Genre: YA Gothic
Word Count: 84,000
My Main Character would use sun or snow to battle their biggest obstacle:
My MC would find the sun more helpful in fighting her biggest obstacle, since the answers to some mysteries are buried deep and snow would make it that much harder to unearth the truth. The sun would also shed light on the harsh realities Ophelia needs to learn about those closest to her.
Ophelia has always felt like a ghost ...the ghost of her dead sister, Ophelia.
The death of Ophelia’s sister has always been a mystery. Knowing only that she was born moments after her sister died, the labor induced by her mother’s shock, her mother named her Ophelia as well, convinced she was the incarnation of her dead sister.
Growing up in a funeral home, Ophelia is no stranger to death, and having a somewhat sheltered life, she finds comfort in those who have passed. Nearing her eighteenth birthday, however, she is tired of feeling like a shadow of a person and an echo of her sister’s former self. Determined to find the truth so she can forge her own identity, Ophelia searches for answers to how her sister really died and why her family has tried so hard to cover it up. But as she digs deeper, she unearths a stream of lies that changes everything she’s ever believed about herself, her family, as well as her sister, Ophelia.
First 250 words:
The moon was bright and full despite the heavy fog. It had rained earlier, which meant the ground would be mushy, riddled with big fat earthworms weaving their way to the surface, but I didn’t care. It was an auspicious time and I needed to visit the graveyard.
I grabbed the spirit board and slipped out by the back stairs. Cora sat in the parlor sipping sherry as she did each night after my parents went to bed. It was understood between us she’d keep my secret as long as I kept hers.
“Bring your coat, Ophelia,” she whispered, lighting a cigarette. “You’ll catch your death out there.”
I nodded and grabbed my cape from the hook by the back door. Silently, I walked into the damp night. I could barely see three feet in front of me, but I knew the way, even in my sleep.
I walked along the edge of the property until I came to the rock wall leading to a wrought iron gate that had been rusted shut for years. Near the gate, part of the wall had crumbled enough for me to climb to the other side. I maneuvered through the mist, my feet squishing into the moist ground, trying not to trip over headstones. I continued until I spotted the tips of the angel wings that stood atop three slabs of gray marble engraved with roses.
Ophelia Abigail Winters, Beloved Daughter & Sister.