The wind whispered as it rustled the brittle leaves, gently shaking the frozen trees awake. Fog crept along the forest floor, concealing the small creatures whose wide, black eyes stared out unblinkingly from their hiding places. Their ears twitched, swaying with the wind as they soaked up its words, listening with caution as they cast off the last dregs of sleep from their abruptly ended hibernation.

The eyes watched, as twigs snapped under dainty shoes following a thin, twisting path choked with vines and weeds. It had been many years, decades perhaps, since the old paths of the forest had been used by man.

Now a little girl, no more than eight, tread along the once abandoned path.

A grey, aging owl, whose feathers were slowly falling away into dust, hooted in greeting to the small creature who had wandered into the forest. The little girl did not respond, but rather clutched her small, furry bear tighter to her chest.

She continued down the path, shoulders shaking ever so slightly from the piercing chill of the night. It pricked at her skin, like the metal pins her seamstress used to fit her new dresses, raising goosebumps along her bare arms. Her eyes began to sting as her tears froze upon her lashes.

The girl’s head snapped to the side as the bushes lining the side of the path rustled, small leaves trembling violently as something unknown moved within them. She clutched the bear tighter to her chest; its warm brown fuzz tickled her chin as she tucked her face down against it. Tiny whimpers fell from her lips, partially muffled against the toy. The bushes trembled with an increased vigour for a few moments, then fell deathly still.

The girl jumped, nearly shrieking, as a small, silver cat emerged from the bushes. Around its neck hung a shiny, gold encrusted clock. Its nose and whiskers twitched, as it fixed the girl in its dark, soulful gaze. It lifted itself up onto its hind legs and tilted its head at the girl, patting the clock face with a single paw, before returning to all fours and slinking down the path.

The little girl stayed rooted to the spot; caution freezing her legs that begged to follow the curious creature. Its appearance was unsettling. Its skin looked to almost be hanging from its frame, as though it could peel off at any moment.

By the time she had decided that following the cat would be better than wandering aimlessly and alone along the half concealed path, the cat had already disappeared. The girl hesitated for a moment, before breaking out into a run; surely, the cat couldn’t have gotten too far yet.

The brown bear swung wildly in the vice like grip of the girls right hand as she ran, stumbling over rocks and branches as she tried to catch up to the cat. Her chest rose and fell with frantic breathes, lungs aching as they cried for air.

The girl slowed to a halt, clutching at her knees as she gasped in lungfuls of the damp air. She felt herself on the verge of tears as the cold invaded her chest.

The cat was nowhere in sight.

Her chest stuttered as she hiccuped through gasping breaths, nearly choking on her sobs.

As she calmed down, and the hiccuping breaths lessened, she finally heard the soft tune of an old nursery rhyme echoing through the forest in a barely audible, haunting voice.

Ring-a-round the rosie

The little girl slowly straightened up, continuing down the path, upon which she could see a small path of light before the next twist.

A pocket full of posies

The breathy voice began to rise in volume as she grew closer to the twist in the path. An owl hooted above her, and rustled its wings.

Ashes! Ashes!

The girl reached the twist in the road, cautiously turning to look down the path.

We all fall down

In front of her, and old lamppost stood on the left side of the path, lamp still lit. The stump of another lay on the other side of the path. The light flickered once, then sputtered out. She swore she heard childlike giggles in the forest around her.

The back of her neck prickled as her skin erupted in goosebumps. A trickle of air caressed her skin, and she turned with wide eyes as a gnarled hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder.

‘Charlotte’

Charlotte shot up with a gasp, a hand clutching her nightgown as she desperately tried to calm her breathing. Her rose coloured bedsheets lay tangled at the end of her bed, kicked off in the throes of her nightmare. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, as the chilly nighttime breeze filtered in through her open window, setting the thin curtains gently fluttering.

