‘What have I done to deserve this? I was now alone in this world. Rain beaded down on the carriage door while the tapping of the horses hooves echoed through my ears. We had been traveling across deserted landscape for many days; the whole time I was trying to clear my mind. Even though my parents had left me on this world, I know they have gone to a paradise far better than this land. But am I in the wrong to want them back, so I’m not alone, is this greed?
Thoughts scattered my mind for hours on end, until it was too unbearable. The tears on my face had all dried up and I found it hard to pull any expression. I felt like a blank canvas and the artist had lost all inspiration. Suddenly the carriage came to a halt and I slowly pushed open the door to reveal a long path with weeds growing up through it. It was situated between a dark wood full of fern tress that seemed to have no life. There was a sign at the start of the path; it read: ‘Welcome to Fern Hall.’ Where was I?’
Joanna had written this in her diary on arriving at her widowed Aunts house. Her parents had died a few weeks ago of tuberculosis; making Joanna an orphan. She was a young girl with golden blonde locks that shimmered in the light and with eyes like art work. Her schooling had been excellent making her extremely intelligent; she was what every woman would want to be. Also she was very mature for her age, always wearing the latest fashions.
It was getting late and darkness fell as it late October, a gloomy atmosphere hovered around Fern Hall so ‘little Joanna’ - as what her mother called her - rushed up the overgrown path up to the deserted old house. She stood at the bottom of the steps going up to the wooden door; the building towering over her as if she was a ant. Joanna scattered up the steps and reached for the knocker, it was in the shape of a horses hoof and ‘Fern Hall’ was just about readable through the layers of rust that gathered on it. Still reaching out, the door...