“Rubbish, pure putrid rubbish!”
“Now George don’t be that way, the Richardson’s son is sick
“Rubbish, just yesterday I saw that boy climbing a tree and running through our fields -again, and Paul thinks he can make his sickness a way to get business. Despicable,” Father sneered as he peered out the window to the neighboring estate. Mother walked over gingerly placing her hand a top his shoulder. She gave a thoughtful sigh and reached over to close the curtains, thinking it would help with Father’s mood.
“Calm down George, besides we’re going to see your mother today”
“Rubbish” Father coughed under his sleeve, Mother was not amused. I stood steadfast at the front of the wooden staircase listening as my father spoke of his dislike for my Grandmother.
“Strange woman indeed Meranda! Last time she was here she told our children about the most unholy things. The Woods have you ever should such an atrocious thing.” Father began to storm out of the room his hands were clutched in a furious fist. Mother quickly followed to calm down the rage my father was in. As she walked past me she turned back around and stared, her eyes lost in a daze.
“Oh yes Abagail, do tidy up for Grandmother. Put on your new dresses and tell your sisters to do the same. We will be leaving at noon,” Mother than left up the stairs; her steps were as loud as a whisper. I slowly slumped up the stairs; a silent song trickling in my mind -all was good.
I walked hesitantly to the carriage. I glanced down at my dress as it swayed in the Suns light –surly this will impress Grandmother. Father waltzed near me his hands linked with my mother’s, he seemed calmer, happier, with the small spring in his step –Mother must have calmed him down. Emily and Victoria were right behind them, their eyes averting mine. As my family filed into the carriage to see my dear grandmother I could’ve sworn I felt an icy chill go down my back as I imagined her peaceful little cottage by the creek.
The ride was long and lacked any excitement at all. My sisters were talking about the same boring topics like lace and parasols, and Fathers anger came crawling back as we neared the house of his mother -all was the same.
Grandmothers cottage sat on a rolling hill that overlooked the chapel. The picket fence that lined her house was almost as old and withered as she, but yet when we arrived I never felt more at home.
“Typical,” Father scoffed as he noticed Grandmother was no where to be found and her door was opened. Father was not worried for no one ever stole from the old woman and Grandmother wandered often -he didn’t even have a hint of worry in his black stone cold eyes. Everyone went inside the house but I stayed outside, thinking Grandmother will come and greet her granddaughter; but she never came.
At the second hour of my adventure waiting for Grandmother I noticed a note in the cracks of the floorboards. I took it out and read it carefully noticing the uncanny print that was my Grandmothers:
You need to run they’re coming for you. Leave your family for it will only make it easier for them to find you; run to the city of the high king. The Woods are growing Abagail an I fear it will take you away and drag you into its depths. Listen and do as I say,
there is a map in the drawer that I store my most precious items. If you do not heed my warning they will surly come for you as they did with I. Leave Abigail or…
Questions swirled in my mind but I knew I had to run, because whatever The Woods were they were dangerous and I needed to run.