Windridge Notes

Chapter 1 | Words

W O R D S

. . .

Welcome back to me, Windridge.

Windridge always had this eerie, timeless feel to it, like it was trapped in some forgotten corner of the world. The northern coast of the place held it tight where the sea met the cliffs. The stone cottages, the worn-down shops, the old taverns—they all seemed frozen in time, weathered by salt and wind.

And then there was the lighthouse... standing tall but lifeless at the village's edge, no light, no purpose. It used to feel like a guardian when I was a kid, but now, it was just a tower. The sea, though... the sea never changed. It whispered its secrets to the villagers, secrets that no one ever fully understood.

As I stepped off the bus and onto the cracked cobblestone road, that familiar smell of salt and pine hit me. It's funny how certain smells can pull memories right out of you, even when you're not ready for them. I stood there for a second just breathing it in.

Windridge used to feel like my kingdom—long, lazy summers spent exploring every inch of this place. Back then, we were invincible.

Or at least, we thought we were.

I adjusted the strap of my old leather satchel. It felt heavier than it should've, still packed with college books I hadn't touched since finals. The thought of coming back home had gnawed at me for months, but now that I was here... it didn't feel right. Everything looked the same, but nothing felt the same.

The first person I saw was Mrs. Abernathy. She lived next door to us for as long as I could remember. She was shuffling down the street with Henry, her terrier, who still had more energy than she could handle. When she saw me, her face lit up.

"Owen, dear! Back home for the summer?" she called out. Her voice was like the creak of an old door—familiar, comforting in a way.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, Mrs. Abernathy. Just got in."

She hobbled closer, squinting up at me. "You've grown. You're looking more and more like your father every day, you know that? He'd be proud."

My throat tightened at the mention of Dad. I swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. "Thanks. It's good to see you."

"And you as well, dear." She paused for a moment, her face softening. "It must be hard, coming back after... well, after everything with Liam. Such a tragedy. You boys were so close."

Her words hit me like a punch. Liam. I forced another smile, though it felt like my face might crack. "Yeah, it's been tough."

Mrs. Abernathy reached out and patted my arm gently. "If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't," I replied, though I knew I probably wouldn't take her up on that offer. I never was good at opening up to people, and talking about Liam... that felt like tearing open a wound that was barely starting to heal.

As she continued on her way, I stood there, watching her slowly disappear down the street. My gaze drifted to the ocean beyond the cliffs. The waves crashed against the rocks, relentless as always. The sea used to be Liam's escape, his sanctuary. Now it just felt cruel, like it had stolen him away and left nothing behind but this hollow emptiness.

I took a deep breath and turned to start the walk home.

. . .

Our cottage sat at the edge of the village, tucked between these massive pine trees that always felt like they were standing guard. The house was old, with ivy creeping up the stone walls and a roof that leaked every time it rained. But despite everything, it was still home. Coming back here felt strange, but there was a part of me that was grateful for it.