Untitled Young Adult Literary Fantasy
an excerpt

The mahogany box showed briefly under a pile of old linens. You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were looking with purpose. The box was small and delicate; almost a whisper of the former tree it was once carved out of so long ago. With patient, yet eager finger, Bethany lifted the heavy quilts crushing down on the delicate box. On tip toes she wavered, unsure of her footing. Although she was ever close to falling, she was resilient in her purpose. Her small, pale fingers curled around the tarnished brass handle of the box and tugged at it until it became loose. As the box, no doubt the holder of her dreams and compass of her heart, slipped out from under the linens, those same blankets came crashing down in a barrage of light, scratchy material. The surprising and swift impact pushed her back and she tumbled out of the small closet, landing hard on her backside.
“Ooof,” she whispered softly as she pushed her long, lean leg underneath her to push herself off the hardwood floor. The floorboards creaked underneath her. If her grandmother had the hearing of a normal adult, Bethany would have been worried that her plan may come unraveled, but there was no chance that the tired old lady had heard the ruckus emanating from the old attic bedroom. After refolding the old blankets that reeked of moth balls and mold and stuffing them back into the attic closet, she turned to the box that was now tipped over on the floor beside the bed. The hinge from the top of the box had cracked as it hit the hard wooden floor, and the contents of the box were now strewn on the floor.