Written by CBMokedi

Charlotte wiped the hair from her face. The sun was high, drilling through her thin curtains to spill its toasting rays on the bed. Her shirt was drenched, and so was Greyson's pillow. She wasn't sure if it was tears or sweat.

The last thing Charlotte remembered was the cold, mossy surface where she had rested her head while watching the little people dancing and singing boisterously. Their crystal-like laughter stuck in her head like a jingle. Her lungs had been filled with the sweet scent of night flowers, and the winds had caressed her hair.

What a bizarre, vivid dream.

Charlotte crunched her nose. Her grey, wrinkled bed sheet should have been changed and washed days ago, but she had not found the energy to do that. Charlotte would today if she didn't have to go to work. She groaned out loud thinking of her desk. Alongside her job and coworkers. Together, they kept her mind off the dark corners that otherwise would swallow her whole if she wasn't careful, but Charlotte couldn't imagine sitting there for eight hours today, answering questions about payrolls or what time the cement order would come in. She couldn't. She also couldn't face Allison or Stephen and their good-natured concerns. Charlotte felt she would snap at the tiniest thing, and that wouldn't be nice.

She reached for her phone. 9:30 am. Great, now Charlotte was late too. Her head was throbbing, and she desperately needed some painkillers even when she knew they provided little comfort. She dialed the company's number. Allison should be there.

The phone rang for a good few minutes before going to the automatic answering system. It was strange, but Allison could be busy or run to the restroom. She might even have her earbuds on. Who knew?

It was against the company's policy, but Stephen had turned a blind eye to it as long as Allison finished her tasks for the day. He knew she was good at her job.

Charlotte dragged herself out of bed. The blood rushed to her head as she stood up, making her sway and see double for a second. Everything then slowly settled down. She took a few struggling steps to the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror startled Charlotte a little. Her eyes were puffy, and her hair looked like a stork nest.

"What in the world..."

She picked out a small leaf from her tangled locks. It must have gotten in through her open window. The endless pines outside leaned back and forth with the strong winds, giving Charlotte more questions than answers. She flipped the little yellow leaf in her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed with thoughts. The dream last night once again occupied her mind.

Charlotte had never experienced anything like that. She was not much of a dreamer at all. Her dreams, when they happened, were simple. The one last night, however, was eerily realistic. The sounds. The smell. The strange language of touch that she somehow understood. They offered comfort like nothing else. Not even her work, her time at the bar with Rose and Allison, her phone calls with her parents, or her therapy sessions could do the same. Charlotte felt guilty for even thinking that, but she knew it was the truth. She couldn't lie to herself.

Charlotte called the office once again. No one picked up. She sighed and decided to text Allison instead. Normally, her friend would reply instantly.

She waited and waited, but besides the two ticks showing her message had been received, there was nothing else. Allison didn't read it.

Charlotte opened the faucet and splashed some water on her face.

"Pancakes or waffles?" Greyson asked while leaning on the door. He didn't look a day over forty-two.

"What do you think? Not really feeling like anything though..."

Greyson shrugged, "Why don't you go to Dottie's Kitchen? They have their special omelets."

The mention of omelets picked up her mood a little.

"You're right, Grey. What am I gonna do without you?"

Greyson smirked and shrugged again. The sight squeezed Charlotte's heart and wrenched it like a wet rag. She gave her husband a crooked smile. "But first, coffee."

Charlotte walked out of the bathroom and headed to the closet. She changed into her blue tunic and a pair of capris. The weather was hot as hell now. After seven in the morning, going out was discouraged.

Charlotte went into the kitchen and prepped the coffee like how she always liked it: Straight. The bitter dark brown liquid warmed her from the inside out and calmed her nerves. It woke every synapse but dulled her throbbing headache at the same time. The dream appeared in her head again.

The little people and their delicate wings fluttering in the wind.

Charlotte put the dirty cup in the sink and headed to the door. She put on a healthy amount of sunscreen and opened the door.

The warm breeze on the porch was a welcoming change from the stale AC air inside her cabin. Where she stood was still breathable thanks to the shade. The sun had not reached her doorstep yet. Charlotte put on her sunglasses and grabbed her bag and car keys before closing the door. She couldn't shake the image in her head: A band of tiny people with their dragonfly-like wings dancing and singing by their "fire".

