(no subject)
Ten year old Leslie Burke looks around, wide-eyed as she enters the mansion. This- this was certainly not what she expected. The enchanted rope swing that served as the entrance to Terabithia was not supposed to lead to a mansion. Although mansions were not without their charm.
"Well, gee." She wipes her hands on her dusty old faded cut off jeans. It probably wouldn't escape anyone's notice that she's dresed rather like a boy. Also, she's covered in dust and dried mud like she's been playing in the dirt all day. "What is this place?"
(Typist: Leslie, from Bridge to Terabithia)
"Well, gee." She wipes her hands on her dusty old faded cut off jeans. It probably wouldn't escape anyone's notice that she's dresed rather like a boy. Also, she's covered in dust and dried mud like she's been playing in the dirt all day. "What is this place?"
(Typist: Leslie, from Bridge to Terabithia)