This is my very first attempt at this sort of writing, and also my first submission. Please go kindly on me.
Marphisa looked at her toes, so unfamiliar in these shiny, black, patent leather shoes. How could this happen? How could fate be so cruel as to make her live through this day, when she hadn't yet reached her eighth birthday?
As Marphisa looked out over the graveyard, past the freshly dug patch of ground that she knew held her father. Next to her, Marphisa's mother, Adèle, was weeping silently, a vast improvement over her hysterics during the funeral. Now that the family had said good-bye to most of the guests, just friendly acquaintances of the late Gauthier Boutin and his family, Marphisa found herself left with just her feelings.
She watched the burial of her father in silence, wondering how life was going to be from now on. She supposed that her mother would continue as normal, there was no reason for her get a job with the money that Gauthier's parents had left in their estate. Soon the entire family would have to split up and Marphisa and her brothers would have to go back to America with her mother.
Marphisa had been in France many times before, mostly with her father. Gauthier had owned a French château on the countryside, near Lyons. Now, Marphisa supposed, her brother Raoul probably owned it. Raoul was only ten years old, just a couple years older that herself, and Marphisa wondered if this meant that something would happen to the château. She sincerely hoped not, because that was the only memory of her father she had left.
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"Mari! Come on, we're going to be late!" Adèle turned back to her son Raoul and scowled, a very unbecoming look on the young mother. "You said your sister was ready. Where is she?" When Raoul just shrugged, his brother Michel poked his head out of the car.
"Maman, I saw her clock room. I'm sorry, I should have told you." Michel hung his head in shame.