Ana

Don't cry. Don't cry. You got this Ana. Just be positive.

My pep talks were failing miserably. Over the last 24hrs I've never experienced such bad luck in my life. I sat at the bus stop watching as my bus turned the corner and dissolved into a speck of dust and soon an empty nothingness. Much like the emptiness of my growling stomach. Regardless, I kept reminding myself to carry out my grandfather's dying wish. I would rest easy if I didn't at least try. He was all I considered to be family after my parents divorced. Other than that, I just kept the Gods in my heart. I can recall the faint images of my dad leaving while I was very young, there weren't many fond memories of him. He was a loud, angry man. Mother changed after he left us. She was the ghost of a woman she used to be. Grandfather used to come over many times to ensure of my good heath as he found her to be quite unstable. Looking back on it, I'm not sure why I was even left in her care in the first place. Around the age of six, she'd leave me at home for days alone. No one knew where she'd go. Until one day she left and never came back. I was half starved and locked in the attic she left me in. God knows how I had survived. But I did. I always did. And I will this.

Grandfather's death pained me terribly. He gave me everything. His inheritance. And yet, it was not what my heart desired. Just before his passing, he asked me to meet with the family lawyer who gave me a letter instructing me to visit this little town called Cher in England. Quite truthfully, the journey so far hadn't been the most pleasant. Just before leaving for my trip, Aunt Edna, paid me a visit with her gift of hurled accusations at me as she did not think her father-in-law's will was 'fair' and 'just'. A bitter old thing she was. Grandfather called her a sour-blood.

I arrived on time for my flight but alas there was a delay due to the impending storm. I waited all night, shifting uncomfortably and cautiously alone. Until it was time to board, a feeling of nausea hit me like a smack to the face. I threw up so many times that I just stopped counting. I was so happy when we landed, that is, until they lost my luggage. There wasn't much time to waste as I had to be at the train station to meet with a man named Granger at 2pm. It was to my surprise that no man by that name came to meet me. I was so hungry, so I walked to the nearest shop to buy a tart or two, that is, until I was stopped and swindled by a little boy posing to be homeless.

So here I am, without a wallet or any money on me, without food and my luggage as I watch as the last train for the evening left the station without me. Loud thunder grumbled in the overcast skies above. My stomach was its competition. Sighing, I tried to remind myself of the positives of the day. Sadly, there weren't any worth reminding myself about.

A little blue bird sat at the edge of the bench, observing the impending rain ahead of us. "Well aren't you a cute little thing." I smiled and reached my hand out to him until he flew away. I sighed. What do I do now?

A group of tourists suddenly walked past. A young man, who seemed to be the guide stopped before me. He wore khakis, an off-white long tee, and large glasses while his strawberry blonde hair tousled in the wind. With a bright smile, he put his hand out to me with his other holding a map. "You seem to be in need of a guide."

It was like he read my mind. I returned a polite smile. "Actually, I would like to get to this place." I stood, giving him the location on the letter. "I just, found myself in a bit of a situation here."

"Well would you look at that!" he chirped, "This is along the way of our hike. You can come along if you'd like."

A flicker of happiness flipped within me but dissolved within seconds, "I have no money. Someone stole my wallet."

"Not you worry." He assured me. "Next time I see you, you can buy me a cherry tart. My name's Quilt. Markie Quilt, but I always prefer just Quilt."

"Ana Alois." I smiled.

"Alright then Ana Alois, we best head on the bus to get to our hike before that storm breaks upon us. Birds of a feather flock together."

'What a strange wonderful man', I thought as he helped me into the bus.

The drive to the destination was quite shorter than I'd expected. Quilt was such a delight to listen to as he informed the fellow hikers of the history of the town they now entered. A sleepy little town it was. It reminded me of towns from the fairytales I used to read as a child.

"And here we are!" he beamed in a singsong manner. "Just up the hill is the Lancaster Castle. A romantic little story of how it came to be, I'll tell you along the way."

Exiting the bus, Quilt stopped me, "Ana, stick with me okay? I'll show you where we must divert paths along the way. I have an umbrella for you incase it starts to pour."

As we walked together in a group, he slowed a bit and gave me the umbrella. "You see that huge manor peaking out from there?" he pointed. "That's Oldstone Manor. That's your location."

"Oh Quilt," I smiled in a sigh, "I can't thank you enough. This means so much to me."

"You should go now before it gets too late. And be careful alright?"

