1.
(2006)


As the removal truck unloaded our furniture, we were left standing outside the ominous brick estate, Pembrooke Manor...Tom of course thought that this was great, I suppose as any 12 year old boy would have; it came right out of a movie set. I however was not convinced; here we were hundreds of miles away from home and anything remotely familiar all because some long lost grandmother had left us this spooky old house to my father in her will. Dad had insisted that this was going to be a refreshing change for us all and mum had tried to act enthusiastic for his sake.
Us city people needed a change apparently, well give me a house on the beach and I might had agreed but not stuck out in the middle of the English country side with a screaming baby sister in my arms and an annoying little brother, and wait for it... no internet connection!
****
Watching the van pull away the reality of our present situation soon dawned on us. We were to spend tonight all by ourselves in a freezing old manor in which a decrepit old lady met her death. Not exactly a perfect start to our summer holidays.
Oh and that’s another thing, summer, please, what a pathetic excuse for summer it has not stopped raining since them moment we set foot off the plane. Back home its thirty degrees, here I bet it’s at least only ten degrees. Honestly the things we put up with.
“Lauren!” came Tom’s whiny voice pulling me out of my negative somewhat grumpy thoughts. “What” I snapped although it was pretty obvious what he wanted seeing as we were still standing outside with only a thin umbrella over our heads. Right, I thought, the keys, now I do have them...somewhere. As I instinctively reached into my carry bag juggling Grace in my other arm. “Are they there” asked Tom, an edge of panic to his voice, to him I gave no reply, I just passed Grace to him and crossed everything crossable in my body that I hadn’t lost them for good...mum and dad would kill me!
This is when the dread finally kicked in, it was pouring with rain, we were in a foreign country and I had my brother and sister to look after by myself until tomorrow and we had no access to any shelter! Great!
When the misty dusk was settling and we were huddled under the porch of our new home, I caught sight of a flickering light in the distance. Although I told myself not to get my hopes up I could not stop myself from feeling some kind of lift in my spirits. It was getting cold and I knew that when Tom woke he would be hungry. My attention wavered from the light as Grace stirred in my arms but when I glanced back up into the fog I realised that indeed the light had moved closer.So close as such I could now make out the figure of a girl, about my age standing approximately five metres in front of me holding out something within her enclosed fist. She made no attempt to move forward and figuring that she might be able to help us with our predicament I placed Grace gently on the deck praying she wouldn’t wake and moved cautiously towards this girl.
At first glance she seemed rather wild and untamed with long unruly black hair that fell down her back and piercing green eyes that seemed to transport you to another world. However on closer inspection you realised that she had small dimples in each of her cheeks and a frail but nimble looking little body, she couldn’t be any older than fifteen. When she noticed me studying her intently she shyly looked away and put up veil of tumbling black locks between us whilst keeping her arm outstretched. As she uncurled her wrist the object within took the shape of an old ancient key. I gazed curiously at the key expecting an explanation but all I got was a slight turn of the head as she dropped it into my hand. It was cool and smooth like an antique, something that would sell for millions on the annoying antiques road show. As I marvelled at the peculiar object, I felt the girls’ stare on me. When I drew my eyes away from the mysterious object I noticed that she was pointing toward the manor and the doorway. I turned to observe the entry wondering if the key fit the rusty lock and how, if it did, was it possible. I was so caught up in my own thoughts that when I turned back the weird girl was gone and in her place was a crumpled note reading “Caro” in a boyish scrawl. Seeing that, I lifted my eyes from the piece of paper I caught sight of the girl wandering towards the night sky...the moonlight glowing a pathway before her.


2.


Amazingly the key had fit the lock. I had successfully got Grace to sleep and I had left Tom in what was to become the living room listening to his iPod when I wandered outside to the porch. Everything seemed so still and quiet.
It was at that point I really started to become curious about this queer girl who seemed to lack the ability to speak. What did the note mean; “Caro”, and how on earth did she have the key to this old disintegrating manor that had ruled this country side for centuries?
****

As planned the next day mum and dad arrived with overflowing suitcases and hugs all round. There was nothing said about the key situation or the odd girl from the day before, it all seemed like a dream, a fragment of my imagination.
The days went by and we settled into our routine, the furniture was put into place although it all looked quite small and plain in this grand house. We each got to choose our bedrooms which gave room for an argument as Tom and I each wanted the tower room until I scared him off with a horror story about it; I told him the in the olden days it used to be the place of execution and the murdered souls still roam the tower, seeking vengeance. This frightened him off, so much though that he wouldn’t even climb the stairs leading up to it. Therefore claiming me my tower.
****
Of course, as any normal family there were rules to be set in place:
1.No yelling inside because it echoes.
2.Tell either mum or dad if you are going beyond the back garden.
3. Must wear shoes outside
4. Ensure that you aren’t wearing shoes on the carpeted areas
5. No, under any circumstances enter the attic!
Most of those rules were the same as back at home; my parents were fairly quiet people and set in their ways. But the one rule that that baffled me and left me pondering the reason behind it was the one about the attic. Why were they so adamant that we were not to enter the attic? Was there something we weren’t supposed to know?
****
So the week progressed uneventfully. Mum made a few trips to town and came back speaking of all the town gossip and friendly people she had met, while dad got stuck into creating an office for him to work from home in. He chose a dark den in the back of the house that was warm and cosy. He said that it was the perfect inspiration for his new job.
Tom spent most of his time wandering the grounds and bringing home stray dogs he found trekking aimlessly through the fields. He always had always had a soft spot for animals.
I spent my days decorating my room and settling into our new life. I had found a telescope in one of the many spare rooms and dragged it up to my tower. It was positioned by my window that gave a full view towards Willowcombe, our town. It was beautiful, with gable thatched and shingled roofs and winding cobblestone streets.
At that moment, forcing me to stick my head back in doors, a cold gust of wind blew through the open window and with it brought a crumpled piece of paper. I caught it just in time before it flew through the tower door which was standing just ajar. I carried it back to my chair by the window and curled up. I took a deep breath and unrumpled the dirty paper. There in the centre of it were the words that read:
“Meet...clock tower...Midnight”
The note indeed was uncanny and odd but there was something else about it that made it slightly more sinister. When I pulled the previous note out from my pocket that read “Caro” the handwriting matched. It was written by the same person. And that person obviously wanted something from me.


3.

Once I was sure that everyone at home was sound asleep, I quietly pulled on my overcoat, boots, stuffed pillows in my bed and made my way down the creaky stairs toward the front door. Without a glance back I heaved the door open and stepped out into the mystic night.
Hurrying down the lane, I had the sneaking suspicion that someone was following me and although I turned back on countless occasions and saw that nobody was I just could not shake off the sensation.
Everything was eerily quiet, nothing to be heard except the rustling of the leaves in the trees as I made my way to the church. My mind was churning. What or who were ‘Caro’ and what on earth was the connection to this place or person. Another thing that was troubling me was the reference to the church tower, why there of all places and what was it I was meant to do?
I had become so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice the church looming in front of me. I stood out front for about five minutes, wandering whether to go in and in the end decided to make my move. The door swung open easily and I was left standing inside a huge hall. The clock tower is what the note had said but where was that? All I knew is that it was elevated. I went around the rows of wooden benches and found a narrow spiral staircase leading up toward a platform. Seeing as it was my only option I started up, taking it slowly not wanting to slip. When I finally reached the top I looked around for any sight of movement but there was nothing. Maybe the note wasn’t for me maybe it was a coincidence that the two happened to fall into my lap.
Just when I was getting ready to leave I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and what seemed like blissful sighing. In my panic, I ducked behind a supporting beam and prayed that the sounds went away. They didn’t. By this stage I was breathing hard and fast. The blissful sighing continued and then the sound of dripping started. This continued for a few minutes and then nothing. My warm bed was calling and I was about to get up and move when a note fluttered to my feet.
“Lauren”
My breath caught in my throat and I hiccupped as I recognised the same boyish scrawl. That was it I had been found out. I might as come out. I crept warily out of my hiding spot only to see a shadow of a girl with something running down her arm...blood!
****
I stood there awestruck and bewildered. There facing me was the girl from the first day we had arrived. She was just as wild looking and her green cat-like eyes shone in the darkness. She had a melancholy look on her face, like she was in another world. The blood had subsided and in its place were angry red lines etched into her skin. She noticed me looking and nodded. From her pocket she pulled a penknife and demonstrated how she would slash her arm. She tucked the knife away, looked up and smiled. There was no denying it, she was beautiful. But obviously very troubled. As I stared at her gaping arms, a million emotions surrounded me; ‘but why?’ I heard a pencil scrawl and looked up to see her holding out a piece of paper

“because it makes me feel better, I know why I am hurting”
I didn’t realise I had spoken out loud, I looked at her in wonder, only imagining the things that would have happened in her past to drive to such desperate measures. At that moment a wave of realisation swept over me, “you’re Caro, aren’t you, and you’ve been sending me the notes?” Her face broke into a smile that could melt the hardest heart. She nodded as she acknowledged that I had been right. “How come though?” Her hand became busy again. When she was done she held out her notebook for me to read:
“I’ll tell you everything tomorrow”
I nodded in agreement. We stood there awkwardly for a minute or so just staring at each other and taking everything in. Abruptly she tore her eyes away, bobbed her head as a farewell and scurried down the stairs. I was left standing their clutching her notes and staring at the bloodstains drying brown against the timber.


4.

