The Canvas, Part I

Here is the first installment of my new children's story, The Canvas. Enjoy!

“Emerson, the guests are almost here, will you please let me in?” said Emerson’s mother as she knocked on the door. Emerson removed the blockade of chairs and stuffed animals from the door and let her mother enter.
“You look darling! Oh, aren’t you so glad that you’re wearing the dress your grandmother gave you?” Emerson looked down at her dark pink dress, mumbled inaudibly under her breath, and longingly glanced at the heap of jeans and a t-shirt that she was planning on wearing to the banquet that night.
Emerson’s family lived in a giant white mansion on the mountainside. The house itself had been passed down generation to generation, and now is the staple venue for dinners and balls for family and friends. Two monstrous white pillars and a circle driveway framed the beautiful double-door entrance, while a massive field and towering trees set a picturesque backdrop behind the house. In the tallest tree sat a gorgeous two-story treehouse, Emerson’s personal getaway and playhouse. Emerson loved her home, but disliked the strict rules that came with having expensive things in every single room. The treehouse was her only refuge from constant nagging about manners, discipline, and the responsibilities of growing young girls.
Emerson was especially not thrilled about the banquet tonight, for her mother had been criticizing her every move since they were asked to host this event. Emerson was asked not to braid her hair at the dinner table, for it was impolite; she was asked to sit up and cross her legs while in the family room, for it was not ladylike to lounge; she was scolded at for running through the hallways in her socks and sliding on the floors, for she could break something valuable. Emerson was sick and tired of all the rules, and now she had to be a “lady” in a pink dress with ruffles and gold buttons that her grandmother had probably paid a fortune for. She knew tonight wasn’t going to be any fun at all.
The doorbell rang. Emerson looked out the window to see a few guests arriving in big fur coats and fancy bow ties. Her mother grabbed her hand. Emerson dug her heels into the ground as her mother started pulling her towards the door.
“You better be on your best behavior tonight, missy,” her mother said with a stern look. Emerson, fearing the wrath of her mother after the banquet, decided she would at least try to follow some rules. She smiled the biggest, fakest smile she could bear, then politely walked down the spiral staircase with her mother.