"Thank you, Quilt. I'll never forget this. I'll make sure to meet you again to buy you that tart."

"I'll be looking forward to that, Ana Alois."

There was something so bright and kind about him. He was like that ray of sun after a storm. Or perhaps the sweet sound of a bird on a lonely day. Without time to waste, I tracked down the hill. Within minutes, I felt the heavy drops of rain pound upon my umbrella and the mud began eating into my toes. I wished I hadn't worn slippers like these. That was entirely my own fault.

The wind beat against the rain, soaking me regardless of the umbrella. I wasn't that far from the manor. I just wished this hill wasn't so steep. Thunder crashed as I stubbed my toe on a rock and tripped, rolling into the muddy ground. The umbrella slipped out of my hands and blew away as I tumbled down. I stood with a groan and pain in all places of my body.

I was a mess. A wet muddy mess. Just a little further I told myself slipping and sliding as the rain pounded on me, soaking me in its entirety. The manor wasn't large per se, it seemed very homely if I were honest. I sneezed as I reached the porch. A shiver crawled up my body while my hair dripped with water. At least here was dry. I knocked on the door but there was no answer.

"Hello?" I called, knocking again when it suddenly creaked open. It seemed to be already left ajar. I didn't want to intrude so I knocked again. Still, there was no answer. In the faint distance, I saw a man sitting in an armchair before the fireplace. The crackling sound of wood crisped through the thick air, and the fire somehow seemed to call me towards it. The room was chilly and the sounds were low. It was almost as if I could feel the faint breaths of the man vibrate through my pores. He hadn't turned to me, nor did I realize that I let myself in. I stopped in my tracks, taking in a shaky breath, and getting a better glimpse of the man.

He sat, unmoved yet aware. His delicate fingers perched upon his face as his eyes drank in the flames. His hair was long and white and cascaded down his shoulders. Yet, he was no old man. I don't think I've ever encountered a man with such features in my life. He stood, with his back still facing me. There was a certain elegance about him. He was a tower before me.

"You're going to soil my floor if you keep standing there." He spoke. The sound of his voice was much like a warm harshness, edged with an indescribable darkness to its core. I flushed regretfully.

"I'm sorry, I was just-"

He turned causing me to choke on my words. His violet eyes absorbed me, with a frown.

He's so beautiful.

His expression faltered almost as if he'd read my mind. Had he? Oh no, did I say that aloud? A flush of panic drenched over me. This was so embarrassing.

"You were just-?" he pushed me to continue.

"Well my grandfather sent me to this-"

The door suddenly slammed in my face.

What?

What just happened?

Was I walking backwards?

No. I- I couldn't be. How was that possible?

How did we reach so near the door?

I sighed sadly. My energy was terribly drained and my stomach was crying in hunger. My body was soaked and clothing were dripping. I had no money nor clothes and I was stuck outside a house of someone who didn't seem to care why I was here in the first place. I, myself, had no idea why I was here and that was the silliest part of all. I should just go back home. Wherever that was as I'm pretty sure Aunt Edna was currently occupying grandfather's house boldly, and wherever she was never felt like a home to me. I couldn't even leave right now unless I was willing to get soaked and lost in the coming darkness.

No. I wasn't someone to give up. I had to try and make the man at least listen to me. He was so rude to just slam the door on my face. What a cruel man. "Hey!" I turned back angrily, "I came here because I was sent here okay, mister! Could you maybe please just hear me out?"

Minutes passed. He didn't answer.

I sighed and sat on the little dry corner of the patio, curling myself in a little ball. "Please God Mathias, please help me." I prayed.

My eyes drifted heavily as I thought about the way my grandfather prayed so ardently to the Gods and allowed me to familiarize myself with them as well. He thought me about faith and goodness and stories of the Gods long ago. The God Mathias always held a special place in my heart. I never understood why. There was a gentle affection I felt towards the kind and forgiving God. I felt his presence near me often. Even now.

I dreamt of him.

The floorboards creaked as he neared me and knelt to my side, sheltering me from the rain which crashed in. His warm hand pressed against my cheek. He always smiled in my dreams but right now he seemed incredibly upset. His disapproving frown and jasmine scent intertwined. His blond hair fell evenly and neatly at his shoulders while his sky-blue eyes sadden.

All will be right.

I heard his words drift sweetly through my body.

All will be right.

And yet, time seemed distorted. 

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