The car silently hummed. It was 3 pm on a Saturday. Charlotte peered out the window and saw the first fallen leaves. She thought about the way her brother had been ignoring her lately; he'd just hang out with his friends. She wondered, if there was something she had said or done.
- Do you think I can take Barry with me? - she asked, looking at her grey, slightly worn out bunny, wondering, if, perhaps, I'd be better to act more her age. She was nine after all.
- Of course, honey! - her mom said, taking a turn.
Charlotte wasn't entirely sure. Her brother had his own group of friends, and whenever he'd hang out with them, she'd see, that he acted and spoke differently. Charlotte sighed. She didn't understand why it needed to be so hard.
- Mom... - Charlotte said.
She bit her lip and stared down at Barry.
- What is it?
Her mom shot a look at Charlotte, who was absent-mindedly petting her bunny.
- You can tell me! - her mom said.
- What if... what if I don't fit in? - Charlotte squeezed out, - All of the other girls are ten years old already. What if they think that I'm silly?
- Oh, sweetie, you have nothing to be worried about. Just be yourself, - her mom said.
She still wasn't convinced. Do third graders take their favorite pet-friends with them? Charlotte peered at her bunny. To be sure, she decided to put Barry in her backpack. She created a sort of a little hole in the bag, so that he could feel comfy.
Once the backpack was closed, she looked up and realized that the car had stopped.
- Are we there? - Charlotte asked, a bit surprised.
She saw a rustic style house in front of her. It was dark brown with checkered windows that had wooden shutters; just below them hung flowerpots with asters and dahlias. It was mid-September, the vines were slowly turning burgundy, but still had specks of green at the top. They stretched along the sides of the house, creating a pleasant contrast between the red and brown tones. It reminded Charlotte of the story of "Hansel and Gretel".
- Are you all set? - her mom asked, giving Charlotte a warm smile.
- I think so, - she answered, looking at the invitation in her grip.
It was a neatly handwritten note which had said nothing but the address and time.
- OK then, let's get you inside, - her mom said with an air of determination.
Both of them exited the car and advanced towards the house.
Her mom rung the bell, while Charlotte observed the intricate carvings on the wooden door. The smell of dahlias and asters lingered in the air. There was muffled buzzing from the nearby flower pot. Charlotte reminisced about all of the bed-time stories her mom had read to her and her brother about great kingdoms, adventures and bravery, princesses and monsters. Lately, she'd listen to the stories alone.
The door opened, and a round, rather short woman of about thirty emerged. Charlotte let out her breath, which, she now realized, she'd been holding.
- Why, hello, you must be Charlotte's mom? - the woman joyfully asked.
- Yes, pleased to meet you. I hope we're not late, - Charlotte's mom replied.
- Right on time, come on in, - she moved to the side and gestured to the hall.
- Oh, I can't, I have to run, - her mom said, apologetically, and turned to Charlotte. She kissed her forehead, saying - Behave! And have a magical day!
OK, this is OK, Charlotte thought, realizing that she was alone and that there was nowhere to run, if the need had arisen. Anyway, she'd been looking forward to this party all week and it would be stupid to get scared now, she thought to herself.
Only then Charlotte grasped that she was already standing at the entrance of the living room. Her mouth popped open at the site of all the decorations, but she quickly got hold of herself. After all, her mom had said that a person cannot stand with its mouth wide open - a bird might fly in. She definitely didn't want that. A moment later, she realized how stupid that sounded. She was inside a house - there were no birds.
The room was jammed full with balloons and paper decorations - all of them in different shades of yellow. Even the cupcakes, fruits and other appetizers were chosen for their color, it seemed. In the center stood a sort of a golden colored, sophisticated blanket-fort. The roof was made of beautiful silk shawls that stretched to the sides, creating the form of a pyramid.
The girls - Charlotte's classmates - were sitting in a circle on orange floor cushions inside the fort and happily chattering to each other. They waved for her to join, so she left the bag, bent down and sat on the one empty cushion she saw and looked up at Kate, the host of the party, who was currently talking about a new game she'd acquired. Some girls were intently listening to her.
Charlotte too turned her attention to Kate.
- ..so, basically, we just need to follow this, here, roll the dice, and then, with the help of these cards, I will be able to tell everything you did before,- Kate said, as she gestured to all parts of the game, - My cousin Lindsey got it a couple of weeks back, and she confirmed that it all checks out.
- Oooh, I wanna know, let me go first! - one of Charlotte's classmates called out in a high-pitched voice.
Charlotte looked confusedly at the components of the game as she furrowed her brows - I think I missed some of what you said. What does it do?
- This is a spiritual guide to your past, see? - Kate solemnly said, indicating to the box called "Guide Of The Mysterious".
- Oh, I dunno, - Charlotte muttered, unnerved.
- It's solid, - Kate said.
- Did you try it? - Charlotte asked.
- I didn't need to. You see, Lindsey discovered she was an actress in her past life, she didn't know who exactly, but a real good one, I bet. And also, she had a dog, - Kate replied with a slightly raised voice to make an impression on the other girls, who were looking with admiration back at her.
- No, I mean, yes, of course. - Charlotte said, apologetically.
She couldn't let them think that she wasn't OK with this. This was probably the sort of thing she should get used to now that she might be a part of a girl group. Besides, she hardly understood what the game actually did. Still, it seemed scary, so Charlotte decided to try a bit different approach.
