The girl who had no ordinary voice Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Andrew

Well, there you have it!

Her name is Anabel and she is a woodsy girl who loves to sing.

Now why do you suppose though she loves to sing; she never speaks nor lets anyone hear her when she starts breathing out a musical beat?

Hello, my name is Andrew. I am the narrator of sorts here in this so-called fairy tale of sorts, much without the fairies that is. I, myself, do not live in the woods like that of Anabel. Rather I am a painter from Dublin and a frequent traveler to various places. My favorites being ones seemingly untouched by man.

Rather short for a man of my stature, I love to wear tweed jackets and from time to time I smoke a bit of a pipe. In my spare time, I love a good mystery. Though for myself these usually were found safely within the confines of my small flat. I'm a great lover of books, you see. And though I love to pick up a good story, I'll admit this is my first go at writing one. It all began of course while I was on the road.

In one of my travels I heard of a forest that was a type of Eden. Upon hearing the natural beauty of the forest floor untamed, the glistening of the waters that filled up a lake at the center of the wild tangles of bramble bushes and pine-scented trees, and the lustrous glow of the tall peaks surrounding said forest, I decided it was worth a trip and began the preparations.

I could go into length about my journey to said paradise but that can wait until a future date for this is not my story. It is Anabel's. And it is here on this grand adventure on which I set out on that I came across a little girl who though appeared rather shy and timid, and spoke not a sound, was rather rambunctious and full of deep dark secrets, the sort that would make your ears itch with anticipation at discovering said secrets and the pure honor of being allowed the trust to share in them. For you see, Anabel was no ordinary girl. And she had no ordinary life.