The early light woke me as it spread into my room announcing that morning had arrived for another day. Urrggg I was so tired. After I had returned from the church, I had laid awake for hours, pondering Caro and her past and what she would tell me today. Again I wondered about her ability to speak, she could understand but did not utter a word. Today, would she tell me what happened or write it down?
My mind, a mush from lack of sleep and mysteries surrounding Pembrooke manor, I got up and dragged myself down for breakfast. Tom was already at the table and Grace was on the floor playing with her toys. I mumbled a good morning and made myself a piece of toast. We didn’t speak but I was happy to be alone with my thoughts.
Later that morning, while I was up in the tower soaking up the rare sunny day and trying to get into Wuthering Heights, I heard my mum call out, “Lauren, could you come down sweetie?” Sighing and putting my book down, I wandered idly down the long series of staircases.
When I reached the garden I saw Caro standing by the wall hugging her sleeves over her wrists and my mother trying to be polite and make conversation. When she saw me relief swept over her features and she hurried over to me.
“Honey”, she breathed, “is this girl alright, do you know her, she won’t talk!”
“Don’t worry mum, she’s just shy, it’s ok”.
When I turned back to Caro she had a knowing look on her face, like she knew what went on between my mum and me. I beckoned to her to come in, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good to speak to her. She followed obediently and smiled at my mum one last time before she ducked through the doorway.
When we reached my bedroom, she let go of her sleeves, allowing them to ride up a bit and reveal some of her scars. I tried to remain indifferent but I must say that it was difficult. I sat down and looked at her expectantly, she through back her head let out a bitter laugh, then smirked. “Come on!” I said playfully knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Finally with a sigh she took out her leather notebook and pulled a piece of parchment out. Reluctantly, after great hesitation, she handed it over knowing her fate was now in my hands.
I began to read:
Once upon a time there was a girl. Her parents used to fight a lot and eventually she was put into foster care. In and out, a different family every month. The young girl could never understand why her parents couldn’t keep her like ordinary children and although that never happened she still believed that her parents loved her very much.
One day when she was out playing with her new family, they received a call. It was bad news; the little girl’s mother had died. She was devastated. The new family did everything they could to try and comfort her but she would not stand for anything. She screamed and yelled all day and night, but refused to speak, she refused to eat and stayed up all night staring at the one photograph she had of her mother. In the end the foster family decided that she needed to be with her real family to have a connection.
They sent out letters to her remaining family explaining what had happened and that she needed someone to help her through this tough time. They received lots of responses and in the end settled for her grandmother and two great aunts living in a little village called Willowcombe.
When they explained to the little girl what was going to happen she became even more unhappy than before. She had grown fond of this family and wanted to stay with them however they insisted that she go, they said that she would have a better life and that these ladies had always loved her. The girl wasn’t convinced.
When the time came for the girl to leave, the whole family came down to the train station to say good bye. Her foster parents both told her that they loved her and would always remember her. They gave her sweets and remaindered her five times which stop to get off at.
The train ride was uneventful. The little girl ate her sweets and cried some more. When it became time to get off she smoothed her clothes in the hope to make a good impression so them maybe her aunts would keep her.
She stepped off the platform into a small quaint town. There was no-one left on the platform so she started to make her way down the stairs when she heard her name being called. Startled, she turned and found herself being engulfed into a huge bear hug. When she was released she was staring into the face of a sweet looking old lady. “oh thank goodness you’re here at last, I’m sorry I’m late” since the child still couldn’t bring herself to speak, she smiled gratefully at the old lady and slipped her hand into the wrinkled one of her grandmother. “Well then dearie” she said gently, “why don’t we take you home and have a nice cup of tea while you meet your aunts, they’re so excited to have you here” again the girl smiled gratefully and trailed after the lady, thinking that she may have found herself a family who loved her.
Weeks then months went by and the little girl was happy. She had aunts and a grandmother that loved her and spoiled her, a warm bed at night and hot breakfast every morning without fail. They accepted that the girl wouldn’t talk but made the best of it. One morning, when all had been going well, there was a knock at the door. The girl was up sewing with Grandma Elsie when Auntie June came up looking very alarmed. She motioned to the girl and announced that her father was here to take her. He had bought a place in the village and was willing to let her visit them but he wanted to take her home now.
There were tears but eventually her father got his way and took her home. But he lied. She was allowed to see her beloved great aunts twice but after that he said that she didn’t need that mothering anymore, that she was a lady now and should start acting like it. The girl wept and eventually stole one of her father’s razor blades. She ran it all over her skins but eventually drew it across her wrist. She cut to deep and was rushed to hospital. The girl was admitted to a psychiatric ward for three months. Occasionally her aunts came to visit her, telling her that they loved her so much and that they would write and they did until her father found the letters and forbid them. When the girl finally came home her father announced that he had been offered a job overseas and that he would be leaving. He told her that she could come with her or she could stay home in Willowcombe by herself. She chose to stay in the town she had come to love. The next day he left.
At the beginning her father came home every two weeks but slowly the lengths of time grew further apart. The girl didn’t mind, she visited her aunts and grandmother they grew old. She was home by herself for months at a time however she grew to love her own company.
As the years went on her aunts and grandmother grew old. They no longer cooked meals for her and when she was thirteen her first aunt died from a heart attack. Things were pretty morbid after that. Especially when nine months later her second aunt died from sadness of losing her sister.
So now there was only one aunt, the eldest. The girl nursed her to her death; often hearing stories about her son who lived in Australia and his family, two gorgeous girls and a young son. The girl was with her to the old ladies last breath...and then... everything changed...


5.

By the time I finished reading Caro’s story I had tears blurring my vision. When I glanced up I saw Caro sitting up very straight on my bed, rocking backwards and forwards staring at me with her intent emerald eyes. I was speechless, after reading Caro’s story I felt that I knew her so much better, the poor girl had had such an awful life and even now she was living by herself with no family close by. I reached out to put my hand over her but she retracted immediately and held it tightly in her lap. “Sorry” I offered. But she only shrugged and pursed her lips. I had ruined the moment. We stared at each other a moment longer before she gathered her bag up and headed towards the door. “Can I see you again?” I asked a little desperately. She merely shrugged and stalked out of the room, her head held high.
Later that afternoon, after re-reading Caro’s story over and over again I decided that I needed to consult my father about these long lost aunts and if I had any cousins. I wandered down stairs, preparing what I was going to say. When I reached the den, I lifted my hand up to the door to knock, when I heard and tired “come in Lauren”. It was like he knew what I wanted.
Standing in his office waiting for him to say something, I took in all the mementos. My father had never seemed a sentimental man but here the shelves were crowded with pictures of Tom, Grace and I from the time we were babies.
“So, Lauren, what is it that you were after, hmm?”
“Well”, I began nervously, “I was wondering about the old ladies, you know that used to live here...”.
“There’s a book in the library about it, off you go now, I have work to do, sorry”.
As I meandered through the halls that would hopefully take me to the library, I took in the portraits covering the walls from bottom to top. They stared at me with their knowing eyes, having seen the families moved in and out for the past centuries. The dramas that had occurred . They held long lost secrets in their eyes, secrets that I would never know.
When I reached the library, I was overwhelmed; there were books from top to bottom. Where to start?
There were countless titles about the town and the history of it and even a few on Pembrooke manor, but nothing stood out. I continued skimming the bookcases, clambering up old ladders to get to the higher shelves and continually running my finger along the fragile spines of the old books, collecting a cloud of dust on my fingertip. Just when I was about to give up, I came across an old battered copy of Pembrooke a History. I retrieved the book blew off the dust and settled into an old arm chair ready to commence my reading. Just as I was about to open the book to the first page when I heard approaching footsteps.
I tucked the book behind me and tried to look casual (as if that was going to happen, here I was in a library with no book) as my mother walked in. She had a pensive look on her face, like something was troubling her. I smiled at her as she walked in wishing that she would go away and leave me to my reading, but no.
“Lauren”, she began carefully, “you know that girl who came over today,”
“yeah”, I answered carefully, wishing for her to go and find something else to do.
“Well she didn’t seem like the kind of girl who you would, you know, become friends with”.
“She’s fine mum; honestly, she’s had a hard life and is just a little shy that’s all...”
“Well I’ll let you get back to your reading, I’m going into town for a little bit, could you look after your sister?”
“Yes mum”
****
Later that afternoon, after my mum had returned, I finally snuggled up in my big arm chair in the tower and settled down to my book. The first page I opened to had a map of the manor and the grounds. It hadn’t changed at all considering the amount of years it had been here. The next page I turned to had a floor plan each of the levels, from the basement right up to the attic. It showed hidden rooms of which I was sure to explore. Just as I was about to turn the page, I noticed words scripted in with heavy ink just above the attic diagram. I pulled the book up close to my eyes and squinted, trying to make out the words but they were too small and blotchy. With an exasperated sigh, I set down my book and bounded down the stairs to my father’s office.

“Dad, please tell me you have a magnifying glass” I pleaded. He reached into his draw and pulled out a very expensive looking one.
“Be careful with it” I sent him a grateful smile and raced back up to my room. Once I had calmed down, I gathered up the book and turned to that page sucking in a deep breath I placed the magnifying glass over the script; it read;
“This is place of danger where the unimaginable comes true and the real world is lost...”
My mind backtracked to the weird attic rule that none of us understood. Was this somehow connected? I put my head back down to study the notation. Something was familiar about it. As I lowered the glass to it, it hit me. I knew this writing; it was Caro’s, it matched the other notes.
It was late, but I had to find Caro. I ran out of the house at full speed dodging questions from my family. I ran the whole way to the village centre when it occurred to me that I had no idea where Caro lived. I ducked into the local pub and asked some old guy. “Up on the hill” was the response I got but it was better than nothing. Standing in the town centre I got a good view of the surrounding areas, to my left was a hill and too my right was another hill except on that one stood my home, Pembrooke manor. So I headed off to the left, my eyes fixated on the tip of a roof I could just make out peeking over the hill.
When I reached the top of the hill I could see down below a little house nestled in the forest. Sucking a deep breath I made my way to the door and without time for a moment’s hesitation I knocked loud and clear.
Just when I was beginning to think that I had the wrong house, the door edged open a crack. Peeking from behind I could make out one focused green eye.
“Caro, it’s me, Lauren, could I come in? I have something really important to tell you”. The door creaked open a tiny bit more and a hand gestured for me to come in.


6.

