ARNOLD’S POV
A little paradise in the woods That’s how Kim, our social worker, described Caster. She was right—there in the mountain very close to the town covered in snow where a waterfall water flows into the townlet.
I noticed we were near the ocean, where the water glistened as the sunlight hit it. I’ve never been to the beach because my father was always working. It is beautiful. Three-story homes everywhere, with White walls,red-tiled roofs, and spacious gardens with beautiful flowers like roses and lilies. It made me miss my mother more; she loved to garden. Our garden at home was the talk of the town back home.
But Mrs. Shoo, my new adoptive mother, is a sweet woman. She greets us at the gate of one of the houses, which I’m assuming is ours, with her hands behind her back. ”I have some friends here with me who want to meet you!” she says. She then pulls her hands behind her back and presents us with a white, fluffy puppy and a little brown kitten.
My sister loves dogs. Despite her chilly attitude, I caught a brief moment of her smiling. as she picked up the puppy. I named my cat Mocha; she is a playful little butter ball.
Anyway, back to my adoptive mother. She is a round woman with caramel-colored skin, kind brown eyes, long black hair, and blue eyes that glistened like the sea. She embraced us and then had a skinny man behind her with very pale skin carry our bags.
”Can I help?” Cindy asks, but the man ignores her and walks away. I ran to hug my social worker, Kim. We follow our stepmother inside while Kim gets back in her car and drives away.
Honestly, I’m going to miss her so much, but I can’t wait to start my new life. To have a new beginning.
Cindy’s Pov
We entered the house and felt like we had walked into a storybook. It is a bit rustic but also feels so warm and bright. As we walked in I noticed the red carpet draping the ground, an old bookshelf with different colored books with titles I recognized, the fire blazing in the fireplace with actual wood there, and the old spiraled staircase leading up the stairs.
I can smell the cookies baking in the oven and the sweets on the beautiful white coffee table in a glass bowl. But I keep getting the nagging feeling I’m sure Gretel felt when they were in the gingerbread house. But I can’t tell my brother about it. I can’t let it crush him.
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I still remember Christmas when we were five, and we found many presents under the tree, all wrapped in red and green wrapping paper. ” Santa brought them! Santa brought them!”Arnold shrieked all over our living room. Mum was concerned for her fancy glasses and the crystal on the table.
So my father stopped him, placed him on his lap, and told him harshly, There is no Santa Claus; grow up!” I was already used to my father’s harsh truths, but my brother was crushed. And now, I feel like I should keep the oddities of the town of Caster to myself.
How many places are this close to a mountain and a sea? There are many windows in the living room, and I can’t even see the kitchen. There is just a wall where I see my stepmother come back with cookies.
There are paintings on that wall of a dog, a cat, and a chicken, all of which feel like they are looking inside your soul; it is a little unsettling.
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