by Cross, Amy
"Of course she is," Tony said unconvincingly. "She's a smart girl."
"Exactly," Charlotte replied. "I mean, when I went missing, I was dumb. Really fucking dumb. Believe me, even for an eight-year-old, I was pretty bone-headed. Sophie's not like that. The kid's smart and she knows what she's doing. She can look after herself."
"Sophie!" Ruth shouted up ahead, sounding increasingly desperate. "Sophie, where are you?"
"She must be able to hear us," Tony muttered. "You're right, she's smart, and she's not deaf either. She must be doing this on purpose. She could have -" He stopped suddenly. "Oh fuck," he said after a moment. "Please, Ruth, don't take this too far."
It was too late. Up ahead, Ruth had finally reached the entrance to the cave. Back when she and Charlotte were children, the cave was a forbidden place, and they were told over and over again by their parents to never, ever go into the darkness. Of course, while Ruth had been obedient and well-behaved, Charlotte had to eventually rebel against such strict instructions, and when she was exactly Sophie's age, she went blundering in there. The shadow of that afternoon's misadventure had been hanging over the family ever since, and now Ruth was standing at the entrance, staring into the darkness.
"She's not in there!" Tony said as he caught up to her. "Ruth, there's no way she'd be in there!"
"How do you know?" she asked, her voice thick with tension.
"Why the hell would she do something so stupid?" he continued. "We've told her over and over not to go in there."
"So?" Ruth replied, still staring into the cave. "Maybe she decided to go in anyway, just to spite us."
"Look," Tony pointed out, "the grass around the entrance hasn't been disturbed or tramped down. There's no way she's been this way. She's probably back up at the house by now, wondering where we all are."
"You don't know that," Ruth said. "What if..." Pausing for a moment, she finally turned to look back at Charlotte. "What if she's done the same thing you did all those years ago?"
"There's no way," Charlotte replied. "Don't be fucking stupid, Ruth. You're -"
"Don't tell me I'm overreacting!" Ruth shouted back at her. "You don't have children, Charlotte, so you don't know what it's like! You don't have a clue! You're barren, remember? You probably don't even have the capability to understand how a mother feels about her child!"
Charlotte held her hands up in mock surrender. "I'm sure she's fine," she said, trying to make herself believe her own empty rhetoric, and ignoring the desire to punch her sister's lights out. "Whatever she's doing -"
"You were egging her on," Ruth continued, warming to her theme. "Back there in the garden, you were filling her mind with all sorts of nonsense, about monsters in the basement and horrible, deformed mutant children, and now look where it's got us! You've got her thinking about that kind of thing -"
"You mean she's actually got a mind of her own," Charlotte snapped back at her, annoyed that once again she was being blamed for the family's problems.
"Calm down," Tony said quietly. "Charlotte's just trying to help -"
"No!" Ruth said firmly, pushing her husband away as she approached her sister. "You need to hear this, Charlotte. You filled my daughter's head with all sorts of rubbish, and now she's run off somewhere! She could be hurt! She could be dying!" As her eyes filled with tears, Ruth waited for an answer. "She's eight years old, Charlotte! Eight! She's exactly the same age that you were when you disappeared!"
"She hasn't disappeared," Charlotte replied, stunned by the force of Ruth's anger. "She's just... gone... somewhere. It's perfectly normal for a little girl to want to -"
"How would you know what's normal?" Ruth spit back at her, before turning and picking her way through the long grass that led into the cave.
"Hold on!" Tony called, hurrying after her. "Ruth, you can't go in there! Sophie hasn't been this way! You're panicking over nothing!" He waited for Ruth to reply, but she was forcing her way forward. "Ruth, seriously," he continued, "you're not thinking straight! Why would Sophie go in there?"
"I'll go back to the house!" Charlotte shouted after them, figuring that there was nothing more for her to be doing down by the river. "I'll see if she's there, and then I'll go and take a look at some of the fields!" She waited for a reply, but her sister and brother-in-law were still bickering as they disappeared into the shadows of the cave. "Fine!" Charlotte shouted. "You two go stumbling around in the dark, and I'll go and actually do something useful that might help us find your daughter!" She waited for a reply. "Great," she muttered, turning and heading back along the riverbank, "at least we all know where we stand!"
She made her way slowly back to the house, constantly turning and looking over her shoulder in case there was any sign of Sophie. Trying to ignore the voice of doubt in the pit of her stomach, she kept insisting to herself that Sophie had merely wandered off, and that there was no way history could repeat itself, not in such a specific and cruel fashion. Nevertheless, with every second that passed, she became more and more worried, until finally she reached the house and breathlessly entered the kitchen, only to find her mother passed out at the table with one outstretched hand resting next to the half-empty bottle of sherry.
