The Island: Ch1P1

So I joined the group ! This will give me the opportunity to tell you guys how Kiawah Island began. Please pardon the crappy background, I only spent an hour on this

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Music: [link]

A red truck drove smoothly down the road exiting Charleston, South Carolina. The light was starting to become golden in the afternoon sun, illuminating the marsh landscape. Driving the car, a young woman, about 18, rested her hand out the window, her reddish blonde hair flowing in the air. She looked at a sign coming up on her left, and turned. She drove down the road into a quaint little village. “Welcome to Freshfields” stated the rusty sign. The paint was slowly peeling off with age, but still depicted the rolling hills and village behind the letters. She continued to drive past the village, and came to where two roads split. One sign pointed to Seabrook Island; its road clean and landscape manicured. The other pointed to Kiawah Island. The grass around it had overgrown, and the road was covered in debris. The girl turned towards the latter, and drove down the bumpy road. Her heart sank as she saw how time had claimed back the once beautiful marshland. Its old greenery was slowly dying, and there were no wildlife to be seen. Eventually, a bridge appeared, with a sign overhead announcing that you had entered the island. The girl prayed that the bridge could support the weight of the car. It did, and she drove all the way through the island. It was very diverse, and showed most of the landscape that can be found in South Carolina. From the forest; its trees covered in Spanish moss, the lengthy beaches, the open grass, and of course, the marsh. The girl slowed as a branch in the road appeared, and she drove down the new one. After a minute, she came upon a huge house. The paint was peeling, and any surface of porch or roof was covered in debris. A tear dripped down the girl’s face as she opened the door. Inside, cool air surrounded her, as her shoes tapped across the house. She entered the dining room, to be met by a letter:

Dearest Sloane,
It grieves me to write this letter, for my time has come. Don’t be sad, but be happy that we have had some time together. This island has brought us much joy and adventure, and it’s now your time to have even more adventures. As you have known, I have talked with your parents about the arrangement, and the other heirs have agreed: since we were the closest to each other, I leave the entire estate to you. This includes the island and everything on it, including the house. I know this isn’t the cleanest place; it is hard to take care of such an old house at my age! So I bought you your parent’s old apartment over in Seabrook until you get settled here.
Do you remember our plan when you were little? How we would open a riding barn and have horses? This is your opportunity! The money I have left you is a very large amount. As you know, when your grandfather was alive he had been very successful at work, and has left us a great amount of money to get you started. But whatever you do with this island, please help preserve the nature and treat it right.
Forever yours,
Grandma Carol

Sloane set down the letter, and slowly sat down. The gravity hit her immediately. She had known about her grandmother’s death for the past week, but it hadn't really hit her until now. Started crying, and sank down into one of the chairs. She continued to do so, until the evening sunlight beamed through her window. She stopped, and turned towards the windows. Wiping away her tears, she got up, opened the back door and walked towards the beach, located right outside the house. The sun had turned the water the colors of fire, and the trees golden. She sat down on the cool sand, and watched the sun set. Her sadness was gone, for she knew that her beloved grandmother would not want her to be. She took a stick, and drew a horse in the sand. She remembered all the good times that she had with her grandmother. Every summer her family would come to the islands. Usually Sloane spent most her time at Kiawah, where her grandparents lived. They had a small, four horse barn, where Sloane had a little pony that she rode around the island, while her grandmother rode her Friesian. They would gallop down the beach and through the forest. The memories brought a smile to the girl’s face. I can do this. I’m in school for veterinary training anyways, and I have a large riding background. I can do this! Sloane got up, and went back to her car. She drove to her new home in Seabrook, excited for the future.