"It's raining" Charlotte notes, a storm is brewing in the small southern town known as, Holden.
Evan nods at the kitchen table, his red hair pulled back in a wet ponytail. His freckled hands are a blur as he messes with one of his many cameras.
"It reminds me of..." Charlotte pauses, searching for a word. It's on her tongue just like the left over biscuit that's stuck on her shirt. She fumbles to whip it off.
"Summer." Evan replies without looking up.
"Yeah," Charlotte nods, enjoying the safety of the glass that protects her from the outside. It doesn't look frightful, almost peaceful. She watches the trees dance like drunken women.
A blur of something by the tree line cause Charlotte to jump back in fright as thunder shakes the house. Her breath caught in her throat as she bumps onto the kitchen table.
"Whoa." Evan yells, completely dropping his camera to grab Charlotte's shaking arm.
"Lottie," he says softly, thumb rubbing her elbow. "Come back, it's okay no one there" he sighs. Pulling her face towards him, green eyes meeting a watery mirror vision.
"I thought I....I thought I saw...him...or them..." she breathes out in a whisper, as she tries to balance herself on the table, knocking off the camera in the process. A loud crash over took the thunder causing Evan to stand up straighter, he quickly leans down to grab the object on the floor. Not bother to look at it under his arm as he stares at his sister.
"You didn't. It was nothing. Nothing out there" he spoke slowly before cocking his head at the sound of footsteps above them. Charlotte sways slightly, sleeve in her mouth, chewing slowly as she looks back at the window.
Nothing. Nothing but woods.
Looking back at her brother to only see a empty space seems to snap her out of her trance. She sighs, brushing choppy blond hair back.
It won't grow back properly for a few more weeks, enough time for her to look normal for college.
Or feel normal, at-least that's what Grandmother Walken thinks.
Speaking of the devil she strides in like old church woman do. Purse clutched and nose in the air. She checks her wristwatch as Charlotte drinks her now cold mint tea.
Grandmother Walken looks at her with eyes of ice. Melted and frozen over ice, sharp. Evan describes her as a thumpin' gizzard. Or at-least that's what Charlotte cares to remember. The other parts are a bit rude or ugly for her to remember. She's been told not to think about the negatives in her life.
It's hard when you live with them.
"Charlotte, you have an appointment in an hour with Dr.Allen" Grandmother Walken states before snatching the plate of biscuits off the table.
"I thought we said we wouldn't eat our feelings?" She asked Charlotte who looks down at her feet, mouth dry. She feels her throat tighten. This time not from the flaky goodness.
"It was fucking breakfast" Evan shouts threw his room, the next thin wall over. His voice makes Charlotte hide a smile with her chewed sleeve as
Grandmother Walken gasp.
A mumble breath of being uncivilised and disrespectful can be heard but Charlotte ignores it to watch the rain. She likes the way the lighten strikes the dark sky, it shows her what lurking in those dark woods.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Cracks In The Foundation
Mystery / ThrillerCharlotte Foxworthy never guessed that the first time she would step out of her house, after locking herself away from the world, she would end up as a hostage in strange underworld called The Neither. Nor did she think she would end up trusting her...