Charlotte got into her car and turned the keys. The radio blasted in her face as well as a blow of musty air from the vent. She cursed and turned everything down a knot.

"Oof, smells like bad cheese." Greyson scratched his head.

"You don't say," Charlotte replied while backing her car away from the cabin.

She drove down to the main road and headed West. It was a beautiful day for a ride with no destination in mind, but Charlotte had one.

"You might not get a seat by the time you get there, babe."

"I'm not going to Dottie's Kitchen." Charlotte shook her head.

Greyson cocked his eyebrows without asking anything. He knew her well. Once she was in this mood, it was better to just leave her be.

Charlotte stopped at one of the only two gas stations nearby to fill her tank. Dottie's kitchen was great, but it could wait. The gas station's pizza did look tempting, so she bought two slices and a big drink. As she headed for the door while shoving one slice of pizza in her mouth, a tourist brochure got her attention.

Colonial Era Re-Enactments. Sign up here!

There was the sign. As if she needed one.

Charlotte got in her car and adjusted her rearview mirror. Greyson's cross dangled in her view. She smiled at its gleam before turning on the engine and driving out of the gas station parking lot. The GPS said it would take about twenty-five minutes to get to the museum. Charlotte could make it in twenty. She drove while watching for anything remotely resembling red and blue light.

Helen was small. Half the time, the sheriff and his captains would be at the stations or hanging near the Lazy Palm, where most of the town's exciting activities happened, but they could also drive around randomly.

Charlotte sighed. Her first impression of Sheriff Whittle wasn't bad. He had taken her home that fateful night of her almost-assault and frequently checked up on her ever since. He reminded Charlotte of her dad, but the authoritative air that exuded from the African American man was completely different from her easy-going old man. Sheriff Whittle's piercing, borderline judgmental look made Charlotte feel as if he was just waiting for her to mess up.

Of course, it could be very far from the truth, but she couldn't know for sure.

The three flags in front of the Unicoi Gap History Museum got into Charlotte's vision as she made a right turn. Her Honda crunched on the gravel as it grunted to a stop. She straightened the car before taking a gander at the empty parking lot. It was midday.

Maybe they were on lunch break.

The museum wasn't super busy the last time she had been here either. Charlotte turned off her car engine and got out. She walked the same route as she had last time toward the back of the museum. Halfway there, she saw Stephen.

He stood by the door, shoving books into the red return bin, three at a time. He wore a black T-shirt with the company logo on it and a pair of cargo shorts. The man looked casual. Charlotte raised her eyebrows at his choice of outfit, but her brain immediately worked to form an excuse.

"Hi, Stephen. How are you?" She would run away if she could, but Stephen had seen her. "Are you getting back after this? I just got back from the clinic and stopped to get some fresh air. I felt weird this morning, so I went there. Didn't know it would take all morning. You know how Dr. Sampson is... I texted Allison though...." She leaned forward and coughed as hard as she could.

"Oh no, is everything ok, Charlotte? I didn't know Dr. Sampson was in today... But, no, I won't go to the company after this. Why would I? Do you need something there?"

"No... You took today off too, Stephen?"

"No! Today is Saturday. You forgot?" Stephen chuckled.

Charlotte's "Ohhh" died down as she pulled out her phone. Right on the screen, 'Sat, Sep 14' glared back under the time. Her hanging heart slowly returned to Earth, and then her treacherous stomach growled.

Charlotte was petrified at how loud it was. She felt the blood rush to her face, sending tingling down to the tips of her fingers and toes. "Haha, apparently I need some food." She scratched her head while mentally cursing at the gas station and their zero-nutritional-valued food.

"You know what? I haven't had breakfast either. Want to head down to Dottie's Kitchen after this? How do you feel now?"

"Oh, a little better..."

Every part of Charlotte wanted to bid Stephen goodbye. She yearned for the softness of her bed and pajamas, but his warm hazel eyes and smile started to make her cave. As if on cue, her stomach growled again.

She laughed, "Dottie's sounds good to me."