The Companions of Time

chapter 32

~ The Account of Hazel~

Grey and I put on our thick wool overcoats and stepped out into the cold.
We quickly made our way to the protection of Mrs. Turnage's closed carriage.

I looked outside the carriage window, meeting a black sky with a bright full moon, and the bright white snow.

To me the snow was beautiful when it was kind, but when the snow whipped and chafed, it wasn't very appealing to me.

The thought of returning to that horrid place, where I was tortured, had one of my friends killed and where the woman I despised slipped from my grasp, overwhelmed my senses, to the point where I felt numb allover.

I couldn't tell if the knot in my stomach was sadness or hate.

Or rather, a great dislike.

Reader, there is a fact about me you should know.

I have never hated anyone in my life.

That reader, is also something you may grasp from this story.

No matter all the wrong someone does, if you are human yourself and not had your humanity taken away from you, it is impossible to hate.
You will see the human left in any horrible person.

Some of the things horrible people do are horrific. You feel as if they are not human at all.

That is the thing.

You want to hate them so deeply, but on examining the person closer you see that they are imperfect, yet they are still human.

You may not love them, but because you see that they are human, you would not want them to die.

The definition of hate is to dislike someone or something with such a passion, that it would not matter to you if they died.

At first, my dearest reader, I thought I hated Elizabeth. As I began to examine her closer, I did see the human in her eventually.

So I could not say that I hated her, I just thought her actions were despicable.

Those despicable actions she took replayed in my head along the cold and bumpy ride to the abandoned mansion where my friend lost his life.

Grey must have seen my troubled face, because he held my hand reassuringly.

I looked at him and gave a sad, yet grateful smile.

"Thank you," I mouthed to him.

He replied by softly kissing me on the forehead, and returning his gaze out his window.

The fifteen minute drive turned to a twenty minute journey, which turned to half an hour.

"We should have already been there," complained Mrs. Turnage "the weather is being so bothersome!"

The rest of the ride was silent after that remark, but now the silence was calming, as I watched the snow dance.
It seemed that soon after I noticed the snow, we had arrived.

I drew in a sharp breath.

We arrived at a place full of nightmares, a place that I woke up screaming about.
We were in that place of torture, deception and murder.

"Ah! I see we have arrived!" Said Mrs. Turnage.

I nodded, and followed my friend and husband out of the carriage.

Grey took my hand in a reassuring hold, and I looked up into his eyes with sorrow.

With all the courage we could muster, Grey and I followed the old woman into the abandoned mansion.