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Charlie was well beyond confused when he opened his eyes, sat up, and peered around the room he currently resided in. His recent trip to the past refreshed his memory of his old, Victorian family manor, but not of the federal styled home he lived in when he was a young boy. He couldn't understand why he was was back in this place. Charlie groaned out in pain as a massive headache took over him.

"Well, that's a sensation I'm not familiar with." Charlie grumbled to himself as he rubbed the skin on this forehead. Of course, Charlie had been on the other end of some nasty hits when it came to witches. But usually, the pain was quick to subside to the point where he could almost recall never feeling it at all. However, it was sticking with him this time, and he didn't find it pleasant. He pulled himself up from the maroon patterned carpet on the floor beneath him and looked around the office of his old family home. He thought for a moment as he looked around.

"Now, surely I'm not back in this awful place. It's well gone by now." Charlie said to himself. He then approached his father's desk and reached his hand out to take an hourglass sat atop it. He lifted it with ease, half expecting it to go through him. Memory's don't do that, Charlie thought.

"This must not be a memory of mine, but a dream. Those damn witches!" Charlie exclaimed, letting out a groan. He then exit the office and began walking down a long hall. Eventually, he reached the front of the house where the staircase resided. He was taken aback when he saw his eldest and youngest brother running out of the room. Not long after, his eldest sister stomped through the room, holding knives in her hand. Charlie immediately winced, knowing of the activity taking place.

"If you two idiots do not get back here with my skirt, I will not hesitate to put holes in you!" Jane shouted as she continued to angerly stomp out of the room. Molly giggled as she followed closely behind.

"Oh, dear sister. They're boys! Surely, you don't expect them to." Molly spoke with an amused tone. Not long after, a young version of Charlie ran into the room, dressed in his best clothing from the late 1730's. Charlie quickly noticed how the version of himself was around the ages of 9-12. Charlie tilted his head at the little boy version of himself as he tried to remember this. He figured, he had to have lived this at some point before. Everything seemed so realistic, especially his sister chasing after the younger ones with knives. He always remembered it as her favorite game, but when they were younger, it was more of a tactic to get what she wanted.

"Wait for me, wait for me!" Younger Charlie called out. Before he could make it out of the room, a hand gripped ahold of the back of his sweater vest. Younger Charlie turned to see his mother, dressed in her best royal blue gown.

"You're wasting precious time, Charlie. I am disappointed with you." Astrid said as she harshly dragged younger Charlie back.

"I'm not the only one wasting time. The boys have Jane's skirt!" Younger Charlie exclaimed. Astrid came to a halt, peering down at her son. She knelt down to the floor and gripped tightly to younger Charlie. Unbeknownst to him, she used her beast like strength to hold him front of her, as if he was going to take off. Younger Charlie tried not to wince at how tightly she held onto his arms. He didn't want to be scolded and called human by his mother.

"Talk back to your mother again, and I'll lock you in the cellar after tonight's soirée." Astrid spoke sternly, making Charlie's eyes widen. "Run along, now." Astrid then spat before harshly shoving him behind her, making him stumble a bit. Charlie watched as the younger version of himself looked back at his mother with the saddest pair of eyes. She turned back only for a moment, staring at her son with unreadable eyes. For a moment, Charlie thought he could read them. He thought perhaps he saw the slightest bit of guilt. But quickly, the look disappeared and she shoved him once more.

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