Once upon a time, in a place far away, there lived a girl who loved fairy tales.
The girl's sister would read to her every night as she fell asleep, and the girl would often dream about the places of which her sister spoke.
Her imagination would never cease its adventures. Long after the sun rose she would often be found thinking and dreaming about distant places far from her small home.
After a time the sister began spin new tales of her own thought, and the girl loved these best, for her sister would often put them into the stories, telling of the small gypsy princess Tara, her faithful dog Jewel, and a tall mysterious friend with hair of the darkest brown.
But, tragedy befell the young girl in her eleventh year. After many conflicting problems her family decided to move, and the sad tale that followed is best not accounted here.
Two years of hardship later the girl returned home, bereft of childish innocence and her much loved sister. But she still possessed her imagination. And her books.
She would often steal away from her home to a secluded spot under an old peach tree, where she would read books of fantasy, the kind she still loved most.
She was happy for a while, but as time passed she still could not banish her memories of a beautiful gypsy and her loving friend, whom she had lost.
So, one day she picked up a pen, and put it to paper, accounting tales new and old. She wrote of elves, knights, mermaids, dwarves, devils, kings and vampires. She wrote of love and lust. Honor and treachery. Happiness and grief. But ever amongst her works could there be found traces of a long gone but never forgotten gypsy.
I'm fourteen, angsty, and in love with Maedhros. My sister brought me up on children's fantasy books, and that Genre of writing is still my preference. I live with my mom in the central part of the USA, and my world revolves around Fairy Tales. But, aside from the fact that I fancy myself the queen of the world what more do you need to know? ;)