𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄.

CHAPTER TEN: FAMILY HEIRLOOMS.

Elara was perplexed as the exterior of the fixture came into view. She was at the old house, and the view of the yard was crystal clear. The old house? How was that possible? They had sold the old house forever ago. It wasn't their home anymore, yet this was the place she was summoned. As she examined it, everything seemed to be the same. It was all in one piece, and even her mom's favorite wind chimes that Shelby got her for mother's day swayed in the cool night air.

She looked down at the ground, and found that even the dirt felt the same. She could feel the texture of the ground through her thin shoes, and it felt like home. For the first time since moving away, she felt a sense of familiarity that she had yearned for. It was like coming home after a long vacation, though the vacation hadn't been restful in the slightest.

As she looked up at the house, she felt a sense of longing that she had almost forgotten. Logically, it was impossible. She didn't understand how she had gotten here, or why it had manifested to her in this way.

The cars were placed in their perfect spots in the driveway, and she didn't think much of it for a moment until it really hit her: her mom's car was there, and she became even more excited. That had to mean they were waiting for her inside, and everyone was okay. They could be a family again. The thought of seeing them again made her heart skip a beat in anticipation, and she moved with anxious steps full of fear and excitement as she made her way to the white front door.

She reached for the door handle, and it felt as solid as the one that entered the apartment. Maybe it was silly, but she had missed the way that door handle looked and felt. She allowed her grasp to linger a moment longer, savoring every small detail of this surreal world. There was a small part of her that knew this wasn't real, that it had to be some kind of dream. But she didn't care. She would love being here as long as she could. She just wanted to be with them.

Yet, as she began to let herself inside, something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. It was a soft light emitting from the hobby shop that her father had, and the light was on. He was often there working on a project, he liked to design and build, and craft. It was his place that he liked to go to escape from the rest of the world, when he needed some alone time and serenity. He often needed alone time to recover, a trait that she had inherited from him.

She hadn't seen that light on in years, and the sight of it made her choke up with a swell of emotions she hadn't anticipated. As much as she loved the idea of getting to see her mom and Shelby again, the thought of seeing her dad tugged at her heart even more. It had been even longer since she last saw him. She could barely remember what he looked like now, and she hated it. Was the light a trick? Would it really lead her to him?

The truth was, she had no idea what was going on. At this point, though, she figured she had nothing left to lose. If a dark cloud wanted to swallow her up into oblivion, then she wasn't going to fight it.

Still, despite her desire to let everything go, her instincts told her to be cautious. She was guarded, and she looked around at everything in an attempt to analyze it. She had expected something to change, to alter her perception of her memories, but it was all the same, and she felt more awake than she had in a while. Even in this odd realm her footsteps felt heavy as she made her way across the yard.

She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, a rush of anticipation that she couldn't quite describe. All she knew was that it had been far too long since she made it to the shop, and doing so sent a rush of feeling to her that she had nearly entirely forgotten, which was crazy to her. Coming out to the shop used to be a near daily routine. It had become just as much of an escape for her as it did her dad. After school, especially when she had a bad day, she would come by for a while to talk to him as he worked on something. Sometimes he'd even let her help and she loved it.