1: Odd Encounters

Breathing in the wonderful scent of maple wood and fire is a wonderful way to wake up. I turned over to see the digital clock blinking 11:26 AM. Leave it to me to sleep almost past noon.

Standing up, I stretch my limbs and hear my back pop, groaning in sleepiness. I walk out of my room and over to the balcony to see my neighbor turning on the grill for a barbecue. "Morning Mr. Fredrickson," I called. He looks up at me with his eyes wrinkling at the bright sun that shines over us, "Good morning, sweetheart."

I wave to him and turn to the bathroom to go wake up. After all weekend, out on search teams, it's Monday morning. Usually, I'd be in National Government Class, but today, thankfully, it's a Non-Student Day due to a Faculty Inservice. It whittles down to me got having to go to wake up at the break of dawn.

"Charlotte Rae, can you please come here," Mr.Fredrickson calls from the backyard. I run down the stairs and out the back door to see him with three logs of firewood.

"Would you like some help?" I laugh. His face turns into a scowl as he mimics me, causing me to laugh while trying to take two logs off of him. "George, one day you're going to get hurt!"

"And, love, that day you will still help me," he smiles. I laugh, shaking my head and I run inside to get the meat to grill. While in the kitchen, I see a note from Belle, on the fridge, telling me she'll be home before dinner to visit me.

While Mr.Fredrickson cooks the meat, he instructs for me to go into the woods, behind the complex, to get some wet twigs and branches for his smoker. Reluctantly, I grabbed a basket and held it close to me as I walked into the trees.

I try to help him out as much as I can because he is so kind and loving. When I first moved to this complex, he was so kind as to help my friends and I bring our boxes even though he could barely pick them up. Since then, he's been a sweetheart, helping in any way, and I, too, help him the best that any college student can.

The air smelled so beautiful, like bark and wet dirt. It must have rained last night. I smiled to myself and I squatted to pick up small twigs and branches. Along with the twigs, I found a beautiful shimmering rock near the roots of a huge oak tree. I placed it in my pocket instead of the basket, not wanting to accidentally throw it into the fire.

A snapping twig brought me back to my senses. I looked around fearfully, looking for the source of the noise. Looking to my left, I could see my building and the grill with smoke coming out of it. Another noise of leaves rustling made me jump, my eyes narrowing at the little pile of leaves.

I bent over, picking up a branch that was near my feet, not breaking eye contact with the leaves. I cautiously walked over to the pile of leaves, and once I was close enough, a small grey animal popped out, surprising me. "What are you going over here, lil' bud?" I cooed at the small rabbit. In response, it turned and hopped away.

Ridiculous how I could be so frightened over the rustling of a small pile of leaves. The yellow eyes are what is probably set me on edge, I tell myself. It's been a couple of days since then and it still chills me to the bone. Eyes like that aren't something so common, more or less something to forget or dismiss.

After a couple of hours doing nothing, I started to get sleepy. So instead of sleeping and wasting my day, I decided to head over to Belle's Parent's house to check up on the whole family. After Friday's events, she decided to crash at her parents' house is that she hasn't seen them in almost 2-weeks. She went to them because she needed her mother. Belle is the type of person to get worked up over the smallest things and distract herself with impossible ideas. Instead of coming to terms with the fact that Amelia has run away, her imaginative mind has come up with the idea that she was taken away by mythical creatures! I'm all for fairytales when we're young, but seeing as we are almost adults, I don't get why she believes in such foolishness.

Once I get into Belle's house, I greet Mr. and Mrs. King, only for them to tell me to use caution when going up to her room. "Ever since she came home last night, she's been cooped up talking about how 'they're coming.' It's quite horrifying," her mother confesses.

"I'm sure she's fine," I reassure her. She nods not wanting to talk about it anymore. I advance towards Belle's room. I've been here so many times, I can walk through her house with my eyes closed. Three doors, on the right, from the kitchen.

"Belle's?" I knock gingerly. With no response, I push open her slightly ajar door to find an empty bed with the windows wide open. Before jumping to conclusions, I try to calm myself down and I walk throughout here room inspecting it carefully. Although her window is opened, her curtains are pulled shut.

"Belle? Where are you, hun?" I call out again. I walk over to her bed, feeling the covers. They're cold, which means she hasn't been in them for a while. Looking over the room, everything is in place, so no one took her. My eyes catch the bathroom door which is closed.

