, bills. But today, the butler (John) came up to me too.
"Misstress Brooklyn, you have mail from Oxford University."
"Oh yeah!? Since when did I get mail from them?"
"Should I read it out for you Misstress Brooklyn?"
"No thanks John, I can read.". John hated it when I used 'slang' or called him by his first name. I scanned the envelop like it was something alien. I never recieved mail, unless it was from my Mum in America. I began to peel away the seel when my Dad and Cathy walked in.
"Have you opened it yet?", asked Dad. "Give her a chance! I saw the butler bring it in whilst doing yoga. I knew you would get it soon.". I couldn't stand listening to either of them any more, otherwise I wouldn't be able to opn it out of boredom. I slipped the seel open with ease, to find a formal letter along with a pack behind it. It read:
Dear Brooklyn Hall,
It is our job to inform you, that you have been accepted into Oxford University. Information on clubs, residence and more is given in the package behind this letter. The first term starts on the 2nd of September, any problems or worries call us or go to our website. Thankyou for choosing Oxford University as your first choice.
At first I thought it was some sort of mistake, then a joke. Then I read it for the fifth time and realised that it was neither. Dad and Cathy were waiting for some sort of reaction, but nothing could of prepared them for what happened next. I dropped my cereal on the floor, so that the shards went everywhere. Cathy screamed and jumped onto the island, and Dad did some form of scream/man yell and jumped back. What haappend next was a bit of a blur. I remember a lot of crying and shouting, and then being told I couldn't go to the end of summer ball and to go to my room immediatly. It felt like the last day of my life. No friends. No family. Nothing.