Beyond (Book Two of The Whispered Tales)

Chapter 7

Beyond the mirror, Victoria got up at dawn. After being yelled at for being lazy and inept, and after she'd finished her morning chores, she found the perfect excuse to leave that hostile place she could never call home. She told her aunt she needed flour and butter from the grocery shop and left in a hurry, taking with her a wicker basket.

She slowly started to understand what was happening to her. She was certain the mirror had thrown her into another world, a strange world, as the old woman envisioned. She figured that if doubles exist for each person, then there must be a Paul and a woman in black. She went to all the places he might be, asked every merchant that might have had him as an apprentice, but nobody knew anything about him.

The world she entered seemed the same, yet different. The people were grumpy, minding their own business. Those appeared to be older times, at least a century before her time. Poverty and disease crawled at the corner of every street. The romantic feel of the village was gone. Even the sun was weaker, hiding behind heavy clouds.

Her uncle had a little hat shop that could barely provide for their daily necessities. She saw him standing proudly in front of his stand, like a nabob in front of his palaces. She carefully avoided the shop and went on a side street.

Steady paced and head down, Victoria went through the sad little streets and reached the end of the village. The gray house was high on top of the hill, as expected. She went up the hill hastily, not caring about tearing her drab clothes or scratching her knees and elbows until blood started to slowly drip. When she got to the house, thick clouds gathered above her and the wind, like a bad omen, started to blow, carrying around echoes and cracks from the trees that looked like anguished people. Victoria knocked on the door as determined as ever; she got no answer, so she pushed it open. The house was empty. The old woman's welcoming saloon was completely different. The old furniture was covered in sheets, a clear sign that no one had been inside for years. Cobwebs took over every corner and pigeons made the attic into their home, flying all around and inside the house. The floor was covered in dust, bird droppings and feathers, and her footsteps gave a sad echo.

Victoria called out for somebody, anybody that could be living in the house, but to no avail. Outside, the storm was well on its way. Thunders lightened up the room, bringing forth flashbacks from just a couple of days ago, when the house was wonderfully welcoming. When the weird and kind granny was happy to have her grandchildren over. When Paul looked at her the way he did. When she had her aunt, Matilda and her parents, whom she would never see again if she stayed in this strange and cold world. Sadness overwhelmed her. She gave out a great sigh, like the one a child would give after losing his mother's warm and protective touch. She cuddled in a corner and fell asleep.

When the storm was over, Victoria realized in terror that she had been gone for hours. She started running, not caring she bumped into the people of that sad world. As she arrived at the aunt's shabby house, she entered, and, to her horror, she found both of them waiting for her.

'Where have you been, you good for nothing child?' said the aunt in a swish.

'I had to take cover from the rain, aunt,' said the poor girl in a soft voice.

'Liar!' said the uncle, banging his fist on the table. 'You were seen rummaging around the abandoned house on the hill. What were you doing there?'

'I'm sorry,' stuttered Victoria. 'I was looking for mushrooms around the house. I thought a mushroom stew would have been great...'

'What stew?' the aunt yelled. 'Thanks to you we have nothing for dinner tonight. I had so many things on my mind that I couldn't even cook. We had to settle for leftovers. That was your job! But you, lazy and ungrateful as you are, dally about... Mushrooms, she says... Instead of appreciating our concern, you only family's concern...'