The house was bright and warm hence the roaring fire. When Caro came back into the room she was holding her leather notebook out toward me. As I peered over to see what she had written I noticed that she had fresh pulsing lines on her wrist. I tried to ignore the fact. On the notebook she had written:
“Why are you here? Is everything ok? What do you want from me?
I nodded and said “I need to ask you something, I found something that you had written today”. Was it my imagination or did I see a flicker of fear dart through her eyes. Well if I did it was gone as quickly as it came. She nodded and turned on her heal, disappearing round the corner. I stayed where I was my feet planted to the ground until Caro returned wearing a frustrated look on her face. She stared me up and down and then pushed me from behind toward the stairwell. She led me up the stairs and stopped at a door. From her hand motions she told me that this...was her bedroom.
The door flung open and I gaped at what I saw. Her room was not like anything else I had seen. It was an attic that had been turned into an Aladdin’s cave. Hanging from the ceiling was lanterns. There was a huge canopy bed and she had a huge Moroccan tent in the far corner. Of course there were the ordinary things like a desk and bookshelf. As I observed the room I discovered to my horror a carving block of knives sitting on her bedside table. When she caught me staring she walked over and stood in front of them while staring down angrily at me. I merely shrugged and hoisted myself up to her bed. Eventually she resigned herself to the fact that I was staying and sat down opposite me. With Caro staring fixedly at me I started to explain what I had found.
****
By the end of my tale Caro was shaking uncontrollably. I was at a loss as of what to do. Something I had said had obviously meant something to her. In the end I went down and fixed her a hot cup of tea and left it by her bedside, only hoping she wouldn’t start slicing herself to shreds.
When I opened the back door, preparing to go home, I was shocked that sun was peeking up on the horizon. I hadn’t realised in the least that I had spent the entire night with her. I didn’t even feel tired.
The village was deserted. Everyone tucked up in their warm beds as they should be. I picked up speed as I neared Pembrooke hoping that mum wasn’t up baking or dad hadn’t spent the night working.
When I slipped through the door the manor was eerily quiet. I snuck up to my bedroom and pulled on my pyjamas hopping into bed and waiting for sleep to come and take me away to a place of peace. But I couldn’t sleep, it was morning and soon my parents would wake and everything would be happening as normal. I was worried about Caro, I wondered what had a struck something so deep in her. I knew that she was sensitive about the subject of Pembrooke but she had never acted like that before. Urggg, I might as well get up. With my mind going in circles like that sleep was a distant dream.
The sun was completely up when I came downstairs. I was so so tired but there was no way I could sleep now, not with everyone up. Mum noticed straight away, “didn’t you sleep last night Lauren?”
“no mum”, I replied irritably, “I didn’t”. To that she had no come back and left me to finish my breakfast solo.
For the rest of the morning wondered around the house like a zombie. Picking up little tasks and then leaving them when they became too complicated. All I wanted to do was go and see Caro but for some reason I was scared to. By about mid day I finally gave up and retired to my room. As soon as I flopped onto the bed I was asleep, prisoner in deep sleep...
****
I was awoken when I felt a weight on the foot of my bed. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was that the afternoon sun was streaming in, I couldn’t have slept that long. The next thing was the shadow a figure sitting on the end of my bed. I blinked profusely and pushed myself up, right into the face of Caro.
We stared at each other for a moment before I actually registered that she was here sitting at the end of my bed. “Did mum let you up here?” I asked. She shook her head and walked to my window. She gestured to the vine leading up. “You climbed it?” I asked incredulously. She nodded like it was no big deal. Then she started scribbling on her notebook. I waited patiently trying to flatten my bed head hair without it looking obvious. I must have failed because when she glanced over she let out a nonchalant snort. I scowled and after a few more moments she held out the notebook.
“Sorry about the other night, there’s a lot of history in that attic that I have been involved it, it just took me by surprise”.
I nodded reluctantly and handed back the notebook. I busied myself with making my bed and Caro stood there hugging her sleeves. Sometimes I just wished she would talk. “Is there anything else?” I asked, more sharply than I intended. When I saw her face, a look of surprise and hurt I felt bad. “Sorry” I apologised, “I didn’t mean it like that”. Again she nodded but her hand became busy. I waited, studying her. What an unusual creature she was. When she was done she held out the book almost shyly.
“You’re my only friend; please don’t go to the attic”
Smiling at her, I nodded, hoping that it hid my confusion. But still, the fact that she had called me her friend was something big. I couldn’t help it I went over and put my arms around her. She felt stiff and thin when I held her but slowly I could feel her relaxing into me. We clung to each other for a while but then she pulled away breaking the connection we had just made. She packed up her thing and headed towards the window. Suddenly, I couldn’t help it. I called out to her “Caro, haven’t you ever had any other friends” she nodded and smiled sadly remembering. Then she held out her papers. It had already been written;
“Yes but that was before...”

7.

For the next couple of days I saw nothing of Caro and I missed her. I was restless, I kept expecting her to come through m window or my mother to call frantically that she was here. In the end my mum got sick of my endless pacing and sent me into the village for some bread, personally I think that she sent me just to get me out of the house.
On my way I thought about everything that had happened since I left Australia three weeks ago. Things that I would never had imagined in my wildest dreams. Firstly Caro, I think, although it’s sad to say, is my best friend. But I want her to tell me more about the attic. Whats so bad about it and why won’t mum or Caro tell me what’s happened, they just tell that I can’t go there. It’s not fair!
I had become so entwined in my own thoughts that I didn’t even realise when I reached town and walked straight through it, heading directly for Caro’s house. I stared up wondering whether she was home and reminded myself that all mum wanted me to do was get bread. I was about to turn back when I glimpsed two figures by the window. Who could that be I wondered? She said that her father never came home anymore, hadn’t for years and years. When I glanced up again to the upstairs window I saw Caro watching me curiously. I looked away quickly, embarrassed that it seemed like I was spying on her. Maybe I’m going crazy, there was probably no-one there at all. All of a sudden the door flung open and there stood Caro. Hair blowing in the wind, dressed in black she looked like some kind of goddess. She beckoned me inside and as I followed her through the doorway, the smell of cookies wafted around me “mmm, smells good” I commented, “I would never have thought of you as the cookie type” she shrugged and told me through words that her aunts and grandmother used to bake so on her good days she did too. When I had finished she proudly showed me her healing scars and wrote that she hadn’t cut in two days. Apparently this was a huge achievement so I congratulated her, countering if we could make it three. Although her smile wavered, she shrugged and cleaned up my mess. “Well”, I announced as I pushed back my chair, “I’d better get going, I promise mum I’d get some bread for her”
“Could I come too? I’d like that I think...”
She wrote. “Sure I answered, genuinely surprised but glad for her company. The silence was comfortable as we set off. I asked her a few questions but only got a nod and shake of the head as a reply. Nothing more was expected. The question I really wanted to ask was about the attic, hoping that our declared friendship would allow her shed some light on the subject. I didn’t want it to seem out of the blue but the subject of Pembrooke never came up.
Once inside the bakery, she started scribbling on the notebook while I bought the bread and when we stepped outside she showed me.
“Could I come over now, to your place?”
I was taken aback I have to say but I nodded and told her that mum would be happy for her to stay for dinner if she wanted to. Caro shrugged and tucked her notebook away, demonstrating that our conversation was over.
Although Caro wasn’t the person mum was hoping to see she hid her surprise well when I turned up with her.
After all the polite greetings (which nobody meant) were over Caro charged up to my room knocking over everything thing in her way including our new dog, the latest addition to the menagerie that Tom had created.
When she reached my room she wasted no time finding what she wanted. From under my mattress she pulled Pembrooke a History. How she knew it was there I’ll never know. She flopped down on my chair and opened straight to the page of the floor plans. I held my breath; secretly that was what I had been hoping for, some excuse to bring up the attic. Shaking her head slightly she scribbled something on her notebook and grabbed my hand pulling me through the doorway and up into the unknown.
Through spiral stairways she pulled me and round bends, she never stopped, she didn’t even puff. Many times I tried to ask her where she was taking me but all she offered was a shake of her head. Her grip on my wrist was like iron, she was not going to let go no matter what happened. Round more bends she pulled me through cracks in walls until finally before us stood an old oak door, a streak of light seeping from underneath it.
Clutching my chest and panting I leaned over. Caro waited impatiently with only the slightest touch of red on her cheeks. When I finally regained my posture I stood up and looked her right in the eyes. “Right Caro”, I said “where the hell are we?” without any slight indifference she pulled out her notepad and showed me what she had written earlier;
“The attic, don’t ever go in there”


8.

It was around midnight but I couldn’t sleep. My mind had been going a million miles an hour, rethinking Caro’s visit and wondering why everyone was so intent on keeping me away from the attic. I wondered whether the whole purpose of asking to come over was to take me to the attic just to prove that it was not somewhere I wanted to go. Well if that was it, it did the contrary. I was only more curious now that I had seen the attic and had a vague idea of how to get there.
In the end I got up and slipped on my slippers. I rifled through my draws looking for a torch and sighed discontentedly when I found that there wasn’t one. So, I tiptoed down to my fathers den and dug through his draws until I found one. Sneaking back up to the tower I pushed open my window and laid the flashlight down. Sticking my head outside, I turned to face the direction of Caro’s house. “I’m sorry” I whispered into the breeze, letting it carry my words right to her...
****
My bare feet dragged reluctantly up the dusty wooden stairs. I stifled in a sneeze, not daring to wake my oblivious family, all probably fast asleep. I squinted blindly into the endless darkness. “One leg at a time” I said, reminding myself to walk steadily. “There... at last” I thought, happily pleased with myself.
I was standing at the top of the narrow staircase with Caro’s words ringing in my head, well so far there was nothing bad about it, I hadn’t died or anything...
I had managed to make it this far. Blurringly, I made out the shape of the old oak attic door. Just like it was when Caro had brought me here, big and threatening. The only difference was the light. When I had come here before there was a beam of light seeping from under the doorway. ‘Oh well’ I thought to myself, I had probably just imagined it, I said out loud, trying to shake off the jittery feeling which was engulfing me.
I took a deep breath and lifted my trembling hand to the door, and, with a huge surge of energy I turned the handle, letting the unknown wash over me like a thick mist.
I stepped inside and stared incredulously at my surroundings. Where was I? According to Caro and I guess my mothers rule the attic was something like a life threatening journey in which nobody embarked on.
I slowly tiptoed cautiously; dodging as many spider webs as possible and attempting (somewhat unsuccessfully) to determine which direction would shed the most light and allow me to explore this intriguing space.
Moving slowly, I was aware of the blackness that enclosed me. I glanced around, a little disorientated, and then my eyes rested on what appeared to be an old dusty chest which was visible only by a small ray of golden light seeping through a small gap in the roof.
The more I stared at this peculiar chest, the more I felt captivated by it. While I clumsily stumbled towards it, I felt entranced by its aura. I moved closer. A sharp pain began to travel through my body with each step. It lingered in my legs as a stood before the chest.
Despite the pain I was feeling, I astoundingly noticed that the chest itself had begun moving closer to me. “How can this be possible?” I thought, my heart pounding hard in my chest.
I closed my eyes, took several deep breaths and reassured myself that this was probably not happening at all – it was all just a figment of my imagination. But the pain felt very real. Damn Caro for making me curious! When I opened my eyes the pain had intensified, and the chest now sat before me! My head started to spin. What was going on?!!
Fear engulfed me. Despite my distress, I turned and ran, trying to find a way out, but instead of reaching the oak door, I ran directly into a wall, bounced back from the impact, and landed on the floor. Frustrated, I collected myself and ran in the opposite direction, desperately hoping to find something safe – anything! All I found was the continually looming darkness which as though it was immersing me. I was overwhelmed.
****
The next thing I knew, I was wakened by unfamiliar sounds. I lifted my head. My body was stiff and sore, although the pain in my legs had subsided. Trying to identify my surroundings, I caught sight of a filtered shaft of light passing through one of the beams above. I felt a glimmer of hope rise within me. This was not just a ray of light; it was a ray of life to me.
I pulled myself up and moved towards the direction of the light beam. I reached out, almost trying to grasp it with my hand, and closed my fist tightly around its glow. As if by magic, warmth and strength was instantly generated through my weary body. I did not want to take my hand away from this source of shining light, but I knew that empowered by its strength, I could find a way out of this nightmarish enclosure.
Suddenly, while considering my next move, new light shafts began illuminating the gloomy space, infiltrating the threatening blackness. One, two, three.... then six! I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. I could now move effortlessly, as if walking on air. I was drawn to the light, I could not turn away. My insides were floating. Only a sense of peace and good prevailed. The feeling was glorious and I didn’t want it to end.
I remained still, basking in the light – my whole body felt reawakened and alive. The golden beams widened and glowed before me. Multiple shafts of light emerged towards the corner of the room and I was spellbound.
Before I could restrain myself, or consider my actions, I was taking giant leaps towards the golden glow. Approaching it I could feel the heat rush into me. It was pleasantly nurturing and secure, and I noticed that it was focused directly towards the small chest I had stumbled across earlier.
Realising this I reached towards the trunk, and at this very moment the light and heat became so intense that if felt as though I was suddenly being suffocated. How could this joyous feeling become so threatening? Before I knew it, I felt drawn into a vacuum, hauled into the light, pulled into the unknown. My fight to stay grounded was useless; the power was greater than me.
The light had been extinguished....... The warmth had disappeared.........
******
I felt the surface beneath me, cold and dewy. My body had melted into the earthy smell of ground below me. I slowly became aware of my surroundings. They seemed somehow familiar, but yet quite different.
Rain began to fall, and this awakened me further. I tried to focus my vision. I knew this garden, it was my own. I knew this house, it was my home. Looking through the windows I recognised this family – were these my parents? They looked so much older. Was this my little brother he looked older than me and what about Grace, was she this you lady that stood before me?
Huddled on my front lawn, I slowly and shockingly came to the realisation that I had been a captive of the light for longer than I could imagine...Caro, had been right...


