Under the rays of moonlight stabbing through the canopy of the trees, two girls and a young woman wandered through a forest.
The girls were both very young. Each with auburn hair and brown eyes. They wore ochre yellow sweaters and wellington boots up to their knees. They could have been twins but a years age gap separated the two.
The woman accompanying them was uncannily alike. She had copper hair in a long plait snaking down her back and the same light brown eyes. She had pink wellies on like the girls did.
She was the mother of the girls. She seemed too young to be a mother but upon closer inspection you could make out flecks of grey in her hair and wrinkles on her forehead. She was happy. Or she seemed happy.
People would think her insane taking her daughters out at night. The forest was a dodgy place in the day, cans of beer buried under leaves and litter piling up everywhere.
The only untouched place was the small ginger family's point. It was through a small crack in a hedge that the girls could get to.
The mother of the girls could only just squeeze through. On the outside of the rest of the hedge was a residential house for children to camp in but through the tear in the leaves on the hedge was the most peaceful place on Earth.
A tall bush created a private area in the shape of a square where the family had taken to. There were rose bushes spiralling up a small stone grave. The one of the father.
The girls had never met there dad but every day would sit on a bench by the grave and talk to him.
It didn't sadden the girls. It made them happy because every time they spoke an amazing, magical man would arise from the earth and chat with them.
They would visit there every day after school and at midnight. Until everything changed
