The Dining Room
Charlie steps foot into the dining room, with, instead of a large table in the middle fit to seat 12, nothing in it. Charlie catches herself as she feels nothing of the empty space, realizing that seeing her Grandparents' house desolate is not as impactful as she thought it would be. No longer needing to walk around the centerpiece of the room, the place she sat every thanksgiving for the first ten years of her life nestled between her brothers and her cousins, Charlie walks right to the center of the room. The carpet — an interesting choice to keep with all the renovations for the dining room — is still brand new, having been hidden for years on end.
Charlie turns slowly, rotating her feet around in a circle. The walls no longer adorned with the pictures she used to stare at during these long meals, picking apart which ones she would like to have in her home one day. Charlie no longer remembers them, she realizes. A thought she doesn’t find distressing but doesn’t soothe her nonetheless.
Charlie backs back through the dining room away from its center, feeling uncomfortable being in the middle of the room, a territory unfamiliar. Backing up, one foot behind the other, Charlie runs into something with a crash— what sounds like a chair falling to its side. As she turns around to put it back up, wondering how it even got there in the first place, she is met with nothing. Looking around to find what she had run into, the scrapes and twines of fine china meeting silver lands on her ears. Charlie whips her head around, trying again to see where the noise is coming from but to no avail. As her eyes travel from corner to corner the noise grows. What was first scraping typical of a family dinner grew. Grew to be unbearable. The years, decades rather, of dinners in this exact room adding up to all broadcast at this exact moment. All for Charlie.
The noise is agony. The scrapes on plates that are uncomfortable for just one second, expanded to a moment entirely out of ordinary context. Deafening. Earth Shattering. Drowning out everything else that Charlie could possibly hear in that moment.
Charlie assures herself that this can’t just be in her head. The Agent must be hearing this too. Eyes watering, Charlie cracks them open — not even realizing they closed in the first place. Trying to find the Agent in the room, Charlie is suddenly sure that she isn’t there anymore. Eyes open fully Charlie is validated. The Agent is nowhere to be found. Charlie can’t help but feel as if she is the only one in this house. Perhaps the only one in the woods entirely. Forgetting the Agent, forgetting that she came here with Bill. Charlie is certain that she is the only one here.
Charlie is about to give up on looking for the agent entirely when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Except it’s not a tap but a slap. Turning around, hoping she was wrong about being alone and the Agent had simply returned from another room in the house, Charlie is met with no one. Except this isn’t necessarily true. Because, having turned around Charlie is facing the walkway to the room adjacent to the dining room. The mirrored living room that was once adorned with plants and furniture that looked nice but was actually pretty cheap. Looking into the mirror on the far wall, distant enough that she has to strain her eyes to see clearly, Charlies sees a figure behind her. Charlie stiffens immediately, frozen by the fear of someone in her house that she does not recognize. With the squeak of the floor and a blink Charlie loses the figure. Suddenly finding the energy to whip herself around, she is met with no one and the door cracked open.
Charlie has two options, she could walk back into the living room behind her or go out onto the porch.
Go Outside
The former made her uncomfortable, the stale air of someone lingering in the room, paranormal or not, made her unsure. The porch seemed like really the only option at that moment. Taking a break from the house and the mental congestion in it, Charlie walks out of the room and onto the porch with what felt like a leap.
Stay Inside
Although the latter made her uncomfortable, Charlie couldn’t help but resist the desire to see what was going on in the mirrored living room. This room, arguably her favorite, was pulling to her. It’s no wonder she saw the reflection of a figure in that mirror — if one room were to be haunted in the house it would be that one. Floating across the room in a manner Charlie felt uncontrollable. She took her first step across the threshold and the temperature dropped what felt like 10 degrees.