The end...


Captive of the light
Part 2


1.
(2012)
Caro


She glanced over at Pembrooke, as she did every other morning, glowing in the sunlight of daybreak, hiding the secret that no-one ever spoke of. She had known it was going to happen. It was bound to. That manor was cursed.
She’d never forget what it felt like, the heat of it. Like you can’t breathe and you’re trapped. There’s no way out. Only the chest is there and the closer you get to it the more it hurts but you can’t help it. You have to go, you have to give in, and you have no choice. You become captive of the light.
****
Going through her morning rituals she thought long and hard about Lauren. She had been her best and only friend. It had been six years and a week ago since she ‘disappeared’, the same time that she herself had been captive. But Caro had to face it, she wasn’t coming back. Lauren was gone forever and there was nothing that she could do to change it.
****
Staring at herself in the mirror she saw a stranger she didn’t recognise. This was the 14 year old version of herself and she had specifically stayed that way just in case Lauren returned. So she would recognise her. She still had long dark tangled locks and immortal green eyes. She kept fresh scars on her wrist so that Lauren couldn’t mistake her with anyone else, it was only Caro who did that and Lauren knew it.
Holding up one piece of her unruly ash black tresses she looked disdainfully at it. It had never been cut since she was born and it was nearing her ankles. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and without a second though pulled out her penknife and hacked it at her skull.
Long tumbling locks fell around her, cascading to the floor. Well she couldn’t stop now could she? She madly hacked away at the rest of her head watching her curls fall to the floor around her.
Half an hour later she was finished. The girl staring back at her looked foreign. She still had the eyes but her head was full of uneven chunks of hair. She shrugged to her reflection and left the mane of hair in the bathroom.
She ran down the stairs enjoying the feeling of air running through her hair, like she could fly. She felt light and released. She figured since Lauren wasn’t coming back there was no reason to remain the same for fear she wouldn’t be recognised.
Sitting down at her breakfast table she felt a need to get out of the house. Like something was calling her. She thought that it was just claustrophobia but nevertheless she got her bag, penknife and notebook and headed out.
Just stepping out the door alone cause all sorts of up rage. It was no secret that she was known as the town loony. The abandoned girl who grew up alone, always had gaping wrists, cuts on her neck and who didn’t speak. Oh the reputations you earn in small villages...
By the time she made it down her driveway she had more people notice her than she had since she’d lived in Willowcombe. The postman, gardener, the weird man who rides his horses around her property all gave her huge stares with their mouths hanging open before she silenced them with one of her famous glares. She had lived by herself for more than half her life and she wasn’t used to people giving her attention.
Although just getting out of the house made her feel better she still felt the urge to go further. Once she was in the heart of the village there was no stopping the wide eyes and hidden whispers that were surrounding her. She held her head high and didn’t answer anyone who asked her anything.

Up until a few months ago she hadn’t uttered a word since her mother died but for some reason when she last ran into Laurens little sister Grace at the shops she had felt the urge to apologise. Of course all she got from Grace was a stony glower but she had come to expect that. Ever since Lauren ‘disappeared’ the Middleton’s had always treated her like she was responsible. Even though Grace was a baby when it happened, she had obviously watched her mother and learnt her spiteful ways.
Although Caro continued walking down the cobblestone streets she really didn’t know where she was going to end up. Her father had always said to trust your head and ignore her body. There were a lot of thing her father used to say. But then he never came back after one business trip. He was always away from long stints of time but he had been gone for seven years now and she had given up hope. Sometimes he wondered if he was alive.
She had become so caught up in her own messed up mind that she didn’t even realise where her legs had taken her. There in front of her stood Pembrooke manor looking as grand as ever. She thought back to the last time she had been here. It was the day that she had taken Lauren up to the attic and shown her where it was. That was her first mistake she made. She should never have shown Lauren, if she hadn’t maybe she wouldn’t have found it and would be here now. She didn’t blame the Middleton’s; it was her fault that Lauren wasn’t here. She shouldn’t have even told Lauren about the attic, she should never have brought it up.
But, there no use dwelling on the past as her auntie June used to say. And she was right it only made it worse. Quickly she wiped a tear away; she couldn’t remember the last time she wept. Probably when her mother died but crying was for babies... and Lauren, Lauren could get away with anything. All of a sudden, out of the blue came a yell; “Hey! You! Don’t move!”
With a sigh Caro stood, knowing that Mrs. Middleton had seen her. This was not going to be pleasant.
One hour later Caro was still at Pembrooke manor being reprimanded by Mrs. Middleton.
“You have no right to come and trespass on this land after what you’ve done to this family” were her last words before she stalked off with a defiant turn of her head, disappearing through entrance and leaving Caro standing outside in the grounds.
Since in the no one was left garden to yell at her, she decided to have a look around. Caro had not been here since she was fourteen yet there were no visible changes. She wandered round to the side of the house. There above her stood Laurens tower. How many times had she climbed up there? Sometimes when she was asleep, just to watch her and then those times when Caro didn’t feel like facing Laurens mother and she’d clamber up just to talk or write to her. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill over to her cheeks. She wiped them quickly, wondering why she was crying so much.
There seemed like only one solution. Caro whipped her penknife out of her pocket and slashed it over her wrist. Blood seeped over the edges and she watched in wonder thinking about how messed up she was to be cutting herself at twenty years old when a voice interrupted her.
“That was always interesting habit...don’t you think you could have thought up another one other than slicing yourself to shreds?
She whirled around and found herself face to face with young man, Laurens brother.


2.
Lauren
I felt the surface beneath me, cold and dewy. My body had melted into the earthy smell of ground below me. I slowly became aware of my surroundings. They seemed somehow familiar, but yet quite different.
Rain began to fall, and this awakened me further. I tried to focus my vision. I knew this garden, it was my own. I knew this house, it was my home. Looking through the windows I recognised this family – were these my parents? They looked so much older. Was this my little brother he looked more grown up than me and what about Grace, was she this young lady that stood before me?
Huddled on my front lawn, I slowly and shockingly came to the realisation that I had been a captive of the light for longer than I could imagine...Caro, had been right...


****

Caro
There in front of her stood the young boy she had seen all those years ago, roaming the fields and collecting wild animals. He had been a sweet child. But she had never paid much attention to him; she never really paid much attention to anyone.
“Do you still not speak”, his voice came, invading her thoughts.
She continued to stare and then shrugged.
“Guess not” he concluded.
They stared each other for a moment longer before he said
“I don’t blame you know, no one really does, it’s just that they want someone to blame and you seem most vulnerable”
She nodded considering and stood up. “Thankyou” she murmured so quietly, Tom wasn’t even sure if he heard her right but before he could question her about it, with a flick of her head she turned away and began to walk towards the gates. Just as she was about to pass through she heard,
“you know, I like her hair better long”

****

As she made her way back home, Caro tried to figure out what had brought her to Pembrooke in the first place. She hadn’t been there for at least seven years.
The Middleton's had always believed it was her fault. Somehow they had found out that she cut and for some reason that meant that Lauren had ‘died’.
Back at her cottage Caro made herself a cup of tea and clambered upstairs to her bathroom, prepared to clean up the mess she had made earlier. Picking up her silk strands of hair and piling them in the bin, she thought of it as turning another page in her life, finishing another chapter. Each foster home was one; chapter two was living with her aunts. Number three was psychiatric ward, four, was living by herself, five was meeting Lauren, six was after Lauren disappeared, and seven was now opening up before her. Who knows what it would hold...

Lauren
I pushed up off the ground. I felt stiff but strangely enough, well rested. I stretched and forced myself up into a standing position. Pembrooke manor. That’s where I was. It hadn’t changed. Everything seemed the same except for the people inside. The last thing I had remembered was a pain shooting through my leg and cursing Caro for ever making me curious, and then all went black.
From looking inside it became obvious that I had been gone for a large space of time.
‘No!’ I thought angrily, ‘get a grip Lauren, that’s not possible’ and yet there in front of me was visible evidence of my family, in years ahead.
I needed to find Caro and fast; she would know what to do.
Quickly, I stretched my aching legs and set into a sprint out of the grounds. Heading toward town, I remembered all the back ways, in which Caro and I used to sneak to each other’s houses when we were meant to be in bed.
I tried to keep my head down while I raced through the town. If I was right and not going completely crazy, then I should be a lot older than I looked and I had probably been missing for months, years, who knows?
I earned a few looks and whispers as raced through but I think that I was too quick for my image to register. Later on they would find out, and all would be turned upside down. But for the moment my mission was to get to Caro’s house, I needed her to help me.
I was out of breath by the time I finally arrived. For however long I had been wherever I had been the house had not changed much. A few extra vines growing on the walls and a spot of mould here and there but nothing other than that. I wondered if Caro had changed, if she even remembered me. Well there was only one way to find out. I lifted my fist and hammered on the door...


2.
Caro

Caro glanced up in surprise when she heard a knock on her door. The last time anyone had visited her was when Lauren was still here and even then she never knocked, she just walked in or demanded to be let in.
She had just finished in the bathroom when the knock came and she wondered idly down her stairs toward the door, still carrying the bin in her hand. With curiosity mounting she opened the door, right into the face of her beloved Lauren...
She could not believe her eyes; there in front of her stood her fourteen year old friend. She had stains on her clothes and looked as wild as ever. Blond wavy hair blowing in the wind and deep caramel eyes searching her face for any sign of recognition.
“Caro” Lauren whimpered and with that Caro pulled her into her arms, holding her tight, never wanting to let go.

