Charlotte stood at the peak of a mountain. The wind tangled her hair, the horizon spread endlessly before her. When she turned, she saw her mother standing a few steps away.
"Mom? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice trembling with confusion.
Her mother didn't reply. Instead, she stepped forward and, without warning, shoved her. Charlotte screamed as she tumbled into the void
And then her eyes flew open. She was in her bed, drenched in sweat.
"What a weird dream," she whispered, pressing a hand to her forehead.
"Charlotte," her mother's voice called beside her.
She turned and saw her standing there.
"Mom? What are you doing here?" Charlotte repeated, still half lost in the dream.
"I came to wake you up. You're late for college," her mother said sharply.
Charlotte groaned and buried her face in the pillow. "Ugh… I don't want to go."
"You have to. I don't want to hear excuses get up."
"Fine," Charlotte muttered, dragging herself out of bed.
Later, as she pulled on her shoes, she glanced toward the kitchen. "I'm leaving for college. Bye, Mom."
"Mm," her mother answered flatly.
Charlotte paused at the door, staring at her. Why didn't she invite me for breakfast? Why is she always so cold? She sighed. Well… whatever. I still love her.
Outside, the morning air felt heavy. On the far side of the road, a woman stood perfectly still. Blood streamed down her forehead as if from a fresh wound. Screams echoed faintly, as though carried on the wind. Charlotte froze had there been an accident? The woman looked lifeless.
Charlotte blinked, and in that instant, the figure vanished.
Her stomach dropped. Fear jolted through her and she bolted toward the bus stop. She climbed inside, her hands trembling, her heart beating unevenly. By the time she reached college, she tried to steady herself, to blend into the noise of her classmates.
"Bestie! Charlotte is here!" Delilah, her best friend, waved enthusiastically.
Charlotte managed a small smile. "How are you, Delilah?"
"I'm fine, but listen—I need to tell you something about Aleanor."
Charlotte's face tightened. "Why do you always follow her around? It's disgusting, Delilah. Please don't. I don't like it."
"Okay, okay. But first just hear the news." Delilah leaned closer, lowering her voice. "I saw her go into an abandoned place today."
Charlotte frowned. "Are you serious? She's our classmate. It's been three months and we hardly know anything about her."
"Exactly. She's mysterious."
"Look, Delilah, it's her life. We don't have to interfere. You're my best friend, but lately… I've noticed you're practically stalking her. It's not good."
Delilah recoiled. "What do you mean I'm annoying her? You're my best friend, not her. Don't you dare side with her! Go sit with her if you want—I don't care."
"Don't be childish. If you want to cut off our friendship, don't use Aleanor as an excuse."
"Well, I don't want to be your friend anymore." Delilah's voice cracked with anger. She turned on her heel and stormed away.
Charlotte sat frozen for a moment, then noticed a group of students crowding Aleanor.
"What are you doing?" Charlotte demanded, stepping forward.
One of the boys sneered. "Stay out of it, baby."
"She's my classmate. Stop it!"
The boy struck her across the face. Pain seared her nose, hot blood dripping down.
"Don't interrupt again," he hissed, shoving her aside.
No one moved to help her. Not Delilah, not even Aleanor.
When the bullies left, Charlotte staggered to her feet. Her vision swam. I protect everyone, but no one protects me. Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe this is karma for sins in a past life.
"Charlotte!" A familiar voice called. Her cousin Kira ran toward her, out of breath. "Am I late again? Wait—what happened to you? Your nose—"
"I'm fine," Charlotte interrupted quickly. "Go to class, you'll miss it."
"No. We're cousins. My class isn't more important than you." Kira touched her arm gently.
Charlotte forced a smile. "I'll be okay. Go on."
Kira hesitated, then pulled her into a hug. "You're so stubborn… Fine. But take care."
When Charlotte finally entered her classroom, everything seemed eerily normal, as if nothing had happened. She noticed one thing immediately: Aleanor was gone.
"Where's Aleanor? Today's test is important," she asked.
Her classmates shrugged. "We don't know. Just focus on yourself. Don't ruin your image because of her."
Charlotte sighed and sat by the window, her usual place in the back. Outside, she spotted Aleanor herself, running.
"Aleanor!" she called, banging on the glass. "Come back! We have the test!"
Aleanor turned. Tears streaked her pale face. "Charlotte… don't ruin your life because of me."
"What are you saying? Wait—I'm coming!" Charlotte leapt from her seat and ran.
Her classmates shouted after her, "Don't go, Charlotte!"
But she ignored them. If no one else cares, I have to. She's my classmate. Something's wrong.
Aleanor darted through an abandoned gate that hadn't been there moments ago. Charlotte stopped, staring. What about Mom? What about everyone else? Her heart pounded. But Aleanor is in danger. I have to protect her.
She stepped forward. Thunder split the sky. Behind her, the college blurred into darkness. One foot was already past the threshold—there was no turning back.
Beyond the gate lay a world of black clouds and twisted green forests. The moment she crossed fully, the gate vanished.
Charlotte collapsed to her knees, sobbing. "Where do I find her now? What do I do?"
Her voice was swallowed by the strange, endless forest.
Charlotte wiped her tears and forced herself deeper into the forest. Her legs trembled, but she pressed on, until the trees thinned and gave way to a vast sea.
She froze. In the middle of the water, two chairs floated impossibly upon the waves. A man sat in one, his face blurred like smoke, and in the other was Aleanor.
