Name: Matilda Bray
Title: Amy's Adventure
Life was boring for young Amy. She had no siblings to keep her company, so her long autumnal afternoons where often spent playing in the garden with her ragdolls, dressing up the cat, or being forced to do her French reading by the formidable governess, Mrs. Primly. Although she enjoyed doing these things, Amy’s favourite pastime was day dreaming. She could spend hours gazing into the middle distance, thinking up fantasy lands full of knights with ego issues, court jesters who resembled her classmates in their relentless fooling, and fair maidens who would consider themselves ‘in distress’ sat in bed. She would take great adventures in her dreamlands, quests guided only by enchanted maps and the stars. Silver wizards with mysterious magic, who gave riddles, and blue glowing sprites, scattered her mind. There wasn’t a time when there wasn’t a tale swimming at the back of her conscious. Being an only child, she used her imagination as a tool in her everyday life, as she sheltered herself from boredom. She filled her grey, monotonous days with magical, musical colour.
It was a Friday, a warm one, at least for an English countryside. Amy trudged upstairs to her bedchambers, pulling at her dress, which was lined with mud. When Mrs. Primly had found her running in the gardens, the soil and dirt flicking round her stockings, the governess had chewed her ear off for what felt like hours. Mrs. Primly, who was very strict, condemned Amy to another forty-five minutes of arithmetic practise before dinner. Pulling some fresh stockings under her pale blue dress, Amy felt her stomach rumble, remembering she hadn’t had lunch. Making for the door, she checked her reflection in the mirror of her vanity dresser, touching her soft brown hair. She stood there for a few seconds, lost in thought. She only snapped out of her daze when she saw something move in the mirror. Amy whipped round, studying her empty bedroom. Could an intruder have penetrated her seemingly closed windows? Surely not. Scrutinizing the mirror once again, she dismissed the thought, putting it down to pure starvation.
The next morning, as Amy sat at the vanity once again, pulling rollers out of her hair, and smoothing it all down with a brush, she got the primeval feeling of being watched. She looked her reflection dead in the eye and told herself out-loud not to be so silly. The reflection did not move. Instead, it smiled. A cheeky grin, warm and childish. Feeling her face with her hands, Amy reassured herself she had not moved her cheeks. She hadn’t. The young girl nearly passed out from shock, and it took all her will not to scream out. Looking past her reflection, with its impish grin, she noticed what stood behind it. A mountain scape, complete with towering pines and snow-capped peaks. Lingering at the entrance to the mirror-world was a knight atop a muscled jet-black horse, a grey- robed old man with a glint in his eye, and an anxious- looking young woman in a periwinkle silk dress. Amy, looking back at her altered reflection, noticed that it had its hand extended in front of it, inviting her to take it. In an impulse, the girl took it. And that is how Amy’s Adventure began.