Lauren
The door flung open. I held my breath but there she was, my Caro. Her hair had been cut short and she still torn up wrists but she was my friend.
I couldn’t help it “Caro” I whimpered” and that was that for the second time since I’ve known her she engulfed me in a huge bear hug.
I didn’t want to let go, I was afraid I wouldn’t get her back, but we had to. We stepped back from each other and stared, catching up on the time we had been apart. I fingered her wrists and cropped hair and she stroked my cheek and crooned.
Eventually we stepped in from the doorway. I sat down silently at her table wanting to ask if she has spoken but not wanting to ruin the moment. She handed me a biscuit that she had once told me her aunt taught her recipe to. She looked so much older and in the end I asked, “How long?” she reached for her notebook and scribbled;
Too long... six years...and a week...
I gasped in horror and then gasped again as I realised she knew exactly what I’d been through. “You knew” I said more to myself than to her but nevertheless she nodded. We sat in silence for a little while and then when she took my plate to the sink and had her back to me I heard her first words she had ever spoken to me’
“Your family thinks that you’re dead, that you committed suicide or were murdered not sure which theory they’re up to now”
Before I could register this information I had to take in the sweetness of her voice. It was high pitched like a soprano but soft and gentle at the same time. I gaped at her in wonder before I realised the meaning of the words she had spoken,
“They think I’m dddead?” I stuttered. Caro rolled her eyes at me and wrote that with me gone for six years that that’s the conclusion one usually comes to. Good old Caro hadn’t changed a bit.
Caro explained to me in written word and by speaking just a little bit that at first they thought that it was suicide but then they didn’t find my body so they thought I had been kidnapped. That theory hung around for a while but then they thought that somebody had murdered me and for some reason they blamed her for it.
I was aghast, I mean I can’t say I expected any less but so many theories and none of them correct? It was a wonder and the only thing that was certain was that that manor was cursed. Caro had said so herself. She was still keeping something from me though, the same something that she had never old me when we were both fourteen.

Caro

Lauren was here and Caro couldn’t believe it. After all this time resigning herself to the fact the Lauren wasn’t coming back, she was right here sitting in her house eating her biscuits. Caro had spoken to Lauren, like actually spoken and although it had taken a lot to do the look of pleasure that had come across Laurens features had made it worth it.
But she knew that Lauren knew she wasn’t telling her something. Even though they had only known each other a few weeks before she went ‘missing’ but in that time they had formed a connection. Caro knew that in the end Lauren would ask and she got to the point where she figured she might as well just tell her herself. But not yet. So they sat there together, Lauren pondering what Caro had told her about her parents’ theories and Caro thinking about how dangerous the manor was becoming. It was no secret that it was cursed but more people were falling into the trap. Grace, Laurens little sister, what was she, nine? Well soon she would become curious about what happened to her sister and the secrets lurking in Pembrooke manor. No, Caro decided this must not go on.
Of course it was to be suspected, but Lauren brought up the subject of returning to
“I have to see my parents and Tom and Grace” she pleaded “I can’t let them keep thinking that I’m dead, it’s simply not fair”. While Caro agreed with that but she liked the idea of keeping Lauren all to herself.
“How are we going to do it though, I mean we can’t just turn up and say surprise!!!? I’m back!”
Caro nodded and agreement again and thought about what she did when it happened and she came back, she would write it out for Lauren tonight, and then see if maybe they could put it into action.
“I’m...going...bed” she choked out. Lauren looked up somewhat amused
“ok ‘night” smiled Lauren which earned her a scowl from Caro...well it was better than nothing.
Instead of going to sleep like she had told Lauren, she pulled out her notepad and began to write;
When I was thirteen years old and had been living with my father for a short space of time, I began to feel that I needed to return to my aunts’ house. One night, I snuck out and wandered over to Pembrooke manor. When I arrived there I had no idea what I was doing, I couldn’t remember the journey there or why I was here. Anyways, I unlocked the door with my spare key (the one I gave you on our first night) and went inside. It was eerily quiet. My aunts had just died over the space of the one year and nobody had come to anything about the house. I was the first one inside for months. I wondered up the stairs to the tower that had been my room too. I pushed the window open and looked out into the night air, unlike you, I had no one to apologise to. So I merely breathed in the night air and tiptoed out of the room.
I think I knew that from that night on everything was going to change, I just didn’t realise how drastically. Unlike you I hadn’t been up the difficult route to the attic so I found out how tricky it really was on that night. Anyway, when I finally made it to the attic I was amazed at how far it was, I mean you would think that it was a simple corridor and narrow staircase that took you straight up but no, nothing is normal at Pembrooke manor.
You would have thought that the amount of difficulty and jittery feelings would have been enough to make me turn back but no, I was more determined than ever. I truly felt that there was something that I need to uncover hidden beneath the depths of Pembrooke. I believe I first got the feelin g that something needed uncovering when I initially walked past the portraits of the deceased on my way to the library. Did you ever get that feeling Lauren, that they knew more about you than even you knew of yourself? Well, I certainly did. I was an angry child as you very well know and those portraits gave me a sense of comfort. It sounds stupid but it’s true.
Anyways, I am rambling on. I had heard rumours about the manor being haunted and cursed but I thought that was all rubbish, I mean we’re living in the twenty first century, things like that simply don’t happen, or so I thought.
It was weird you know, standing in front of that old oak door I felt a sense of calm prevail. Mistakenly I took this as a good sign and pushed open the door without a second thought...
As soon as the door slammed behind me I knew I had made a disastrous mistake. My aunts words echoing in my mind; “This is place of danger where the unimaginable comes true and the real world is lost...” this is what they all had told me so many times but I had never paid much attention or thought twice about to where they were referring. Now I understood...
As soon as I stepped into the attic the blackness engulfed me. It circulated around me like a storm. I tried to crawl away but it followed, I yelled and screamed but it muffled me. In the end I passed out. When I awoke the blackness had lifted and in its place was an old chest. As soon as I locked eyes with it I had to get closer. It drew me in. But every step I took sent shooting pain up my leg. Still, I could not help it, I was entranced by it. When I reached it I could barely walk without screaming, it was torture. And there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to pull away but it only pained me more. In the end I began fiddling with the lock in the hope that if I opened it would release me. I remember thinking that this wasn’t happening, trying to tell myself that it was a dream that stuff like this simply didn’t happen like this. It was no use. Eventually I pried the lock open and saw a ball of light in the corner. As I reached out to it, trying to grab it I felt warm. I pulled the light out in my hand and it seared through my arm, quickly I retracted. The warmth was gone, replaced by a burning on my wrist. As I inspected the damage I noticed that other shafts of light had begun to seep through the cracks I the timber. I couldn’t figure out if this was a good thing or a bad one. Disorientated I stumbled toward them and raised my hands. The light filtered through me and warmed me. As more beams appeared the warmth intensified and the feeling of burning soon returned. I felt as though I was being sucked up. I couldn’t do anything. It kept pulling and pulling, sucking me further and further until I let go. I closed my eyes and said my goodbyes, and then it went black.
****
I awoke nestled in some shrub in the bottom of the front garden. I felt weary, like I had taken a sleeping pill or something. It was autumn and the leaves were falling, several fell on me waking me further. I sat up quickly, making my head spin and tried to remember what had happened. I remembered pain and light and the feeling of not being able to hold on. Getting over myself, I pushed up and stared at the building towering over me. Pembrooke manor, where I had spent my happiest years. All of a sudden a whirl wind of memories overwhelmed me. My aunts and grandmother who had died, my dad who was never home, my dead mother, my wrists and the foster homes I had been through. I let out a deep breath. Up ahead, I made out the shape of old wrought iron gates. Figuring it was my best option I made my way up.
Stumbling along the lane that would bring me to the little village of Willowcombe, I earned some weird looks from people. There was a lot of whispering round the place and I got the feeling they were whispering about me. Having enough of the attention, I slipped into the back streets. I took everything in, recognition tingling in me. Just at that moment I recall a dirty old paper flying into me. I didn’t think much of it until I turned it over and staring back at me was my own face.
I remember becoming quite confused, I mean, I hadn't been gone, long, just overnight I thought. However when I examined the dates I noticed that it had been issued six years ago. There must have been some sort of mistake made, that couldn’t happen although after what I had been through nothing surprised me.
I snuck around the side of a cottage, where it gave me full view of village. At first nothing seemed out of place until I saw people used to know, the ones that avoided me, the ones that gave me sorrowful looks and the ones that were actually somewhat nice to me, all looking years older. How could this have happened, was it true? Had I really been missing for six whole years? I didn’t feel any different. I decided that if it were true I would have to stay hidden. I snuck round the back way o my house, the same route I used to use when I snuck to my aunts at night when my father’s forbid it.
Making my way along the cobblestone streets, I tried to come up with any way possible that I indeed had been missing for six whole years, that would make me now twenty. Did I look any different? Who would know?
When I reached my home, my father was not home but that was surprise. I let myself in and scoured the kitchen for any sign of my being gone. I did find one thing that confirmed my understanding. There was a in my father’s handwriting it read;
Please come home Caro, I miss you...I know I haven’t been the best father but I can change, really I can...
It broke my heart, but it was dated from back six years ago. My breathing quickened as I rushed up the stairs, heading for the bathroom. If six years truly had passed then I was bound to look different, wasn’t I? Well apparently not. Staring at back at me in the mirror was my fourteen year old self. By this point I was entirely confused. Had I not changed? There was only one thing that I could do.
Up in my parents’ bedroom I opened my mother’s wardrobe and withdrew a scarf and shawl. I wrapped the scarf around my head and draped the shawl over my shoulders.. I pulled out an old pair of sunglasses that my mother used to wear and looked satisfactory at myself in the mirror, yes it would be alright as a disguise, hardly anyone wandered the backstreets.
As I set off I kept my head down and re-thought through my plan. I needed to find out if I was delusional or this had really happening. Oh Lauren, I was scared of what I would find. On my way to Pembrooke I held my breath the whole time but nobody seemed to notice me. When I finally arrived I began to feel nervous. My last encounter with Pembrooke was not exactly a positive one. Nevertheless I pushed the door open and made my way to the library. I wandered through the corridor of portraits and finally made it there. I knew exactly what I was looking for. I climbed the ladder and pulled out from behind a row of books exactly what I wanted. Pembrooke a history.
Yes, it was precisely what I was looking for. I carried up the stairs to the tower, in a way I still consider it my room. I stared reading on page five hundred and forty three. I cannot remember the exact words but I do remember it making mention to Pembrooke manor being cursed. It was called captive of the light, the attic entices you into it and keeps you hostage there for many years. If it had been in any other circumstances I would have said that there was no way that that could be true, it belonged in fairytales but seeing the predicament I was in I had no reason to doubt it. I think I actually believed it.
Since reading that I felt the urge to warn people about it, but how could I? No one would believe me, no definitely not. So instead I flicked to the second page and stared at the floor plans. Suddenly the idea came to me. In my old draws I rifled round until I found a pen and then ever so carefully, I wrote in my smallest writing just above the picture of the attic; “This is place of danger where the unimaginable comes true and the real world is lost...” but you knew that already, you found it and you ignored it, trust you Lauren...
Now you’re probably thinking how on earth I came back to normal life in the village, well the thing is my father never got the police involved. He figured that I had run away because of his dreadful parenting and that eventually I would come back. Sure he put posters up around the village but nobody ever really took much notice. I was the town crazy and no one wanted anything to do with us. I simply blended in, some days I showed glimpses of myself and then gradually as the days and weeks went on I showed more of myself right up until I could walk down the street in broad day light and no one even thought twice about it.
Now Lauren, let me assure you, I did not write this so that you would feel sorry for me, god there is nothing more I hate and you know that. I wrote this to tell you the things I should have told you many many years ago and to help you understand that something must be done about Pembrooke manor, it just cannot go on!
Caro.


