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Here is the first part of my story. It doesn't have a title yet (If you think of one tell me please). Please feel free to comment if you like it or don't like it. Or if you think there is a part that needs fixing.
editors note: This is what is known as a "Extremely, Horrible, Bad, Rough Draft" Seriously. I typed it up, spellchecked it once and posted it on here. If you catch a mistake, please tell me about it.
Here it is. Enjoy.

The water was cool and fresh and Lenna guzzled it eagerly. she dropped the bucket once again in the old village well and filled it up. It was her job to carry the water needed for the day. She dumped the water in two metal pots by her side and continued to drop the bucket in the well then pull it up filled with water for the pots.
When each pot was filled to the brim, she took each by the handle and headed back the two miles to her village. The day was warm and sunny and the wheat fields glistened in the sun. Usually carrying so much water was tiring, but today Lenna was excited. The yearly festival was here, with feasting and dancing. It was fun for all ages until dark, then everyone lit the candles around the floor and all the little children were sent to bed.
The couple dancing started then, where the young men would ask the ladies to dance that they had the intention of courting. Now that Lenna was fifteen she could participate. Maybe she would meet someone who would want to court her. In any case she would get to dance, as well as dress up. After tonight she no longer had to keep her hair back, she could wear it loose and flowing with flowers in her hair.
She hurried home getting to the ramshackle wood building in half her usual time. Her mother and father were inside, her mom preparing food for the festival and her father tending the fire.
“Maybe there should be a festival everyday.” Her mom said taking the water form Lenna, “Then you could get your chores done twice as fast.”
“Chores? Mother you’re making me feed the chickens and the cows? But today is the festival, it starts at noon! I won’t have time to take a bath . . . I’ll smell like cow manure!”
Both her parents threw back their heads and laughed. “Lenna, wipe that horrified look off you face, your father already took care of it this morning.”
Her father grinned and looked up from the fire. He pointed to his cheek expectantly. Lenna came over and obliged, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hurry up Lenna,” He whispered in her ear. “Your mother bought you a new dress and you have to get ready.”
Lenna jumped up, “Really?! You bought me a new dress?!”
“Yes and it’s on your bed! Now come on we must get you dressed, an hour isn’t a long time.” Her mother wiped the food from off her hands, “Martin take over for me, all you have to do is set it on the stove.”
“You know it will get burnt.” Martin said standing up.
“Yes I know, even just moving a pan to the stove, most likely you will drop it.” She hurried her daughter down the short walk space to her daughter’s bedroom. Lenna tore open the door.
“Oh Mother! It’s beautiful!” Lying on her bed was the new dress. It was the same color of her eyes, cornflower blue.
Her mother helped her put the dress over her head and fasten it up the back. It was a simple dress with a square collar and flowing sleeves. Lenna rubbed the luxurious fabric and looked at her mom questioningly.
“Your father and I have been saving for a while.” Her Mother said, “Don’t worry about the money, we knew you would be excited. Our only girl, her first time at the festival. We wanted to make it special.”
“Thank you!” Lenna turned around threw her arms around her mother. She could imagine all the extra baking and washing she had to do. “It’s beautiful.”
“It looks beautiful on you. Now turn around so I can tie your sash.” Lenna turned around obediently. Her mother grabbed a yellow strip of fabric from around Lenna’s bed post and tied it around Lenna’s waist. “There now your dress is perfect.”
“SANRA!” A voice called from the kitchen, “I think it’s burning!”
Sanra sighed, “That husband of mine.” She hurriedly walked to the kitchen.
Lenna pulled out the only mirror she had. Her father had found mirror shards from a broken hand mirror that had fallen off a merchants cart. As a birthday present he had glued them together as best he could and made a wooden handle for her to use. Now looking at the fragmented surface she got a good idea of how her dress looked.
Turning around her room she examined it. It was a simple room, furnished with only a bed and a wooden trunk. She had no window as it would leak during the rainy season, as her family could not afford glass. Wearing the beautiful blue dress, she felt out of place in her home.
Her mother ran back into the room out of breath. “Your father needs to know the difference between browning and burning.” She walked over to her daughter and started to pull at the hairpins holding the two braids in place at the nape of her neck. “After today, you can wear your hair loose whenever you want.”
Pulling the final pin out, Sanra began separating the braids and finally Lenna’s hair hung unbound. It hung long and flowing, the color of ripened wheat. Not many girls in the village had that color. In fact, no one in the nearest three villages had as beautiful hair. Sanra knew her daughter would be dancing tonight.
“How shall we dress it?” Lenna asked.
Her mother smiled and pulled out blue flowers from the pocket in her apron. “I thought we would use these.” She pinned them in a halo around Lenna’s head.
Martin came running in then, panting. His face was covered in burnt food and ash covered his face. “It exploded,” He said lamely, looking at his wife. “Sorry.”
Lenna and Sanra laughed. They both rushed over and gave him a kiss, one on each cheek. “Doesn’t Lenna look pretty?” Sanra asked, taking a handkerchief and wiping at Martin’s face.
“She looks beautiful. She’ll be the prettiest one there.” He took her arm, and smiled at her. “Don’t fall for the first man you meet. I have a feeling many will want to court you.”
“You won’t turn them away will you?”
“No I won’t. I’m just telling you to be careful. No girl should be married at fifteen. No matter how in love.” He tried to look at her sternly, but at the edges of his mouth lingered a smile.
“Father, don’t worry. There are too many to look at, I won’t fall for the first one I see!” Lenna giggled and twirled around in a circle. “When are we going?”
“As soon as I can get Mathew and Marlow dressed,” Her mom answered pushing Martin and Lenna toward the kitchen. “It won’t take long, don’t worry.”
At that moment, two little boys rushed into the house, covered in mud and feathers. “Mother!” They both cried at once.
Sanra held up a hand. “One at a time.”
“Marlow pushed me in the chicken coop!”
“Only because Mathew pushed me first!”
“I did not! I just dumped feathers on your head!”
“No you didn’t! You only did that after I pushed you!”
“No! You pushed me first!”
“No I-”
“Boys!” Sanra grabbed both by the collar and dragged them outside. “At this point it doesn’t matter who pushed who first,”
“But Mother-”
“Don’t Mother me, Mathew. Do you remember what day it is?”
“No.” Both replied in unison.
“It’s the day of the festival!” She dragged them over to a huge basin of water. It was used to water the livestock and to water some of the plants growing around the house. Taking a wooden bucket, she dumped water on each of their heads and scrubbed the mud and feathers off, revealing faces almost exactly the same. It was unusual and almost unheard of to have two babies at the same time. It had almost cost Sanra her life and it had cost her her ability to have children. But she loved Mathew and Marlow dearly even though they were exhausting children.
“Can we have candy?!”
“And cake?!” They both looked eagerly at their mother, dripping wet.
“Yes! But only if you behave.”
“Yep we will!”
“Don’t worry about that!”
Handing them an old saddle blanket she pushed them toward the house. “I laid your good clothes on your bed, go put them on. Then we can go to the festival.”
“Hey Mother,” Mathew said looking up at her, “You remember those beggar clothes we made this morning?”
Sanra turned to face them both. “You mean the ones all cut up with holes and dirt smudges?”
“Yes. Well . . .”
“Well what?” She asked dangerously.
“Well . . .” Marlow said swallowing nervously. “Those were our good clothes.”
“Mathew, Marlow!” She shouted, throwing her hands in the air, “You better run as fast as you can to the festival before I catch you!”
Marlow and Mathew took off running, down the dirt path. “You know the good thing about this Mathew?”
“What?”
“At least we’ll dry off before we get there.”