My First Writing Challenge (#1)

At the Well by Daniel Ridgway Knight
Not sure if my characters will look anything like them.

Each Sunday, until the new year, I will post a piece of fiction that I have worked on during the week. It will not be my best; I doubt it will even be decent. However, at this point, for me, it is the best way to work on a habit: writing fiction daily. At the very least, dear readers, I hope you find it entertaining. Maybe you will learn something. Perhaps even be inspired to do some writing of your own. 

Tonight's work is unfinished, unedited, and purely exposition. I did not start it until this afternoon. The first paragraph appeared around 2 pm. The rest arrived during a one hour stint after dinner. It is the first draft of a story's beginning; therefore, it is raw and unrefined. That is what I get for procrastinating. And you, dear reader, have to suffer through it, because I refuse to go another Sunday without showing something.

At this point, I may take the advice of two fans, and work on a single short story, uploading new sections, or heavily edited portions from the prior week. Please forgive tonight's selection. I am aware it is lacking in many areas. However, I promise to work harder on future posts.

(Writing the first paragraph was exciting. It made me realize what I have been missing.)

Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Jack and a girl named Jill. They grew up together, in a house that stood at the bottom of a tall, barren hill. At the top was a well. A zig, zag dirt path led to it. The children were not overly fond of that path. In the spring, it would be mud-filled from the frequent rainfalls. During the summer, dust from it would cover their clothes. Throughout the winter, cold biting winds, deep, wet snows, or hidden ice patches would make the trek dangerous. Only the autumn would be pleasant enough for the two to enjoy making their daily way up and down that hill.

Despite having the same home, Jack and Jill were not siblings, but very close friends. The boy's aunt Sally owned the property, and took the children under her care when both sets of parents had died a few years prior, while traveling together to another village. The aunt had been the father's older sister, and like most older siblings, always knew what was best. She was also a childless widow of a wealthy merchant who had no surviving relations of his own. Othewise, Aunt Sally would never have inherited that sprawling property with the beautiful house at the base of the hill on top of which stood a well.

Being the oldest, and, therefore, the wisest, she decided what was best for the two children, and that was for them to leave their shacks on the outskirts of the village, and join her in a larger, cleaner home. While to many it seemed like the selfless act of a kind, rich widow, and a chance for this childless woman to enjoy the trappings of motherhood, Aunt Sally had another reason for her generosity. The home was spacious, filled with furniture and knickknacks. which required constant upkeep. The property was sprawling covered in gardens and small orchards, which demanded regular tending. And, of course, the source of the drinking water was atop a hill, which meant navigating a winding dirt path every day. The work meant hiring people. That meant spending money. Besides being the wisest, Aunt Sally was also the stingiest of her family. And so, Jack and Jill joined the half dozen servants and hired hands living on the property.

While their days were filled with constant scrubbing of floors, pulling of weeds, and fetching pails of water, surrounded by antique chairs, chiming clocks, and colorful draperies, Jack and Jill never complained. Aunt Sally might forbid them to sit at the ornately carved desk, imported from overseas, or deny them the embroidered silk outfits like the kinds she would wear throughout the house. However, she never skimped on food. The children, as well as rest of the household, save for Aunt Sally herself, ate well: a small snack upon waking, to get them started on their chores; a modest lunch to see them through the afternoon; finally, a large dinner to compensate them their hard physical labours. To Jack and Jill, who lived in a shack along the village edge, these meals were a feast. And so, neither child complained much about the work, nor about Aunt Sally.

Since their parents' untimely death, two years passed while the children toiled away on the property by day, and slept away their satisfying dinners by night. But both Jack and Jill, born of the same year, were coming of age, and they began looking towards a cloudy future. While content with their current circumstance, something inside them took root. It yearned for something new and exciting. With each passing season, the feeling threw down stronger roots, and stretched out with longer branches. During chores and treks up the hill, they discussed possiblities. At meal time, they asked the others, who were all much older, more and more about their own lives. But never Aunt Sally. Something warned them not to engage her about the future. And so two years passed as they discussed their plans.

Little did they know that their dear Aunt Sally had alrady decided their path. Just liked she had decided where the two of them were going to live after their parents' deaths. One morning, an older girl appeared at the front door while Jack and Jill were out fetching pails of water. Her name was Jane, and she was about to change the lives of those two children forever.    

(To be continued... and heavily rewritten...)