Another World

Chapter One

Charlotte Wright sat at her kitchen table, nursing a hot cup of tea between her hands in an attempt to stave off the cold. Winter had begun her cold descent and the house was draughty on the best of days.

Charlotte gazed aimlessly around the kitchen, her eyes skimming over the sink piled with dishes – she promised herself that she would tackle them, just as soon as she found the time. Of late, there was neither time, nor inclination.

Her eyes landed on the stack of envelopes scattered on the counter near the back door, all addressed to either her mother or father. Letters that would never be opened or read by the person they were addressed to.

Charlotte sighed heavily and drained the last dregs of her tea. It had been a year since her parents had passed, and each day was still a continuous struggle. Charlotte was now alone. Utterly and completely alone. She was an only child and, by default, had inherited the house. Charlotte would gladly trade it all to have her parents back.

The continuous echo of silence permeating within the walls was hallow and soul sucking, a constant reminder of what she had lost.

Charlotte stood abruptly and placed her mug in the growing pile in the sink – she would tackle them after her walk. Maybe.

Slipping on her insulated rubber boots, Charlotte grabbed her winter jacket off the coat rack, along with her wool hat and gloves. Now appropriately dressed, Charlotte grabbed her keys and stepped outside.

Snow dusted the plains of the countryside in a thin layer of downy white. There was not enough of the stuff covering the ground yet to give it that Christmas feel, but give it a few weeks and they would be buried under a few feet of snow. And so would begin the arduous task of shovelling. Charlotte groaned at this thought – she hated shovelling!

For now, though, Charlotte could still go for her daily walk. This had been essential in keeping her sane as the days stretched into months. It kept her mind from the grief that threatened to consume her.

She chose the well-worn path that led into the woods that stretched out from the back of the property. Her parents had bought the house shortly after getting married, and Charlotte had grown up exploring these woods. It was filled with childhood memories of fondness and cheerful play; now it had become a sanctuary.

The thick woods offered meagre protection from the cold, but she barely noticed. She trekked onwards, her boots leaving behind footprints. Charlotte glanced up, glimpsing the darkening grey sky between the treetops. It was going to rain or snow soon – either was quite plausible at this time of year.

She briefly debated whether to head back, but shook her head. No, this was her ritual, and she would only turn back once she reached her special spot, she thought stubbornly, turning her collar to the numbing cold.

A blinding flash of lightning in the distance followed by the deep rumble of thunder bought her steps to an abrupt halt. Charlotte glanced upwards once more and then sighed in defeat. It was not wise to be in the woods during a thunder storm, and it was best to head home now.

Turning abruptly, she made her way home. As she exited the woods, her house looming up ahead, Charlotte paused and blinked. For a moment, she had thought there had seen a shimmer in the air close to the house. It was gone now, though, and Charlotte wondered if she had imagined it. Shaking her head, she walked up to the back door, and just as she inserted the key into the lock, a loud crack sounded behind her, reverberating through the air.

Charlotte shrieked, dropping the keys when she had jumped in fright. She closed her eyes tightly, her heart hammering in her chest, and silently reprimanded herself on being so jumpy. She knelt and picked up the fallen keys, and as she stood, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as an eerie feeling washed over her.