3.
Lauren
It was only when the light of morning seeped through the thin curtains I realised that had been awake all night. There were so many thoughts buzzing round in my head sleep was a distant harbour. What had really happened? And why why why would Caro not tell me! I love her but she really is exasperating sometimes. The longer I was awake the need to see my family intensified.
As I sat there pondering my thoughts I heard the sound of Caro’s bare feet coming down the stairs. Finally! I got myself ready to confront t her about everything but as soon as she came around the corner my anger disappeared. How could I be mad at her when I didn’t know how much time we would have together? I was about to greet her brightly but was interrupted mid-thought when from behind her back she pulled out an envelope. This time without hesitation Caro dropped it into the lap of me. It reminded me of the time in the tower when Caro had handed over her past. I looked at her curiously and tore open the letter. Just as I was about to start reading Caro shoved her notebook under my nose.
Going out, be back soon, don’t go anywhere...please...
I nodded obediently as she slammed the behind her announcing her exit. As I set down to read I got a tingling feeling of anticipation, what was it she was going o tell me through her boyish scrawl, what mysteries would be uncovered, and what would she confide in me, the things that have haunted her for many years?


Caro
She couldn’t believe what she had just given Lauren to read. But it was for the better she promised herself. Caro had always had the habit of walking with her head down, ever since she had been captive of the light and she had never run into anyone before. That’s why she was so surprised when she walked straight into Tom. She couldn’t speak to him, that’s too hard, instead she tried for a smile but even that came out lob sided. He didn’t seem to notice, just laughed and smiled and continued on his way.
Now that she was actually in the town, Caro had no idea what she intended to do. Nobody felt comfortable with her roaming the streets and they didn’t try to hide it either. It was odd, hadn't he seen her, everyone tended to steer clear of her, or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see her. No Caro strictly reminded herself she would not get caught up in that!
What to do? Well the one thing she knew is that she couldn’t go back home while Lauren was reading about what had happened to her. Well there was only one place to go. Turning around and heading right towards Pembrooke. She knew it was not her place to go back but she couldn’t help it.
However she was disappointed to find that the iron gates had been chained shut. She sighed at defeat but did not make any effort to move until a voice startled her.
“And what may I ask are you doing?” the voice was not unkind, merely curious and she recognised it straight away. As she expected she saw Tom standing in front of her. She shrugged. They stared at each other for a moment longer. He looked so much like Lauren, and she wandered whether she should tell him right then and there but eventually she decided against it. It was unfair and plus he would probably result to her being a mentally challenged person.
As they stood standing opposite each other Caro could feel her face getting hot, she never blushed, what was going on. To save herself further embarrassment wrote down that she had to go do other things in town and with that she fled.
****
When she returned home she was shocked to find that she had been gone for five hours and that Lauren was asleep on the couch, the letter she had written slipping through her fingers. Caro sighed, she was tempted to wake Lauren and consult her about what she thought about the letter but the she thought, “Let her sleep”. She would just simply have to wait.
While she was bustling round in the kitchen, trying to keep her mind off tom Lauren came into the room clutching the letter. At first they just stared at each other and the Lauren said almost timidly, “is it true?” Caro nodded, unsure what to say or even write.
“Its just not possible, stuff like that just doesn’t happen” Caro shrugged.
“That’s what I thought too” she whispered.
“we have to tell my family though, you know, like what if it happen again to Grace or something?
Caro had run out of energy and she slumped over the sink.
“ok” she barely whispered, we’ll go tomorrow. Lauren nodded but looked nervous. Although she said nothing about it Caro knew, it was harder for Lauren, Caro didn’t have a family to magically appear to after all these years. It was not going to be easy...at all, what had happened was merely unexplainable. It was a scary thought to how they would react. But really, as Caro thought through the other options she found that there weren’t really any others, at least that Lauren would agree to, she was adamant that her family must know that she was alive. Maybe they would have to lie about her age just say that she didn’t look any older. Yes that would be what they would do it was the only way.

Lauren

I was just about to drift off to sleep when Caro came barging through the door. She shook me on the shoulders and I opened m eyes to meet her sparkling green ones. “What?” I mumbled grumpily. She grinned at my irritability and held out her notebook;
“I have the perfect plan...”
“Yeah, what?” I snapped;
“We tell your parents that I found you, so they no longer hate me and pretend that you truly are twenty but it just doesn’t look like that”
“mmm, ok whatever you say” I responded absently minded. Caro rolled her emerald eyes in frustration. “you don’t understand!” she finally exploded.
This got my attention; my eyes flew open in surprise, mirrored by her stunned expression. I think she shocked herself as much as she did me. On the rare occasions she had spoken it had barely been a whisper. “sorry” she murmured and then coughed. I shrugged. I wanted to feel mad at her but I couldn’t, she was trying so hard for me and I had nothing in return.
“its a good idea” I relented and it made her smile. “we’ll go tomorrow, huh”? I asked. She nodded eagerly but I think I saw a flicker of regret pass through her eyes, who knows maybe I was imagining it. “I think I’m going to go to sleep” I announced, curling up on the lounge. Caro nodded and leant over me just looking. Then she lowered her lips to my forehead and gave me the softest gentlest kiss.
“That’s what mothers do isn’t it” she murmured.

****

Caro

The next morning tensions were running high between Caro and Lauren. They were both nervous about their visit to Pembrooke manor. There were so many what ifs. What if they kicked Caro out before they got to tell them? What if they didn’t believe them and then told them to go away. What if Lauren was never allowed to see Caro again? Oh the possibilities were endless, Caro hadn't slept a wink all night.
In the end there was no putting it off. Together they must do this and together and they shall. As they set off, walking through the dirty back streets of the town they said nothing, not even Lauren, no contact was made apart from her soundlessly slipping her hand into Caro’s just as they approached Pembrooke. Caro squeezed it back and slipped through the gates with Lauren in tow.
When they reached the ominous entryway the reality of their situation began to sink in. They were about to march inside and tell the Middleton's that they had a cursed how and they’re daughter had been “captive of the light” for six years. Ah well this was going to be fun.
After standing outside the door for about ten minutes, wondering if she was crazy enough to knock, Lauren made up her mind for her. She popped out from around the corner and hammered on the door before disappearing again, leaving Caro to face her family. As footsteps approached the door, Caro sucked in her breath and came face to face with a little girl, Grace Middleton.


4.
Caro
The little girls intent blue eyes studied Caro with great interest. “Who is it sweetie?” came the unmistakable voice of Mrs. Middleton. “some girl, with green eyes” oh god Grace! That is the worst thing to say to her. Nevertheless Mrs. Middleton came to the door looking unimpressed. Caro could tell that she was about to close the door when she said hoarsely;
“ please Mrs. Middleton, I have something I think you’d like to see”
She looked at me with such immense curiosity that I thought I just might have a chance.
“Well?” she countered, with a wry smile I gestured to Lauren from around the corner. She came, as calm as ever and stood in front of her mother...

Lauren
My mother had aged. She had more creases in her forehead and larger frown lines. But she was still my mother. A million emotions fluttered over her features; relief, regret, sadness, belief, confuse, longing, happiness.
I tried for a smile but I didn’t quite make it and my knees buckled instead. I didn’t realise how much I had missed until this moment. Mum walked towards me with her arms outstretched and I met her half way. Her hands flittered as if to check that I am real. She pulled me in a huge bear hug and held so tight I thought I was going to crack my bones. After she had finally let go she held me at arm’s length and hollered, “Tom!! Thomas! William! Gracie!!” I braced myself for the onslaught of mixed emotions and tears. It was Tom who arrived at the door first. He took only look and me and burst into tears, my brother, crying. He engulfed me into another bear hug. How old must he be now? Eighteen almost. He was strong and musclier, he felt so different from the rare occasions that I used to hug him when we were young.
Next out the door was my dad. He looked so much older. There was no hugging, just a sharp clip on the back, but I had come to expect that.
Next from him came Graces peeking face from behind Toms leg.
“Lauren” her little voice chimed and I held out my arms. She came running at me full speed and I caught her just in time. Sisterly instinct. All the time during the reunion I had noticed my mum looking at Caro but I didn’t think twice of it until she sneered;
“you, you were the one keeping my Lauren, you!”
“NO mum!” I yelled in Caro’s defence, “she wasn’t”.
That was when my quiet father finally stepped in. With one arm around my mother he suggested very calmly that we all go inside and discuss the situation.
Seated in the old living room of Pembrooke with my moms stony look on her face reminded me of the times I got busted for sneaking Caro in the house.
“so”, she began, “what is the truth?” I cleared my throat and began my rehearsed speech that I had ran over a million times with Caro the night before.
“ I was taken by this man and dumped in another town”, even to me it sounded corny. I faked a choked sob in my throat, cue for Caro to take over.
“ please Mrs. Middleton, I only found her the other day when I was wondering round the forest, my aunts used to do that.” I smiled internally when I saw my mother’s chagrin expression fading. In the end all that was left were her pursed lips and hiccupping shoulders as she reached for Caro.
“I’m so sorry Caro”
Caro shrugged and looked down at her hands. “you don’t look any older” joked Tom trying to lighten the mood, everyone else attempted to smile and succeeded apart from Caro and I who exchanged worried glances. No one seemed to notice. We all sat there awkwardly until Grace untangled herself from dad and came and at on my lap. She had grown so much. She had deep blue eyes like bottomless pools and tumbling golden ringlets. I didn’t think that she would remember me but she did, I guess she was three when it happened but still. Caro sat their looking teary and eventually smiled tightly.
“I better be getting back home” she mumbled without making eye contact with anyone.
My dad nodded and Grace scurried over to hug her. Caro looked somewhat surprised but wrapped her thin and scarred arms around her nevertheless.
“Well then”, announced my mother, “Tom will walk you out”. Caro looked almost as surprised as my brother but neither protested. I wondered if they were keeping something from me but decided against it, Caro wasn’t that type. Caro stood up and made her way for the door, followed by tom who sent our mother death glares.

