THE CURSED PRINCE OF VENICE

It rained heavily in the kingdom of Venice and the entire streets were either muddy or wet. Dark clouds covered the entire sky as if they were waiting to pour anytime soon. Inside a small wooden hut at the outskirts of the village was a young girl lying beside a wooden bed. Her clothes were torn out, messy hair, and her skin was malnourished, making her look like a fifteen-year-old (skinny girl). The only sound was the hoarse cough through the silence. “Mom, here take some water,” said Hazel, pressing a chapped cup onto her mother's lips . Right in the middle of the room stood Lincoln, Hazel's younger brother with his hands crossed and his jaw tight. “She needs medicine,” his voice cracked. “We need to get her to a hospital, but we don't have the money. What do we do?” Lincoln said, throwing his hands up in frustration.  “We need to get her to a hospital, but we don't have the money. What do we do?” Lincoln said, throwing his hands up in frustration.  For a moment, nobody answered. Only the sound of their mother's painful coughing filled the little hut. Neither Hazel nor Lincoln knew that their mother's illness was only the beginning of a darker secret, one that would soon lead Hazel straight toward the cursed palace and its dangerous prince.