"Sophie!" Charlotte shouted, hurrying through to the hallway and calling up the stairs. "Sophie, are you here?"
Silence.
"Sophie!" She waited again, but this time she knew there wasn't going to be a reply. That voice in the back of her mind, insisting that something was wrong, was getting louder and louder, drowning out all of Charlotte's other thoughts. She tried to think of all the places Sophie could be, all the places she could have hidden or fallen, until finally she began to contemplate the one possibility that she'd been trying desperately to ignore: the possibility that somehow, Sophie had ended up in the same place where Charlotte had ended up all those years ago. With trembling hands, she fumbled in her pocket for her cigarettes and lighter.
"This isn't happening," she whispered. "Not again. The world is not this fucking cruel."
Twenty years ago
Having played with Ruth for a few hours, Charlotte had finally managed to slip away. Now she stood alone at the side of the tow-path, facing the cave, and she knew exactly what she had to do.
And why she had to do it.
Placing a hand on her belly, where there was still a faint, fluttering pain, she tried to persuade her adventurous half to hold on just a little longer. She felt that there must be a chance she could revive that other voice in her head, if only she could prove to it that there was still some point in sticking around. It was quite obvious to Charlotte that the previous day's events had struck a mortal blow to Ettolrahc, and that her timidity in the face of her mother and sister had made her adventurous side give up on her entirely. Each tear that flowed down Charlotte's face had probably seemed like a dagger to Ettolrahc, cutting her again and again until she was struck down by death itself. There must have been a lot of blood, even if only a few specks had leaked out of Charlotte's body.
"It's okay," Charlotte whispered, staring at the cave's dark entrance. "I'll show you." It felt silly to talk to herself, but she felt that she had to give some kind of verbal encouragement to Ettolrahc. "We'll be brave together," she added, "and I'll show you that I'm not weak."
Despite these words, however, she felt desperately scared. The cave had always been considered out of bounds, and Charlotte's mother had warned her over and over again to never go inside. Still, in recent days, an argument of unprecedented ferocity had been raging inside Charlotte's head. The adventurous Charlotte had wanted to go exploring, to plunge into the darkness and see what might be found, whereas the cautious Charlotte had wanted to just play the way they always played on a warm summer's day. Eventually, the cautious Charlotte had won out, but in doing so she seemed to have struck a mortal blow to Ettolrahc. There had been a little unease between the two voices in her head, of course, but she had never guessed that the result could be blood. As she stood in the mouth of the cave, b
arefoot and nervous, she tried to ignore her fear, and she allowed only the faintest flicker of doubt to cross her features.
She couldn't help but glance back over her shoulder yet again, toward the house. She knew that her mother would react with horror if she knew about this little adventure. This was Charlotte's timid, respectful side; always worried about the repercussions, and always convinced that she'd end up being told off and sent to her room. This part of her, so often in control, was now just a passenger, as she forced herself to remember that everything she was doing, she was doing for Ettolrahc's sake. Ultimately, if it came down to a battle between Ettolrahc's influence and that of her mother, it was Ettolrahc who would win every time.
"Okay," Charlotte whispered, aware that there was no point delaying things any longer. "Okay."
Slowly, she started walking forward into the wet cave, her bare feet instantly feeling cold. She was convinced that at any moment, the witch of the cave might leap out and make her presence known, and Charlotte had already managed to conjure up all sorts of horrific visions of how the witch might look; perhaps she'd be a green-skinned, wart-covered monster with a stove hat; or maybe she'd be an old crone, with straggly long hair and rounded, swollen joints; worst of all, she might look like a normal woman, her power hiding deeper beneath the surface and behind a pair of calm, seductive eyes. Charlotte wanted to be ready for any eventuality, yet she also believed that the witch would probably be capable of surprising her with another form entirely.
Barely a few meters into the cave, the light was already low. Charlotte could hear water running somewhere beneath the rocks upon which she was standing, as a smaller river flowed somewhere in the darkness.
A drop of cold water fell from the wet roof and landed on the back of Charlotte's neck, causing her to take a shocked step back and, in the process, almost knocking her off her balance. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost losing her confidence and bravery. Almost, but not quite. She steeled herself before reaching down and wiping some dirt from the soles of her feet, hoping that cleaner skin might give her a better grip on the wet rocks. As she made her way forward, she could hear drips deeper in the cave, echoing as they hit the water. It was like being in another world entirely, but she kept telling herself not to be scared: after all, at the first sign of trouble, she could just turn and run back out. Escape was always an option.