Caro
As she was about to walk through the gates of Pembrooke knowing that her time with Lauren was no more, she heard her name being called. As she turned she saw that Tom was running after her. When he reached Caro he was out of breath. She waited expectantly for his words but he didn’t say anything. She really hoped that she didn’t have to say something first but she didn’t. He bent down and kissed her softly on the cheek, “thankyou...”
****
Later that night, when Caro couldn’t sleep, she snuck over to Pembrooke. She walked around to Laurens tower and slung her foot on the vine. She tested it, all strong. As she hoisted herself up she could feel the vines giving way . Although it startled her she thought nothing of it until when she was by Laurens window the whole lattice of vines collapsed and she went tumbling down to the ground with a loud thud.
All of a sudden Laurens tower lights switched on and her window flew open. As her bedridden head lent out Caro saw her gasp at what she saw.
“Did you fall!?” she asked frantically already pulling on her nightgown. Caro watched her shadow fly down the stairs and out the front door until she was right there next to her. Her hands fluttered nervously over Caro and rested on her leg.
“What were you coming up to tell me anyway?” she asked.
Caro pulled out her notebook, she had already written it down;
Something needs to be done about this mansion. Grace is going to become curious one day and then the same is going to happen to her. I have an idea though, you probably won’t like it but I shall tell you anyway;
Ok here it is, burn Pembrooke, I know it sounds harsh but if you think about it there is no other way. Nothing else can destroy it. I know that you are going to flip when you first read this but please don’t get mad. I truly do think that it is for the better, please believe that...
Caro.....
When Lauren looked up Caro could see the alarm in her eyes, “you would do that?” she asked aghast. Caro shrugged considering and then nodded. Lauren was silent for a time and then bobbed her head reluctantly. “I guess so” she murmured and closed her eyes.
“But what about my family?” she asked abruptly her wild eyes roaming Caro’s face. “we’ll figure something out” Caro replied only hoping that it was true.
Later that night after she had bid Lauren goodnight, Caro laid awake for hours. Lauren had agreed to destroy Pembrooke but that only problem was Caro wasn’t sure if she actually wanted to do it. She had spent her happiest years there and her aunts would be so disappointed. But it was for the best.
the next problem was how they were going to get the whole family out of the house. That’s she would have to discuss with Lauren. And the third problem was where the Middleton's would live. That they hadn't thought about.
The next day while Caro was writing a list of things to do there was a knock on the door and then it swung open. Standing in front of her was Lauren. She had large dark rings under her eyes and looked as though she hadn't slept in days.
“what are you doing?” she asked with genuine curiosity. Caro showed her the list she had been working on. “oh a list of stuff we have to do in preparation” she answered herself. Caro nodded.
“I thought...” she began huskily, “that you should maybe suggest to your parents that they go and have a picnic or something while I light the house.” Looking somewhat bemused Lauren agreed to Caro’s statement. ‘It all seems so horrible, don’t you think” she murmured. Again Caro didn’t know what to say so in the end she shrugged again. What was there to say?
After Lauren left Caro wandered aimlessly into the wood she used to escape to. It was silent apart from the tweeting of the birds. Bliss. The floor of the forest was scattered with trodden leaves and algae. To any normal person it would have looked like a mess but to Caro it was magical. She knew her way around like the back of her hand. Pushing past ferns and leaves she made her way to her favourite brook at the centre of the forest. It was fresh water and sometimes on hot summer days she would strip off and soak up the cool water. Although it was the middle of autumn she couldn’t resist. She pulled of her shirt and pants and then proceeded to yank off her shoes and socks.
There studying herself in the pools reflection she saw a thin pale woman. She looked feral. Her green eyes were wild in her head and her hair had grown back in untamed curls jacketing her head.
The water was cool to the touch and it jerked her out of her thoughts. She lowered herself into the stream and let it take her away. She drifted down the torrent blocking everything out of her mind. Usually the brook cleared her head but not today. She could not stop thinking about Pembrooke and Lauren and what would happen afterwards. After a endless battle in her mind she opened her eyes to the glaring daylight and shivered violently, the brook was not working its magic.

****
After putting her dry clothes on she wandered back toward the village, her mind set on seeing someone from the Middleton family to confirm their picnic. But that did not happen. The village seemed almost deserted. Strange. In the end she turned around and headed home. Once inside she got the fright of her life. There in her sitting room was Lauren , her arm covered in blood.


5.

Caro
Caro couldn’t help it, she let out a small squeak. “don’t worry” laughed Lauren, “I just tripped and fell except I couldn’t tell mum cause she is paranoid that that “man” is trying to hurt me” Caro relaxed. She didn’t know expected had happened to her but it wasn’t that. She even tried for a laugh. And failed. Lauren smiled grimly and then said; “I talked to mum about the picnic, she was all for it so we’re going tomorrow” Caro nodded but really her thoughts were buzzing, how would she light the house, matches or is that too primitive? As she pondered she didn’t notice Lauren leaving, she left a note on the coffee table;
I guess I will see you tomorrow maybe? Oh and I’ll make sure I smuggle anything really love out haha funny...

Later that night Caro made her way up to bed. She was so tired, from doing nothing. Caro wanted to much to drift to the place of dreams but she just couldn’t. Sleep wouldn’t come and take her hostage. She watched the flickering lights of the town, each slowly turning off as their residents made their way to bed. She got up out of bed and looked out her window towards Pembrooke manor standing bold and beautiful in the mystic night.
She was just about to turn back to bed when she saw two figures appear by the window of Pembrooke. She knew exactly where they were standing. It was one of the staircases that led up to the attic. Caro’s breath caught in her throat. She knew she shouldn’t be spying but she had to see. Squinting she made out the shape of a smaller figure, Grace and a taller figure with long hair, Lauren.
Lauren had her arms wrapped around Grace and seemed to be pulling her backwards from around the waist. Grace appeared to be fighting her and squirming. In the end it looked like Lauren won the fight thank god and carried Grace down the stairs.
Caro breathed a sigh of relief and tiptoed back to bed letting her dreams wash over her like a cool breeze...
The next morning as the birds chirped Caro thought about what she was actually going to do today and to tell the blunt truth, she was going to burn Pembrooke. It was all planned. As Lauren and her family passed she would excuse herself and run to knock on Caro’s door. Caro would collect the matches, put on dark clothes and make her way to the manor. There when she was sure that nobody was watching, she would strike the matches and light one blade of grass that entwined with the vine. She would repeat that every five metres and then watch her beloved mansions go up in flames, it was simple.
The knock came while Caro was getting dressed. She knew what she had to do. When she finished she gathered up her matches, tucking them securely into her hidden pocket and made her way into the town. For once she was glad that nobody paid any attention to her. It made her inconspicuous. When she reached Pembrooke she started getting butterflies in her stomach, no scap that, they were more like birds. Staring at the manor she thought about all the memories she had shared here. It was her safe harbour and now she was about to obliterate it. She sent a silent sorry up to her aunts and then walked around the side. With a deep breath and one last look, she struck the match with trembling fingers and watched to memories burn away into nothingness.


