Cecelia Everhart: A Narrative Fiction
Cecelia Everhart was a raven haired beauty who was quite dull and vain. Seated next to her was her husband, Charles, a rather tiny fellow. Weak and unintimidating, he gave off the feeling of a rather poor man; however he was rather malapert and therefore quite rude. Their daughter was an exact replica of her mother, sitting on the edge of her chair and drinking tea with her pinky extended. The entire family looked up as the Osborns entered and Cecelia stood up with a supercilious smile plastered on her face. “Welcome to our humble home,” she declared, spreading her arms out wide to showcase the wealth of the room. “Thank you for inviting us to tea,” his mother replied with the same magniloquent tone. They all were seated. The same maid that
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“How was yours?” “Fine.” Eli took a long slurp from his teacup to annoy his mother. She glared at him and he smirked back before continuing to speak. “So... what are your interests?” “I like to go dancing and take walks in the garden.” Her voice was light and airy like a spring breeze. “Taking walks sounds like a wonderful thing to do,” his mother butted in. “Why don’t you to go walk around the garden while the adults talk?” Eli gave his mother an incredulous look. First of all he was the one who had wanted to walk this morning, not her. Second of all they were all adults at this table. She discreetly stamped on his foot, digging the heel in until he leapt up with a short gasp of pain. Victoria gracefully glided to stand next to him and slipped her arm through his. He escorted her to the garden with great annoyance (an emotion he seemed to feel most around his impossible family) and they walked in silence for a short while before someone spoke.
“So I suppose you’re about as sick of your parents as I am of mine?” Victoria asked.
Eli glanced at her appraisingly. Perhaps he had found a fellow in the fight against the rich. He gave a short nod.
“Sometimes I wish I was born poor,” she
“How was yours?” “Fine.” Eli took a long slurp from his teacup to annoy his mother. She glared at him and he smirked back before continuing to speak. “So... what are your interests?” “I like to go dancing and take walks in the garden.” Her voice was light and airy like a spring breeze. “Taking walks sounds like a wonderful thing to do,” his mother butted in. “Why don’t you to go walk around the garden while the adults talk?” Eli gave his mother an incredulous look. First of all he was the one who had wanted to walk this morning, not her. Second of all they were all adults at this table. She discreetly stamped on his foot, digging the heel in until he leapt up with a short gasp of pain. Victoria gracefully glided to stand next to him and slipped her arm through his. He escorted her to the garden with great annoyance (an emotion he seemed to feel most around his impossible family) and they walked in silence for a short while before someone spoke.
“So I suppose you’re about as sick of your parents as I am of mine?” Victoria asked.
Eli glanced at her appraisingly. Perhaps he had found a fellow in the fight against the rich. He gave a short nod.
“Sometimes I wish I was born poor,” she