Thoughts and images flash through my head, causing a cold chill to move through my body. I push the door open to see makeup everywhere and toilet paper rolled out on the floor. The shower curtain is pulled back and I see Belle, fully clothed, in the tub that is filled with water.

Her eyes are closed and she looks peaceful. The water is filled with bubbles, but what I can see, the water is clear. I get over to her and kneel so that I'm at her level. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I slowly shake her, "Belle, wake up. Why're you in a tub of water?"

My attempts fail as she won't wake up. Fear flows through my body as I place both arms on her shoulders and start to shake her more violently. I scream her name in attempts to wake her up. Footsteps echo through the house and my cries become louder.

Everything stops as she grabs my face with both of her hands, face pale, eyes black, and yell, "what's wrong, Lottie!"

My body runs cold and I jolt up, sweat pouring everywhere. My father's eyes, filled with worry. I could hear heels running up down my hall, my stepmother barges into my room, still in her work clothes. Tears roll down my face. My father cradles me as I cry, not asking any questions as to why I had a horrible nightmare.

This is the third time that I've had a nightmare in the past two weeks. All three, having to do with losing my best friends, only for them to come back angry. My stepmother leaves the room as my dad embraces me, running her hands through my hair. "It was so bad, daddy," I cried.

"It was only a dream," he reminds me. I pull away and shake my head, "no, dad, not like that. It happened, I did lose my friend. Amelia, she's lost and I can't find her."

To that, my father had no response. On the topic of my friend's disappearance, everyone had their own opinions. Some, like Belle, believe a mystical creature took her due to the history books.

In our small town, there are legends of creatures coming back, after centuries of hiding, to find their beloved. People outside of our town, and all over the world, have ideas of what creatures live to coincide with us, without our knowledge. Others believe they're crazy, like how I do.

Some people, like me, believe that Amelia ran away because of a boyfriend, or parents, or because she's a delinquent (which isn't true, I don't make a bad choice of friends). Amelia has had her share of boyfriends-gone-wrong, but she'd never run away with them.

And lastly, the worse idea of them all, people believe that her parents killed her. Some people understood how Mrs.Levingston, Amelia's mother, would get drunk and had the opportunity to possibly beat Amelia. Plus, how horrible Amelia's stepfather treated her. Because of those assumptions, they are not a prime suspect in her disappearance.

"Hello? Charlotte Rae?" My father calls. I finally look up at him and he is waving his hand in front of my face with worried eyes.

"I'm sorry, dad," I apologize. "I was just thinking about Amelia and how much I miss her."

"I get it, but just don't think about it too much. You're going to stress yourself out, and we don't need that being that it's your first year of college; it's stressful enough. Good grades in college equal good medical schools, remember?" He grinned. I nod, not feeling like answering. His smile falters a bit, but he quickly changes the subject, "how about we go out for dinner instead of making something?"

"I'd like that," I agree. He nods curtly and stands up, leaving me to get ready. "Daddy?" I called before he left. Before he closed the door, he popped his head in waiting for me to continue. "Can we go to Bentiga's?"

"Italian, I love it!" He cheers, completely agreeing with me. He leaves my room, leaving me to get dressed for dinner.

Bentiga's is a fancier Italian restaurant right outside of our town. Since it is a fancier restaurant, it is also pricier, so we limit our special Italian consumption to once a month. Which also means I have to dress nicer.

Looking through my closet, I decided on a rust pink knee-length dress. Although it wasn't one of my fancier dresses, it's one of the favorites that I try to wear anytime I can. The dress is looser on me than most other dresses which cause my legs to look miles long. The contrast of the rust-colored dress and my baby blue eyes make me look more exotic than I am. Unlike most girls my age, I take pride in how I look. On occasions, I will have times of self-doubt and low self-esteem, but after years of tearing myself down, I finally learned how to build myself up.

Once I finished changing into my dinner dress, I pin my bangs onto the top of my head, leaving my hair loose. Staring at my reflection, picking out every imperfection, I decide on light makeup, only to cover my flaws. Once I feel like I look good enough to go out, I slip on white ballet flats and head downstairs.

