are absolutely forbidden. They stuck together like glue and paper, never to part and always to honor each others differences. Neither had any other friends, really. The villagers would always say that if something were to happen to one of them, the other would go crazy, totally alone in the world and isolated from all the other, normal, yet beastly and mischievous little things, but they were children and playmates among themselves.
Mary and Peter were done with their cookies and milk now, the rest of the house seemed wide open for exploration as they wandered out of the kitchen. Peter had only lived there for a few months after his parents died in a train accident in March. The children peered around corners and slowly opened dusty doors and cabinets, not knowing what treasures they might find that day.
After a long discussion of what would be the best thing to do in the mansion, both children decided a game of hide and seek might be a good way to see more of the massive house. Ill be it first and then you, Mary. Declared Peter plopping himself down on an ancient chase lounge. This will be base, and I will count to 50 since there are so many places to hide. Mary scurried away as his voice echoed through the bare halls and high ceilings. Pretty soon she had wandered far enough were she couldnt hear him anymore. Mary shivered, but not from cold. She was on the upper floor, a dark and foreboding place, full of dust and cobwebs. The hard wooden floors creaked with almost every step she made, and every door was closed, as if daring her to open one and see what was waiting for her. She stood stock still, and her head seemed to rotate like an owl, her eyes bulging wide open in awe. She looked at her surroundings, it was dark, but she tried as she might to make something of the dusty hall. There were two chairs, one a Victorian style with faded and ripped purple satin cushions, and the legs curled down into little scroll like feet. The other was more like an arm chair, it was dark, moss green with over stuffed arms and scratched wooden legs. The back had wings so large that one could sit in it and be hidden from view. Actually, they almost curved around and met each other at the middle. Mary was fascinated by this chair, and immediately plopped into it, sending dust and dirt flying into the obis. So much was polluting the air that it scratched her throat and made her sneeze, she coughed and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the burning sand to her eyes. But, suddenly, it stopped, all was quiet...quiet. Very quiet, she was sitting on something very soft and

springy...velvet? No, and it wasnt the chair either. Her eyes stayed shut, and she was almost afraid to open them. She sat contemplating what she could possibly be sitting on. It couldnt have been the floor, no, the floor was hard dark wood, and this soft springy something wasnt covered with dust. Could she still be in the house if it wasnt buried with dust and dirt and grime? Of course not, she told herself. Finally, struck with fear at the thought of herself being alone outside the house, she opened her eyes. She almost screamed as she looked around, but she quickly caught the lady-like composer that her mother had told her always to keep. She was sitting, in fact, on moss, it was very springy and soft, and at the moment covered with dew, since it was early morning in mid-spring. All around her were lovely trees of all kinds, and green tinted sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above her. The ground was also covered with leaves, she was surrounded by so much green vastness that she almost felt like a leaf or a tree herself. She was dizzy, and had an odd feeling about her...it was sickening though, and she could not stand up. Her legs felt gummy....her growling stomach soon reminded her of the poor lunch she had. Mary looked around even more, What a curious wood, she said to herself, I shall go and explore this place. It looks as though it will be a long time before Ill be home again. Mary sighed after that, I wish Peter were here. He would know what to do. One would think that an 11 year old girl would be very afraid if she was in Marys position. But Mary had always thought it silly to be afraid, she had resolved to stick it out. Besides, this was a very interesting place to be, and, as always, Mary was extremely curious. She was a curious little girl, a monkey that was never to be caught. Mary stood up, and almost fell on her face, but quickly balanced herself. She looked up through all the darkness and foliage ahead of her.