- Isn't it, like, bad luck to see your past? - she asked.
Some of the girls looked at her with worried expressions, then turned their heads to Kate, who had noticed the shift of mood in the room.
- Lindsay told me that she had a scaredy-cat amongst her friends, too, so, I guess, it's not for everyone. - Kate answered, unimpressed.
That did it. Charlotte was mortified. She decided it was better to stay quiet. Kate, however, immediately regained her previous excitement, so she just gave a wide smile to the girls, barely containing herself.
- Let's start? - she asked.
- Yeeees! - the girls exclaimed.
The preparation took almost fifteen minutes. There were questions to fill out, dice to throw... All of the girls, Charlotte included, were hanging over their paper sheets and carefully writing the answers.
When the first part was done, the girls straightened out and exchanged nervous glances. It was important to get it right. Some looked satisfied for a moment, but then rather abruptly crouched over their scribblings and crossed out an answer or two, or added a couple of lines.
Charlotte examined her handywork with a sense of dread. She had written as little as possible. None of this felt right. She looked around - all of them seemed to like the game. By now, most of the girls were speculating about their past lives, while maybe one or two of them were still writing.
Was it really just her?
Why did this bother her so much? Charlotte looked once again at her sheet. Date of birth, place of birth, a couple of questions about her looks, character and family... No, this couldn't possibly work... could it? How can a couple of answers unfold her past?
This felt big. She couldn't tell how important this was exactly, but she imagined that it's the sort of thing that people would talk about on the TV or write about in the newspapers.
Why didn't her mom or brother tell her about this? Or was it something that each person needed to go through on their own? Just like in a story that mom used to read to her, where the boy had to go away to realize, how much he wished to come back home.
Charlotte glanced at Kate and noticed that Kate's sheet was blank.
- Wait... You haven't done yours at all! - Charlotte said.
- No need, - Kate simply answered.
- Did you do it with Lindsey? - a girl, sitting next to Charlotte, asked.
- I didn't have to. I know exactly what happened in my previous life... - Kate bragged.
- Yeah? How? - Charlotte pressed.
- If you must know, - Kate said and turned to the girls and continued, - I've seen it. I was a teacher in a school in England. I taught math.
- But how do you know? - one of the girls asked.
Kate stood silent only for a moment.
- Well, one night I woke up. I was scared, because at first I didn't understand where I was. Shortly after that my mom ran in and turned on the lights. Only then I realized that I was sitting in my bed. What I'd seen felt so real-,.. so I told my mom everything, - Kate explained.
- Basically, she said that a dream like that can only mean one thing - memories, - she concluded.
Girls nodded in silent agreement. Charlotte tried to recall some of her dreams, but nothing came to her.
Kate put the cards down and turned to the girl on her right.
- OK, you're first, let me see... - Kate said, taking the answers from her.
She took a card from the top of the deck and put it in the middle of the floor, turning it over. It was a picture of two people holding hands. She did the exact thing with the next couple of cards, lining them one next to another. There was a beautiful tree, a piece of a puzzle, a picture of the Sun and the Moon, and a card of a cat.
The girls were all staring at the cards with great anticipation. Kate flipped through the pages of the instruction and made small notes.
- The time of truth. Are you ready? - Katie ominously asked.
- Yes... - the girl replied.
- OK, judging by your answers and the cards... - Katie announced seriously - In your past life you had a great friend or a 'great love'.
Everyone chuckled at this.
- There was also 'wealth' or 'family'... or both. - Kate continued, reading from her notes.
Then she pointed at two of the cards and said with a tragic note in her voice - But this combination here, the book said, isn't that good. It tells of bad people that only pretended to be good. They lied and caused bad luck or bad things to happen.
A chorus of gasps filled the room, which for some time now had been quiet, excluding the hosts' voice and the sound of the music in the backdrop. The girls anxiously chattered for a bit, then and a new wave of expectation came. Everyone knew it was time to pick the next victim.
Charlotte got more than unsure. What if it was something bad? Really, truly bad? What if she was the bad guy in her own past?
Charlotte never gave any thought to the good things. She felt it wasn't anything noteworthy - being good. Weren't most people good? And, anyhow, no one really talked much about it. Everyone just kind of assumed that a person is good.
Bad people or bad actions - that she had heard plenty of. There were numerous books, talking about evil witches, who preferred children to chicken. There was the TV guy, who always spoke about some trouble or another, and yet her parents kept listening to him every day. Even her grandad, when he came to visit, kept talking about some 'horrible and noisy' people living next door.
No, it was all spinning out of control. Charlotte looked at her knees and cuffed them with her hands. She wished Barry, her bunny, was here, but he was tucked away in her backpack.
Somewhere next to her Kate was doing the next reading.
Charlotte didn't want to find out that she had been a bad person- that she knew for sure.
She thought of what her mom had said earlier. What if her mom was right, and the girls would be OK with her, no matter what?
Charlotte gently nudged Kate, who was now going through another set of answers.
- Kate, - Charlotte said, - I'm not sure I should be doing this.
She tore her sheet into pieces and left the fort. The chatter fell behind her as she went to get herself one of the pretty looking, yellow cupcakes. She sat on the chair right next to her backpack and thought of Barry. Next time she'd leave him home, he'd probably feel much comfier there than carried around in her small bag. The cupcake was sweet and delicious.
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