Forum

I need your opinions on this prologue, then who I should base Melody around. 



Melody Rose Thompson.

She never really spoke, and when she did, it was a chore. An effort that was far too tedious. But she never let anyone think that she thought that, because she was a nice polite girl. Okay, maybe not exactly as polite as she should have- could have been, but people who knew her understood that she tried. 

From an early age she would much rather hiding with her slightly pinched up nose that resembles that of a pixie's, in a book. 

She had always been much softer spoken than the other children who stormed around and threw their teddy bears around the room when they didn't get the chocolate bar that they needed ever so much.

Her eyes were like a doe's, they were big and green, matching her curly blonde hair quite well, but she never really liked it, it was an untameable mess. 

She was a silent Melody. Because that was her name. 

It was a joke her father had made up a while ago, A silent Melody, it never really humoured anybody, they just nodded and chuckled a bit in response, showing him some respect. 

Before her parent's car charged down a hill uncontrollably. 

Before it crashed into a tree. 

Before nobody really heard anything before it was too late.

The sirens, the cries, the sound of the metal door of the car being torn off to get her parents and baby sister out. It sent bad chills down her spine.

She had been phoned, told to come as soon as possible. 

That was something else that Melody Thompson didn't like. Phones. 

You had no choice but to talk down the receiver to the person on the other end. You couldn't text them or nod politely or shake your head. 

You had to talk. 

However there was that one time, the only time where she had to talk, where her dear Mother wasn't standing in the kitchen baking some sort of cake for the three of them, she might of even given baby Zara a lump if it wasn't too rich. Or sitting in the living room, resting her leg from that time she slipped in the garden, ready to talk to the strange unknown person on the other end of the phone for her daughter. 

But they were gone now. 

That would never happen again. 

Melody found it hard to believe that it had been almost five years since their death. Well, her sister wasn't dead, but as awful as it was, Melody preferred to think of her like that. It was too painful to come to terms with the truth, the fact that Zarah was ripped away from Melody and taken into care because her older sister wasn't capable of looking after a child. 

One - because she had no money whatsoever. 

Two - because she didn't speak.

And three - because she had severe anxiety disorder and she could barely look after herself. 

So to her, Zarah and both of her parents were dead. It put things to rest a little more, made her less stressed. 

______________________________

She was now twenty-two, she had a bit of money, not much but enough to live by. She guessed that was what came from being an unknown author who lived in the middle of nowhere. 

So surprise surprise, she headed to London in the hopes of finding a good publicist who liked her books. 

She would always sit at home for hours and hours, not eating, not drinking, not sleeping until she got the next paragraph finished, and that escalated to the next paragraph and the next and the next and the next.. it went on. 

She realised that writing was the only way that she could get her views of the world out there, she could hide them so discreetly that nobody could ever dream of finding them, but they would stick in their heads forever. 

You could say that writing was Melody's refuge.

So her, being the predictable girl that she was, set off for London on the train. Leaving her small almost non-existent village behind her. 

____

I know that I said she had blonde hair and green eyes, but that's just kind of in progress I suppose. 

Who do you think suits Melody most? 

Amanda Seyfried, Kaya Scodelario, Katie Mcgrath or Daphne Groeneveld? :3