A Trip Down Memory Lane

Sitting in the car, I looked into the distance, as my brother Harry drove us deeper into the countryside. We were driving to our grandparents' house set far, far away from the rest of civilization, for a simple visit. But where was it? For miles and miles, all I could see was dry grass waving in the light breeze. We had left the city two hours ago, and I still couldn't see anything.

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" I asked, turning to look at him. He shook his head. "Just following my trusty GPS," he said, nodding at his phone. I picked it up and looked at the map - no sign of humanity anywhere near us. "You can't just keep driving like this, you know," I stated, placing the phone back next to him. "We'll be fine, don't worry," he replied in an exasperated voice.

I sighed and sat back. Just then, my phone rang. We both jumped in our seats from the sudden noise. I fumbled in my handbag for the phone, found it, and aggressively hit the Answer button before the call was cut. "Hello?" I mumbled, still a bit shocked.

"Where are you?" A masculine voice floated through the phone. "Dave!" I exclaimed, looking at Harry. He whipped his head around and looked at me, shock written all over his face. "We're on our way to our grandma's house." He huffed. "Fine. Bye," he said abruptly. "Wait, what-" he cut the phone before I could finish my sentence. I took the phone away from my ear. "What?" Harry asked. "He just cut the phone," I said.

"Huh," he said simply, letting out his breath. He looked back at the road. I put my phone into my bag and set my eyes on the road. I still couldn't spot any kind of settlement nearby. As I stared at the road, my mind drifted off, and old memories of Harry and me playing with my grandparents began coming to my head. I remembered one incident when Harry and I were playing in their backyard and he accidentally cut his hand on a bush, and I cut my hand trying to help him. We both started crying heavily, and our grandfather bandaged our hands, and our grandmother made cookies.

I started smiling at the memory and Harry looked at me like I was retarded. "Why are you suddenly smiling?" he asked. "Just thinking," I replied. He shook his head and looked back at the road.

After another hour of what seemed like infinity, we finally spotted a brown mansion in the distance, which we reached after 15 minutes. It seemed empty from the outside, surrounded by dusty land in all directions. Harry parked the car in front of the house, and we both stepped out to survey it. "Oh, goodie," I grinned, and walked up to the front door. Harry joined me on the porch as I knocked on the door.

Harry pushed me slightly to the side, pulling out a bunch of keys from his pocket. "You have keys?" I asked, puzzled. "Since when did you have keys?" "Since a long time ago," he claimed. He rattled one of the keys around in the lock and opened the door. A cloud of dust came out. "It's so dusty," I stated, coughing. "Yeah," he said. "And where are they?" I asked. "How am I to know?" he snapped. I raised my eyebrows and stepped past him into the house. But he does know, a small voice whispered in my mind. I shook my head.

"They've probably just gone out," he said, sighing. I nodded. "Anyway," I continued. "I'm stepping out into the garden. You can wait for them here all alone." I looked back at him to see his reaction. He waved his hand. "Go ahead," he said. I turned front and walked up to the back door. "Bye, Harold!" I said, and chuckled at the sound of him wincing. He had always hated being called by his full name.

I reached the back door and carefully pulled it open, scared it would tear off its hinges. It felt like nobody had used it for years. I stepped out, shutting the door behind me, and my jaw dropped. I was facing a garden, filled with trees and bushes and flowers, so green and beautiful. I walked into it, smelling the sweet air, enjoying the slight breeze blowing.

I noticed that the garden was quite long, and as I kept walking, I reached a well in what I presumed to be the middle of the garden. I stopped next to it, and gazed into the well.