It's dark.
I can barely make out the silhouettes surrounding me. The room I'm standing in looks similar to a basement, I'm facing the door leading out. There's a sense of dread saying not to look behind me, but something from the darkness says otherwise.
"Lorraine..."
My fists clench, my nails digging into my palms. It takes everything in me to not turn around.
"Lorraine..."
It's Henry's voice now, beckoning me from the unknown.
"Lorraine..."
I still clench my fists. My breathing quickens and beads of sweat form on my forehead.
"Lorraine..."
The voice isn't a familiar one this time, it's a woman's. I try to resist, but her voice croons my name again and my curiosity gets the better of me. My head turns slowly and part of me is scared of what I might find.
Though, upon seeing the source of the soft voice, I'm no longer afraid.
It's a woman I've never seen before. A complete stranger yet someone I immediately know.
It's my mother. She's standing in front of what looks like a well. Aside from the fact that she looks extremely welcoming, something in me knows she is someone I shouldn't be afraid of. She's everything I imagined. A bit of me, a bit of Charlie, and a bit of her own person entirely. I feel tears form in my eyes.
"Mom?" The woman nods and opens her arms, a smile on her face. In a rush of emotion, I sprint to her and engulf her in a hug. She puts a palm on my hair and wraps her arm around my shoulders tightly. There are so many things I want to ask her, things I want to say. But the emotion is short-lived when I try to pull away. Her grip on me is so tight, almost as if she doesn't intend to let me go. Usually, I would have taken this for the emotions of seeing me for the first time, but something about her handle on me is terrifying.
"Mom?" I question. She says nothing and seems to grab me tighter. "Mom, let go," I order. Still nothing. I turn to the hand on my shoulder, met not with the hand of my mother, but a gloved hand. My blood turns to ice as my eyes look in the direction of the figures head.
No longer am I held to a sweater-clad chest, but to a ruffled costume, dirty and smelling of mildew. I whimper in fear and try to push myself away from the thing. Feeling it back up towards the well with me still in its arms, I begin to panic.
"No! No! Let me go!" When it obviously fails to comply, I become desperate. "Help! Somebody help me!"
Just as we were about to fall down the well, another hand grabs my shoulder and pulls me from the being. I turn to see my savior and am met with...
Me.
I look up at myself, much older. I look similar to the image of my mother but more familiar. "Get out of here!" She yells, pushing me to the door. The clown is behind her, walking to get to me. My counterpart trails behind me to the door.
I get to the exit, throwing it open to escape. Turning, I stick out my hand to grab the other Lorraine's hand and escape with her, but she stays in the basement.
"C'mon!" I yell. She pushes me out of the door, the clown close behind her. "Stick together if you want to live," Her words confuse me, but I have no time to ask questions as she slams the door.