I scavenger through the kitchen for a snack while I wait for my parents to get the car. Knowing my stepmother, she is probably looking for a spare shirt, for my dad, in the truck. She always takes extra time to make sure my dad looks presentable. Couple goals, am I right?

At the beautiful restaurant, we were seated immediately near the window towards the back of the building. It always amazes me how wonderful it is here, with shining light fixtures hanging from the ceiling and black accents all across the room. One would think that since it's so dark-colored in the room that it would be dark, but in the tiles and booths, there are hints of silver in them, reflecting the light from the chandeliers causing the room to illuminate.

The waiter comes to our table and instantly, I want to hide in my booth. As soon as he walked up, his eyes went straight to me, acting as if I was the only one here. "What can I get for you, love?" He asks, blatantly staring at my cleavage. My parents, who are engrossed in their conversation about their meal, don't even notice him.

"Uh, apple juice will be fine," I mumble and pull up the neckline of my dress. He goes to say something, but before I could I call out to my parents, "w-what do you guys want to drink, Maritza? Dad?"

Their attention is diverted from the menu booklets to me, then from me to the waiter. "Oh, I apologize I didn't know you were here!" Maritza laughs sheepishly.

"It's fine, ma'am. My name is Declan, and I just wanted to know what your beverage of choice was," he smiled kindly. If he hadn't stared at my chest so flagrantly, then I would have thought he was a sweetheart.

"Oh, uh two glasses of Stella Rosa, please," my dad ordered. The waiter smiled and left, but not before turning and giving me a discreet wink.

I rolled my eyes, only for my dad to ask why I was being rude. "I'm not being rude, he's just creepy. When you guys were talking about what to order, he was flirting with me and was staring at my boobs," I complained.

"Well, then you shouldn't have worn such a low cut dress, sweetie," my stepmother lectured.

"Really?" I scoffed. How typical, blaming me for someone else's disrespectful actions. I got up, "I need to go to the bathroom."

Just like that, I got up and left my booth. I just think it's so stupid how my dad could just blame me for someone else's actions. I loved this dress and no one is going to convince me otherwise. Not even a pig-like my waiter.

Before I reached the bathroom, a hand stopped my tracks. I turn around to come face-to-face with Declan. "What do you want?" I asked, annoyed with the fact that he stopped me.

"You," he confessed. "You're just so beautiful." He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. I shivered at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against my ear, pure disgust.

"J-just leave me alone," I stuttered. He made me nervous, I heard stories of girls getting taken advantage of and I never want to be one.

"Why?" He cooed. "You're just so kind-eyed and beautiful. Being mine would be like the cherry on top of a cake. You'd have the best, me."

"I-I-" I tried to say, but I got cut off instead.

"Leave her alone," a voice boomed. I looked up to see a large guy towering both of us. Declan was only a few inches taller than me, so no more than 5'6, whereas the large man easily reached 6-feet. His body cast a shadow over us, not allowing me to see his face.

"Fuck off, she's my girl-" Declan tried to lie, but the man cut him off, "don't lie to me. I saw you harassing her earlier and I just heard her complaining." The man then took a step forward, almost growling, "Let her go. I'm not gonna ask nicely next time."

Reluctantly, Declan tsked and let me go. I took a couple of steps back to get out of their way and took a deep breath, suddenly not being able to breathe. As soon as he let goes, the man looked at me with soft eyes before he punches him, causing me to shriek at his sudden actions.

People around us noticed the commotion and jumped up, gasping in surprise and disapproval. I didn't think to stop the fight, so I ran past them to my table. My parents were standing up like everyone else and looked at me with shock and pity.

"What's going on?" My dad called.

"Can we please go?" I pleaded. "I'm sorry I ruined our dinner but please, can we go?"

Ignoring my questions, Maritza looks at me, "who is fighting and why did you come from that direction?"

"A man and our waiter. On the way to the bathroom, Declan stopped me and tried to flirt with me even more. I told him to stop, but he didn't listen. The man overheard us got him to stop and then punched him out of nowhere," I explained briefly. I could feel my hands shake with anxiety. "Maritza, dad, can we please go? I don't want to be here."

They both nodded. My stepmom took the lead and I followed, my dad walked behind both of us. At the entrance of the restaurant, Maritza stopped and looked at the manager with narrowed eyes, "next time, do a background check on your employees before I sue your asses for sexual harassment."

And with that, we left.