The Lost Prophecy | Year One

Wreathe, Ghosts, and Brunt Hot Chocolate.

The Blackheath Residence stood proudly on the hill overlooking Greenwich Park in London. The house was a two-storied building with arched, double-shuttered windows painted in royal blue and white.

Elena White sat on the porch looking up at her husband Henry, who was trying to hang the snowy wreath covered in pine cones, holly, mistletoe, roses, white gypsophila flowers, and birch twigs on the front door. It was a bit too large for the door but, Henry was adamant about making sure that the wreath went on the front door instead of the fireplace like his wife had suggested. It had taken Henry almost the entire morning and the better part of the afternoon in making it. And now, it was almost sundown, but he was still working on it.

"Why don't you just place it above the fireplace?" Elena asked as she shook her head. "I'm sure it will look just as beautiful inside," she stated as she got up and dabbed his forehead.

Henry shook his head no and picked up the wreath trying to squeeze it within the frame of the door. "Nix wants it here. And I promised her I would make sure this fits there," he replied.

Phoenix was their five-year-old daughter and was currently fast asleep on the couch in their living room. Henry and Phoenix had wandered through the woods near their house that entire morning gathering pine cones and flowers for the wreath. Phoenix insisted that she would help her father make the wreath despite being tired from their long walk in the woods.

Earlier that day, Henry watched his daughter gather all the things they needed to make the wreath and flop down before the fireplace. He knew that there was no way she would change her mind. So, he sat down beside her and taught her how to make it; starting from the foam to creating a loop which he realized was a tad bit wider than he would usually make but, watching her make the loop with utmost dedication and focus he didn't want to hold her back.

Phoenix was beaming with pride as she looked at the wreath before her. For it was worth the scratches she got on her knees and palms from the twigs and string. Elena and Henry, on the other hand, were not pleased when one of the twigs scraped across her palm as blood trickled down the cut. Elena had rushed to the cabinet and pulled out the first aid kit as Henry took Phoenix to the kitchen and gently washed her palm.

Once Elena and Henry had tended to her, Phoenix ran out to the front porch and was examining the door, trying to picture a perfect alignment for the wreath.

"Hurry up! Dad," Phoenix yelled, watching Henry talk to Elena as the wreath laid on the floor, forgotten momentarily.

Elena and Henry, on the other hand, were talking in hushed tones, a hint of worry and panic evident in their voices.

Phoenix watched her parents intently, wondering what could be more important than hanging the wreath on the door. She paced around for a while, as she tried to be as patient as she could. Phoenix was about to call her parents when she heard a rustling sound from the bushes nearby. She hopped down the stairs and ran towards the bushes.

"Hello! Is anyone there?" Phoenix asked in a hushed voice as she tiptoed towards the bush.

The rustling had now stopped. Everything around her grew calm and still. Phoenix made her way across the bush cautiously. She didn't want to scare whatever was hiding in the bushes. For, she had often found many baby rabbits that would get spooked immediately and scatter away as soon as they heard her footsteps.

"What do you think you are doing?" Elena asked with a slight smirk forming across her face. Phoenix nearly jumped away from the bushes looking alarmed.

"I wanted to see what was making the noise," Phoenix answered truthfully.

"If your investigation is complete, come and take a look at the door," Henry said, as he looked at the wreathe that hung loosely on the door. On hearing this, Phoenix ran towards Henry and wrapped her arms around his leg.