Is this place real?

The house looks small from the car window - made from dark wood with a stone basement, you can't really believe you have to spend the next three weeks here. Are your parents insane? The windows look tiny, most of them shut tight, and even the door is smaller than it is in most places. Judging by the well right of the house, there isn't even running water - you curse under your breath, knowing you will hate every second of your stay here.

Glancing in the car mirror, you admire yourself again - a girl of fifteen. Reddish hair, brown eyes - nothing special. At school, they told you you looked like a fox, and secretly, you agree - although the ears you were given for Christmas weren't all that funny. Just over five feet tall, and a little over a hundred pounds, your body is good-looking, but nothing special.

As you turn back to the house, you notice a small booth next to it and realise that must be the outhouse. Wonderful! After a three-hour ride, your bladder is bursting.

"Casey, come help with getting the things out!" comes a voice from behind you. It's your mother, calling you to unload the car. You get out of the car and feel your bladder give another sign of desperation - that outhouse would be great right now, no matter how dirty it is.
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