She pulled her sheets back up as she shivered. There was a light thump as her small brown bear fell out of its place amongst the sheets and onto the floor. As she wrapped them tightly around herself in a makeshift cocoon, she eyed the shadows of her bedroom, her fear filled eyes checking every corner.

There was nothing there.

Unsettled by her far too realistic dream, she remained in a state between waking and sleep for the rest of the night, unable to calm the twisting of her stomach long enough to fall back asleep.

The silhouette of the silver cat sat upon her closed eyelids, and the ticking of her old grandfather clock silently accompanied her through the night.

—————

Charlotte stood next to her nanny at the bottom of the stairs, watching her mother sob into an expertly embroidered handkerchief with confusion. Her father was kneeling in front of the open door, wearing a neatly pressed uniform with his badges of office clipped onto the lapels. He was holding her brother’s shoulders in a tight grip, face stony as he murmured to him. Her brother nodded sharply to whatever he had told him, and her father clapped his shoulders once before standing. He smartly fixed the lapels of his uniform, before turning to her.

“Charlotte,” he gently called.

Her nanny gently nudged her forward with a hand on her back. She walked up to him, unsure of what was happening.

“What’s wrong, Papa?” She asked, holding her bear, Snuggle, close to her chest.

He sighed, lowering himself once again to come face to face with her. He kneeled there in silence for a moment, and she could see the cogs behind his gaze turning. Whatever he was about to tell her, she wouldn’t like it. He never took so long to say something unless it was something she wouldn’t like.

“Papa has to go away for awhile. He’s needed by work,” he carefully began.

“How long are you gonna be gone?” Charlotte asked, pressing her chin into the soft fur of her bear.

“I don’t know, poppet,” he gently told her.

Charlotte nodded, feeling tears welling in her eyes, “You’ll come back soon, though?”

He avoided the question, “You’ll take real good care of your mum while I’m gone, yeah?”

Charlotte nodded.

“And you won’t give your nanny too much trouble. You and I know you’re brother will be giving her enough as it is,” he cracked a smile.

Charlotte giggled, “I’ll be good to nanny,” she brought her hand up to her mouth to whisper into her father’s ear, “I’ll try to get John to behave too.”

He leaned back and smiled at her, before wrapping her up in a hug, “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

Charlotte nodded, “of course.”

Her father pulled back, standing back up and turning to their mother.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised her, pulling her into a tight hug.

Their mother simply sobbed into his embrace, clutching him tightly.

“We have to go,” another man in a similar uniform said from the doorway, a black car idling in the driveway to the house.

“Just a moment,” he responded, pulling back from their mother.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” she grasped at his uniform, “You have to come back.”

“I will,” he kissed her forehead, “always.”

When he pulled away, Charlotte ran to her mother, clutching at her skirt. Her mother reached down, wrapping an arm around Charlotte’s shoulder. Her brother joined them, standing on her mother’s other side with a serious face.

“Remember what I told you,” her father gently, but sternly, told her brother.

He nodded, “I will.”

Their father nodded a final time, regarding his family with a silver lining in his eyes. He turned away, walking out to follow the other man to the car. The trio follow him out, Charlotte keeping a tight hold on her mother’s dress.

They watched him slide into the passenger seat of the car, and he turned to them one last time, waving goodbye, before the car pulled away. They watched it disappear, chortling, into the trees, and Charlotte couldn’t help the sense of dread that settled like a pile of pebbles in the pit of her stomach.

Their mother sniffled, and blew her nose into her handkerchief.

“Come on, inside,” their nanny gently laid a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, and beckoned to John, slowly leading them inside.

Charlotte twisted her head, craning her neck to take a last look at her mother’s tear streaked face before she let her nanny lead her away. Her mother’s eyes were glazed over, an emptiness swirling, threatening to drown the lights that danced within.

Fear and trepidation trailed its cold fingers down her spine, and as the gold trimmed double doors shut on the scene of her mother, she saw angry storm clouds gathering above the treetops.