How can there be chairs on the sea? Why is she sitting with him? Charlotte's thoughts spun. Panic pushed her forward and she stumbled into the surf, calling out:
"Aleanor! What's happening?!"
The faceless man raised his head toward her. His voice was low, like it came from every direction at once.
"Charlotte… how have you been? You're late. You should have been here at three-fifteen. You're two minutes behind. But then again… here there is no night, no day. Only the faceless men."
She tried to scream back at him, but the words collapsed in her throat.
And then everything dissolved.
She opened her eyes again, disoriented. Darkness wrapped around her. Before her stood a single massive green tree, its roots twisted into a long road that stretched toward black mountains. She realized she was sitting on a wooden chair, ropes binding her wrists.
"Why… why am I tied?" she whispered.
Someone was behind her. Charlotte turned her head and saw a girl her own age, pale, hollow-eyed.
"What are you doing here, little girl? Where are your parents?" Charlotte asked softly.
The girl pointed at the ground with a crooked smile. "They're there. Buried."
A chill swept down Charlotte's spine.
"How long have you been here?" she asked cautiously.
"I don't know. A day, maybe."
"How many days?"
"There has never been another day," the girl murmured. "Only night."
Charlotte swallowed. "Then you're… stuck in time."
The girl tilted her head. "How do you know that?"
"What's your name?"
The girl frowned, searching her mind. "My name… I don't remember. I don't remember anything. Not why I'm here. Not who I was."
Charlotte's heart ached. "Then can you at least help me? Untie my hands?"
"How could I?" The girl's lips trembled. "I'm in a cage."
Charlotte looked around. "What cage? There's nothing here!"
"I don't know," the girl whispered.
Charlotte struggled, twisting her wrists against the ropes until her skin burned. With effort, she managed to free herself. "There. Now tell me—how do I free you from your cage?"
The girl shook her head slowly. "I don't know. You should go. Because you must go."
"Are you crazy? I won't leave you here!"
"Don't worry. You released me already. That was enough. Now go."
Rain began to pour, drumming on the lonely earth. The girl's voice grew frantic. "Go, Charlotte, go! Please!"
"Who… who is Charlotte? Is she me?"
"Yes! Please, run!"
Charlotte, trembling, obeyed. She ran and ran until she didn't know where her feet carried her. Then, far ahead, a light shimmered. Gasping, she stumbled toward it.
The light opened into a city, deserted and broken. Rain slicked the cobblestones. A foul stench filled the air. As she walked deeper, she saw them—figures all dressed in black, umbrellas shielding them from the storm.
In their midst was a coffin.
Charlotte edged closer. Inside lay herself, pale and lifeless, black roses scattered across her body. Around her eye was a strange dark mark.
"No," Charlotte cried. "Who are you people? Who am I? What is happening to me?"
The mourners did not answer. Their faces blurred, unrecognizable.
But at the edge of the crowd, a man stood watching. He laughed, a sound sharp and cruel.
Charlotte's eyes locked on him, and as soon as she moved, he ran.
"Wait!" she shouted, chasing him. "Sir, please! Who are you? Are you trapped in time too? If we talk—if we work together—we can find a way out! Please don't run!"
He vanished into an abandoned house. By the time Charlotte entered, he was gone. She searched frantically, climbing to the rooftop.
There, she found a black horse waiting in the shadows. Its eyes glowed faintly. Terror crushed her chest. She fainted.
When she awoke, she was surrounded by people in a house filled with noise, as if there were a gathering. She staggered forward, dizzy.
"Charlotte?" a boy's voice called.
She turned sharply. A boy stood there, smiling faintly. He took her hand.
"Come with me."
She didn't resist. He led her to the roof. Without hesitation, he jumped—and pulled her with him. They fell into the sea. He held her tightly.
"Close your eyes," he whispered.
When she opened them again, she was in a palace chamber. She sat up slowly. "Are you here?" she called softly.
The boy appeared and beckoned her. Outside, on a golden throne, sat a king.
"Don't you fear, coming here?" the king asked. His voice was like stone breaking.
"Father," the boy said quietly, "please."
The king's cold gaze softened just slightly. "You may go, child. Stay with him."
The boy led her to his room. On the wall hung a single painting—black from edge to edge.
Charlotte studied it, unsettled. "What does this mean?"
He leaned close, whispering into her ear. "This is your future." He smirked.
She turned to see his face clearly—and then her vision collapsed.
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer in the palace. She stood in a stranger's house. A husband and wife were screaming at each other. From the corner, a child's sobbing reached her.
Charlotte followed the sound. A girl, no older than six, looked up at her with wide, wet eyes.
"You're Charlotte, right?" the child asked.
Charlotte blinked. "I… don't know. Everyone calls me Charlotte, but I can't remember who I am. How do you know me?"
The girl sniffled. "You come in my dreams every night. Take me with you."
"Take you… out? But what about your parents?"
The girl giggled, almost mockingly. "They're not my parents. They're your future."
Charlotte stiffened. "What?"
"I'm just kidding," the girl said quickly. "But take me with you anyway."
Charlotte hesitated, then lifted the child into her arms and ran out of the house.
"Alright, kid," Charlotte murmured breathlessly.
The girl's voice darkened. "Thank you… for being dumb."
Charlotte froze, eyes widening. "What?"