6.
Lauren


The picnic was actually really nice. I was surprised. I thought that dad would be all stiff and mum would complain and Tom and Grace would fight but they didn’t. We actually functioned like a normal family, it was weird. I would have probably have been more at ease if I was oblivious to what Caro was currently doing. I felt so guilty! Everything my parent s owned would be burned. All of Tom’s music collection and all of Graces toys. Shame engulfed me and my head started to spin. ‘Get a grip’ I told myself sternly.
It was Grace who noticed the burning first. There was smoke wafting from the turrets and my tower and I felt a sob blocking my throat. At first everybody thought that she was joking but when Tom climbed up the hill that gave a full view of Pembrooke he came back screaming that it was on fire. At first I think that mum and dad were in shock and not sure whether to believe him or not until he started tearing down the hill. Sharing alarmed looks mum and dad followed after him while as calmly as I could I began to pack up the picnic. I was so engulfed in my own head that looked down startled when Grace tugged on my skirt. “Everything is going to be alright isn’t it Lauren?”
As I looked into her innocent wide I eyes I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the horrible half truth. I bent down to her level and wrapped my arms around her, “we’ll still have each other”
When I arrived at Pembrooke I was out of breath. I had carried the picnic basket and nine year old Grace. I could not believe what I saw. I mean I think that it had registered within my mind that Caro was going to burn the place I think that I just didn’t imagine actually viewing it, they weren’t have meant to have come home yet, it was good that Caro did it as quickly as she did. When mum saw us she ran up, tears clouding her vision. She kept repeating the same thing. How could anyone be so horrible (well her own daughter) and it’s so lucky we weren’t inside when it happened. I nodded and smiled and wiped fake tears away. The whole village was here watching the manor go up in flames and somehow Caro has managed to go home, get changed and slip back into the crowd surrounding our home. She came up behind me and gave me such a fright as she whispered in my ear that we’d done it. She seemed ecstatic but I didn’t feel so good. People go to jail for these kinds of things. Suddenly it didn’t seem as heroic as we may have thought. I must have swayed on my feet because Caro caught me and steadied me before I fell. I looked worriedly at her but she smiled wickedly. For the slightest second I supposed she could be evil. That thought was swiftly pushed to the side as Toms arms wrapped around me. I held him tight liking his security but he broke off quickly when a weeping Grace came up to us. We were the big siblings, we had to keep it together. Together we crooned and comforted her and until her wracking body slowed and she collapsed in my arms.
The fire had been extinguished within four hours and the demolished and burnt house was left in flaking pieces. By then the crowds had subsided and it was just mum, dad, tom, grace and me left standing in front of our once grand manor. The unspoken questions floated around all of us. Where were we going to go? Was happened to all our things? Where were we going to sleep? Would we continue living in England? The unknown was daunting to say the least. We had lost everything and I cannot express how bad I felt. It was my fault dad hadn't said a word to anyone since he saw the flames; it was my fault that my mother s eyes had been permanently leaking tears; I was at fault about graces forever trembling bottom lip and I was to be held for toms drooping shoulders. His shoulders never drooped. Just at that moment when I seemed like the world was coming to an end a little old lady from the village wandered over. She looked very frail, like she was fading into oblivion. My mother sighed as more tears rolled down her face at the thought of another person we didn’t really know offering her “deepest sympathies”. As she approached my brother made his way toward her. Words were exchanged between them and after and few minuted later he came back up to us. Tom brought the news that the elderly lady had offered them a room for as long as they needed, apparently she had a granny flat out back. Mum walked over and conversed with the lady whose name happened to be Maggi. In the end dad agreed seeing as it was our only choice. Slowly we followed her. She said nothing but Grace took a liking to her and slipped her little hand into her wrinkled prune hand. Maggi held on tight and murmured softly about the softness of a little girls skin. Her house was way out in the fields on the opposite side of the town to Caro. The little house that Maggi led us to was shingled and stone. A classic English cottage. It already had a fire burning brightly inside which to anyone else would have been a welcoming gesture but to us was a nightmare. The accommodation had three small bedrooms, a kitchen, bathroom and small living area. It was neat and tidy and smelled like it had just been cleaned. Maggi showed us around hastily and then left us each to our own telling us that there was food in the fridge. We were all so tired and traumatised that it didn’t occur to us until much later that she seemed to know what had happened.
That night despite our tiredness we were up tossing and turning all night. It was only Grace who slept and even she slept most fitfully. I know because I shared a room with her. I couldn’t believe what I had done. It all seemed surreal up until now. I had successfully made us homeless in one day. Great!
The next morning there was hardly any conversation. We were all trying to figure out if it had been real but then why else were we here. I thought about going to see Caro and then realised with a jolt that I really had no desire at all to see her. I hate to say it but I was mad at her. I don’t know why that was so hard for me to say.
After a breakfast of stale toast and jam dad went out of town to try and find something for us to do and somewhere to live. It kept him busy and I guess it was his way of coping. Mum went over to Maggi to thank her for her hospitality and beg her to let us stay a few more nights. That left the three of us in the house alone. Grace fiddled with her skirt and played tea party with some of the china she had found in the cupboards. Tom paced backwards and forwards muttering to himself and I sat in the chair looking dismally out the window. It was raining which was no surprise and there was almost no activity outside. In the end I couldn’t stand it. I got up and pulled on my coat. I told tom I was going to Caro’s when really that was the last place I wanted to be. Wandering the pathways I had come to know so well I heard snippets of gossip about us. News travels extremely quickly in small villages, especially when most of the residents turn up on our doorstep to see the potential gossip. I travelled idly around not sure exactly where I was headed until I ended up outside the burnt frame of Pembrooke manor.
It looked like it came out of a movie set. Standing on top of a hill towering over the land. Even though I was thoroughly aware that what I was doing was potentially harmful, I made my way inside what was left of the inside structure. The staircase to my tower had officially fallen and the roof of my room had caved in and was missing several beams. Being inside the once bustling Pembrooke brought back so many memories, the first night we spent here, the night Caro came over for the first time, the night she took me to the attic, the night I went to the attic, the time she fell out of my window only a few weeks ago. They reminiscences brought tears to m eyes which in quickly wiped away. It was only the feel of the tiniest raindrop that made me consider going back home, well, Maggi’s cottage. With I sigh I turned and retraced my footsteps out into the real world.
****
That night the rain came down in torrents that night. That night I slept but my dreams were wild. I dreamt that Caro and I switched bodies and then were trying to escape the fire but then Grace was stuck in the attic and I had to go and save her. I woke up in a pool of sweat. My sheet were knotted around me and my breath was shaky. I closed my eyes to calm myself and took several deep breaths. I padded out into the kitchen for a drink and while I was there I glanced out the window. I could see past the rain all the way to Caro’s house which still had lights on. I wondered what she was doing, feeling accountable I hoped.
Dad had come home late last night stinking of whiskey. We all tried to ignore that fact. Once again tom began his pacing and mum went over to Maggi’s. When dad finally arose he went out again, this time offering no explanation. That left grace and I. I felt sorry for her so I suggested that we go into town. Considering there was nothing else to do we fetched our umbrellas and set off. We had not set place to go but grace wanted to go and look at the dolls shop. In the end I bought her one just because I felt so dreadful. Grace was so excited about the doll named Claire that nothing else seemed to matter.
When we arrived home mum was back reading a book she had obviously borrowed and tom was out in the fields somewhere. Grace bounded up to mum as soon as we walked through the door and proudly showed off Claire. Mum did her best to look mildly interested but failed miserably. Unable to watch anymore I went into my makeshift bedroom and lay down on the bed. I was taken away b my dreams from the minute I put my head down and the only thing that aroused me was the quiet talk between mum and dad. I crept and quietly as I could out of bed to my doorway. I could see the shadow of my parents, dad hunched over in his seat and mum crying into her hands. My dad kept repeating the same words over and over again. “Australia is our home, we have family there, it’s the safest place for us to go” and with every time mum kept crying harder. I couldn’t believe what I had heard. Move back to Australia, surely not, England was out home, Willowcombe was our home. But then was it? I mean I had lived most of my life in Australia, and our family was there. Maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea. At that moment I heard a footstep and I sucked my breath in thinking that I have been caught. But I hadn't. Across the hall I caught sight of tom, he too watching from his bedroom doorway. He caught my eyes and out his finger to his lips. Well obviously I was going to be quiet. We both stood there listening, the same dialogue being replayed over and over again. In the my father gave up, promising to talk about it tomorrow. I flattened myself behind my door as dad walked past. He stunk of whiskey and his speak had been slurred. Thing were definitely changing.
****
Tom and I knew something was wrong when mum and dad sat us down three days after that night. It was called a family meeting. We were all waiting expectantly although I think even then I knew what they were about to say. Finally dad came out with it. His words were;
“I think, well your mother and I think, that it would be best if we move back home-”
“but this is our home” I unhelpfully interjected.
“We have family and friends in Australia and a house still sitting there waiting for us...we can always come back and visit England and Pembrooke.” None of us were convinced tom put up a fight, grace started crying into Claire’s hair and I effectively gave my parents the silent treatment, for about five minutes. There was no point. The decision had been taken out our hands and in a way although I hate to admit it they were right. Living in England was hard. Firstly we had no place to live, no family, no money apart from in the ban, grace couldn’t go on being home schooled forever and my parents wanted me to go to college and that would have to happen in Australia. Yes my parents were correct.
I didn’t tell Caro we were moving. I didn’t want to, I know it was mean but I couldn’t bring myself to face her just yet. The news travelled fast and I was sure that Caro had found out.
I didn’t see my family much in the weeks leading up to us leaving. Tom was always out with his friends he had made throughout the six years. Dad was always in one town or another organising flights and stop over’s, mum spent all her spare time with the ladies she had befriended in the village and usually took grace with her which left me at home at a loss at what to do. Several times I went to Caro’s house and just when I was about to knock I turned away. I know I was behaving like a coward and that why I was surprised when I heard a knock on the door and it turned out to be Caro. She was staring at me with a stony expression, her green eyes large and furious. “After everything I did for you, after everything we have you don’t even bother to tell me that you’re moving to Australia!?” she spat. I was taken back; I had never heard Caro string so many words together in one go. “Well?” she demanded. “I was going to tell you” I offered feebly worrying myself with a lose strand of hair. She knew I was lying, she could see right through me. “As if” she muttered and slammed the door in my startled face.
It was only two weeks until we were due to leave England and the date was fast approaching. I hadn't spoken to Caro since that day but I had been busy. Well that was my excuse anyway. Mum had been rushing around like crazy, she had insisted that we get haircuts and before we return so we looked like we hadn't been living in a tiny village. I got my bottom length hair cut to my shoulders which took the dodgy hairdresser three hours. Tom was the usual, grace now wore a bob of curls and mum went for the boy cut. Not her best idea.
Everything was set in place and times. We would we leave Willowcombe at nine in the morning and catch the train to London. We would arrive there at eleven o'clock and then catch a taxi to Heathrow to arrive there by 11:15am to be able to catch out plane at 3pm. We worked like clockwork. Bags were packed and at the front door within the week and preparations were being made for the frame of Pembrooke. Mum and dad were going to try and sell the land.
I knew I had to go and see Caro. It was a fact but a fact I was trying to avoid. Eventually I summoned up the courage but it was only when mum told me that I was going to have to start saying my goodbyes, isn’t that something someone says when someone’s dying? Nevertheless the afternoon before we were scheduled to leave I went around know I owed her that much. Walking through the village lots of people came up to me (half of which I have never spoken to) and said how sad they were top see our family go. I nodded and smiled and continued on my way. When I finally reached her house I knocked pitifully on the door. Just when I was about to turn and go I heard footsteps. The door swung open and there stood Caro, perfectly smooth faced. “Hey” I said softly she remained indifferent but opened the door a little wider to let me in. She held out her notebook and as she did her sleeves rode up a little bit revealing a new set of crisscross red lines. When she noticed me looking she scowled fiercely but did nothing to cover them up. On her notebook she had written;
“why didn’t you tell me?
To that I had no answer. I just shrugged and said because I was scared, it wasn’t the whole truth and I didn’t mention that it was her I was scared of but she seemed to accept that.
Meet me at the clock tower....midnight
I looked up at her and smiled. Just like all those years ago...nothing had changed...


Caro

Caro was surprised that Lauren had agreed to come. But happy at the same time. As it got it became closer to midnight Caro decided to head out. It was cold and sprinkling with rain, the type of night you’d like to be tucked up in bed but seeing as it was their last night together there was nothing else she would rather be. she knew Lauren would already be there. Lauren was always ten minutes early to things. Pushing through the oak door she walked into the warmness of the church. It was dark inside but Caro had been inside so many times she knew her way around like the back of her hand. Creeping up the stair she could hear Lauren pacing. Smiling to herself she stepped into the light. Lauren looked so different. She had shorter hair obviously but Caro already knew that. Lauren looked older, like she had overcome something substantial which they had. For a moment they just stood there studying each other and then as though by magnetic forced the rushed forward and embraced each other. Holding on tight, knowing deep down that it was the last time that they would see each other.


7.

Lauren

I didn’t sleep after I saw Caro; instead I cried into my pillow for the remainder of the night. By the time morning came my pillow was soaked and I had no more tears to cry. I could hear my family in the kitchen. Eventually I summoned up the energy to drag myself out of bed and when I arrived in the kitchen I was told to go back and get dressed because we had to leave in an hour. That, I guess was my good morning. Pulling on some tights and a jumper I thought about last night. We hadn't actually exchanged any words, just feelings.
My mother’s voice cut through my thoughts, telling me to bring my suitcases outside and that we will walk to the station, I groaned in reply.
We were all outside ready to go when Caro came up to us. Then she did something that really surprised me. In front of my whole family she said;
“I just wanted to say goodbye and that I will miss all of you” before any of us could recover we she was gone, just liked she vanished into thin air...


Caro
(1 year later)

One had had passed since Lauren moved back to Australia. At first Caro and Lauren had exchanged letters regularly but lately the length had dwindled until it was no more.
****
And now here she was standing in front of the dilapidated Pembrooke manor. Hardly anything was left of it. There was talk of it being sold but nothing went through and in the in it was left to itself. Caro often came here, instead of the forest, because this was the place she had shared the two things she loved, her aunts and Lauren.
****
As dusk fell, Caro began to make her way back home, when she spotted a piece of crumpled paper caught under a rock. She was just about to keep walking when a breeze blew an the paper came loose and flew upwards. Caro caught it just in time and when she held it up to the light she recognised her writing;
“This is place of danger where the unimaginable comes true and the real world is lost...”
Lauren had kept it all along...


The end...

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 25.01.2012

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