The Wishing Well

Chapter 1

A clock on the wall told her it was five, its face looking gloomy as Olivia felt. Both of them watched her mother unpack, except its face was dark in the shadows, hiding in place. If only it could be this easy for her. Maybe if she wound it backwards, it would reverse time.

All she wanted was to go home.

September was gloomy, but it was far worse here. This little stretch of road was far from any form of civilization. It was a strange place; when they drove in, she'd thought it a joke. How could this possibly be their new home? There wasn't a soul around to speak with, so she resorted to meaningful glances at an emotionless clock. It was useless except to tell her how long she'd been here—and how long it would be till she left.

It could be years.

Olivia watched blankly as her mother organized old classics on a shelf. “So where's the rest of the people?” she asked at last, breaking the silence. “This has to be the deadest place in all of Maine.”

“They're studying,” her mother replied, ignoring her last comment. “It's September, right? I told you about the old schoolhouse down the road.”

“Oh, right.” She tried to wrap her mind around the idea once more. “I'm still homeschooled but I'm going to a schoolhouse now.”

“You'd understand if you decided to go for a visit,” was the sharp reply. “I think you should, anyway. Get some fresh air.”

Olivia gazed at the dull sunlight that spilled in through the window. She couldn’t decide if the curtains made it darker—after all, perhaps even the sun didn't like this place.

“It might change your mind,” Mom added hopefully. “I know you're smarter than to hate the place before you even see it.”

“My mind isn't going to change,” Olivia replied, playing indignantly with a lock of hair. “At the most I'll understand the...” She paused, then said slowly, “The concept of a schoolhouse for homeschoolers to learn in a group but among people they know. Wouldn't that be more distracting?” Having found entertainment in being a nuisance, she continued, more boldly this time. “I have always been a homeschooler but you told me to study alone so I would actually learn something. Why did you change your mind?”

“Go for a walk,” Mom snapped. “You really need air.”

Olivia sighed and gave up, but hesitated halfway to the door. She didn't want her mind to be changed. She glanced at the clock; it watched her mournfully, and she felt very much like a traitor abandoning a friend. “I need air, but not from this place,” she muttered at last. Then she snatched her coat from the rack by the entrance, and marched outside without a look back.

The neighborhood was very small and old. Olivia took in some flowerbeds, a front yard with dying grass, a bicycle.

The first crisp leaves of autumn had fallen to the ground. They glowed the most pleasant shades of red and gold, covering the streets and giving them a coat. Nobody had done any raking in this neighborhood, so the road was painted with several layers of red. If someone stepped on it, the beautiful painting would be smudged and vanish.

The entire neighborhood looked like something out of a fairy tale during autumn. She took in all the sights and smells, and tried to reason with herself. It's not that bad, Olivia, said her conscience. Just give it a chance. It would be nice to give it a chance, because the place was beautiful. Although maybe it was a bad fairy tale, and she was the main character who would perish.

Something was different here, she realized, stopping to hug herself tightly. Or maybe it was just her own imagination.

Olivia stepped into the flawless coat of red leaves, feeling satisfaction when that perfect painting was destroyed. Anyone looking out their window would see her—a short brunette without a coat, stomping on the autumn leaves. Destroying a work of art, kicking away shades of gold.