The House I Used to Live In

<p>This story begins when I was much older worlds away from those early years and I had a daughter of my own. </p><p>I’m Miranda and I’m living a life I’ve prepared myself. But that life never came. My parents worried about me. So did my teachers. Though the safe path was always right in front of me I kept veering off it into something which did not seem unknown or perilous until it was too late to prevent the damage. </p><p>My aunts and uncles referred to me as a free spirit and exchanged glances which suggested in an adult way that they were a little worried about how I was going to turn out. </p><p>Despite my mother’s many attempts at reeducation I never quite got over that impulse toward wandering and adventure that got me into so much trouble—not until the events which form the basis of this story anyway.</p>