#1 INTO THE DARK SERIES: Part 1

Chapter 2

                                                                                2

                                                                       Present day

Half past six on Monday morning.  Heavy rain drenched me.  But, it still couldn’t distract me from the queasy sensation seeping through my body.  Biting my lower lip, I thought about starting my first year at university in Oxford. 

Checking my watch, I cycled alongside the slow-moving snake of city traffic.  Endorphins were making me giddy. 

I blew out a breath.  Yes I could do this, like any other student.  NowI was a Fresher.  I hoped I could live up to it.  I’d been refining my fantasy student life in my head for a while. 

Peddling harder, I did a quick mental review.  Of course, I had the archetypal Oxford bike.  Complete with wicker shopping basket on the front; thanks to my ever-thoughtful Uncle Spencer, who I still lived with. 

Cycling faster now, shops whizzed past me in a multi-coloured blur.  I wondered which Fresher’s clubs would be on offer at St. Meril’s College.  I loved the thought of learning something new.  You never knew when these things would come in handy.

When I checked my watch again, the silver roman numerals showed 6.45am.  There was still a twenty minute cycle ride to visit the hospice where Irene was now.  I peddled on, keeping my speed up despite the driving rain.  My tyres sliced through dams of dead leaves. 

A memory of Irene’s smiling face flashed in my mind.  Oh Irene.  What a mess. Her soft voice echoed within me, “Remember, Emily, often the harder something is, the more it’s worth doing.” 

I took comfort in that as I arrived at The Mortimer Foundation Hospice.  Bracing myself, I locked up my bike and carried the flowers around to Irene’s room.  Now that I was stronger, I’d visit as often as I could and bring gifts to brighten the place up. 

It was kind of peaceful here.   The smell of scrambled eggs mingled with lavender air freshener in an odd combination.

My stomach ached as I made my way past several small family gatherings.  I glanced at their hunched shoulders and grim expressions.  At least they had each other.  It must make things easier. 

Slowing down, I looked at Irene’s name plaque on the door to double-check  I was in the right place.  She looked so different.  Her long auburn hair had been cut short and her pale skin had a bluish tinge to it. 

When I dug my nails into the stems of the flowers, the sap made my fingers sticky.  I’d brought her favourite – Freesias.  Not that she could see them.  Or smell them. 

I glanced around the neat, square room.  The flowery curtains matched the sunny yellow walls.  Next to the bed was a green and white gingham armchair, with a television in the far corner.  The room was so hot I took off my jacket, hoping it would dry whilst I was there.

It was only when I was sitting in the chair that I noticed the three framed photographs on the wall opposite.  In each one, a younger me, Ben, Uncle Spencer and Irene smiled back.  A nice touch.  Uncle Spencer had made Irene’s room homely, in case she ever woke up and he wasn’t there.

I wondered what he talked about when he visited her every day; probably something upbeat to encourage her to return home.  As if she had any say in it.  I swallowed back the lump in my throat.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

“Hi Irene, it’s Emily.

I don’t know what to say.  Except I miss you.  Still can’t believe what I did.  Irene, I’m very sorry.  I was confused and scared when we were in the other world.   I made a huge mistake.  The biggest mistake of my life.