The Other Sider's And The Start of The Dark Days

The Quick Road South

When Charlotte was a little girl she realized she was different from others. At first, her mother Amelia chalked it up to an imaginary friend. She was a lonely child, having no siblings, a mom that worked double shifts, a father who disappeared, and being extremely perceptive.

It did not take long for things to become complicated, however. The imaginary friends did not disappear, they got worse, and every day Amelia heard that a new friend was talking to her. Charlotte would tell her vivid stories that sounded as if stories from other people's lives.

When she got to school, teachers complained that Charlotte wasn't paying attention, that she would talk to the air, how the other kids were afraid of her, and didn't want to talk to her. When Amelia sat down and talked to her daughter about this she had become scared by what Charlotte told her.

Amelia listened as what she described became a horror story about the dead who spoke to Charlotte. That's when the psychiatrist came into the picture, next the pills, and finally Charlotte learned to stop talking altogether about it, shutting down for a period of time.

Present day adult Charlotte had been standing in front of her mirror for fifteen minutes, the wall behind her covered in various fake flowers of different colors, first checking that she looked presentable and finding that she in fact did before zoning out, her thoughts somewhere far away. She was lost in memories of another time and place, taken back to her childhood briefly. Lately she had been doing that a lot, not being sure when it had started.

Charlotte had long, thick sandy colored hair with bangs that she pulled back in a braid, and almond shaped grey eyes that stood out against the dark circles under her eyes that seemed to be perpetual no matter how much sleep she got. Her skin was alabaster in color, a slender nose with a slight curve, and she had a thin frame that hid a slightly feminine shape underneath different sweaters that she wore and slightly too baggy, straight legged trousers.

Her soft, pink lips often quirked in a smile that never quite reached her eyes. She had a certain air of melancholy that seemed to follow her wherever she went, like a shadow that never left her side. Charlotte's eyes were the only thing that betrayed her true feelings, a deep sadness that lurked beneath the surface. She kept her emotions hidden, carefully guarded from most everyone.

Snapping out of the trance that Charlotte had been in, she refocused her eyes, and looked at herself once again in the mirror that sat in the corner next to her upstairs window. Slowly blinking and turning around to leave her flat, she quickly grabbed her purse then keys before heading towards the door.

"Are we heading to work Char?" A voice beside her head asked. Charlotte turned her head, startled by the sudden voice before sighing as she looked at the man with dark brown shaggy hair whose neck was cut. He wore a black long-sleeved fleece shirt, denim jeans, and a pair of banged up work boots. His nose was crooked, presumably broken in two different places, and gaunt cheeks that held no color. He was an older man, probably in his late forties if the harsh lines on his face were any indication.

"Brady, could you—I don't know— make some noise instead of giving me a heart attack?" Charlotte asked sarcastically in agitation.

"Oh yeah because I can totally just knock on your door and let you know I'm here." Brady grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"You know what I meant." Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him. "Instead of just popping into existence right besides me why don't you walk through a door or something?"

"Well where's the fun in that? I'm a ghost." He told her with a smirk as she simply rolled her eyes as she opened her door to leave.

"You're a pain in my ass is what you are." Charlotte murmured, hurriedly descending the narrow stairs of her apartment building before exiting the door and walking briskly down the narrow Dublin sidewalk as she shoved her hands into her heavy coat.