"Hello?" she called out. The word immediately echoed all around her, as if the witch had caught her voice and shattered it into a million little pieces.
She waited as the echoes died away.
Her belly gave another twist of pain, as if Ettolrahc was stirring. Charlotte felt certain that by proving her bravery, she could bring her old friend back to life and stop the blood. She just needed to keep going.
When she reached the edge of the rocks and looked down into the water, she knew she should turn around. Still, she'd been hoping to find something a little darker and more unusual, something that absolutely, irrevocably belonged to this new underground world, so she clambered up the side of another rock until she was balanced delicately on the top, looking down into shadows that looked as if they were ready to gobble her up. She wobbled a little, her dirty hands constantly seeking fresh purchase on the rock's dark, wet surface. Using her knees, she turned around a little and peered further back into the cave. The darkness seemed to go on forever, and she was tempted to think that maybe the cave never ended.
"Hello?" she called out again, starting to feel the cold, damp air on her skin. "My name's Charlotte Abernathy! I'm looking for the witch!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew that they sounded stupid and childish, but she still believed that this was the only way she could possibly revive Ettolrahc. Despite the freezing cold of the cave, she hoped that Ettolrahc might suddenly warm her from within.
Spotting another rocky outcrop nearby, she decided to go a little further. She strengthened her grip with one hand, while reaching out with the other to the next rock, hoping to straddle the two and then make a crossing. The job was delicate, and she knew full well that she had to be careful, but after a moment she was able to bridge the two rocks. Maneuvering her knees, she tried to swing one leg out to the other rock, but she found the distance to be a little further than she'd imagined. Pausing for a moment, she realized that she was in a difficult position, and that going backward would be no easier than going forward. Taking another deep breath, she used the tips of her fingers to grip the next rock before reaching over with her other hand. One of the voices in her mind told her to jump, while the other voice told her to be careful. The argument became increasingly heated, and the girl scrunched up her face as she tried to drown them both out, but finally she let out a gasp of frustration.
"Please!" she shouted.
And that's when her knee slipped against the first rock, instantly sending her tumbling down into the darkness below. Within just a couple of seconds, the only sound was the continued dripping of water from the roof of the cave, and it was as if Charlotte had never been there at all.
Part Two
Sinking
Twenty years ago
"Mummy!" Charlotte shouted, her voice filled with pain and fear and tears. "Mummy, help me! Please!"
She waited, gulping at the air as she tried to stay calm. The pain from her snapped ankle had become so intense and overpowering, she could barely even think. All she knew was that she was cold and alone down in the darkness of the cave, and she couldn't understand why her mother was taking so long to find her. Surely she must know? Surely she must have heard her cries?
Reaching down, Charlotte fumbled in the pitch darkness as she ran her fingers down her leg until she reached the site of the immense pain. The tips of her fingers ran against torn, bloodied skin, and suddenly she felt a sharp jolt of pain as her fingertips touched something hard and jagged. A piece of bone was jutting out the side of her ankle.
"Mummy," Charlotte whimpered for a moment, before realizing that whimpering would no good. She needed to be loud. "Mummy!" she screamed at the top of her voice. "Mummy! Help!"
Today
"And the last time you saw Sophie, was... what time exactly?"
Standing in the kitchen, the two police officers had cautious, sympathetic looks on their faces, which Charlotte figured they must have had drummed into them on some kind of sensitivity training course. They were doing a very good job of pretending to be taking the whole situation seriously, even though Charlotte was convinced that they were probably, secretly, finding it hard to deal with Ruth's histrionics. It had only been three hours since Sophie had gone down to play by the river, and Charlotte felt that it had been an overreaction to call the police. Then again, she was also very much aware that her sense of perspective was probably warped.
"I've told you this a thousand times already," Ruth said, fiddling with a tissue as she sat, red-eyed and tear-stained, at the kitchen table. She was filled with a kind of calmness that seemed poised to explode at any moment. "It was lunchtime. My husband was in here making a salad..." She paused for a moment. "My sister, as usual, was flitting about the place, and my mother, as usual, was drinking. It was about half twelve, and Sophie said she was going to go and play." Her voice began to tremble for a moment. "That's all she wanted to do," she continued, with tears rolling down her cheeks. "She wanted to play..."
"And how long was it before you noticed she was missing?" the male police officer asked, writing something in his notebook.
"About ten minutes," Ruth replied, taking a deep breath as she tore pieces off the tissue. "It can't have been more than that. I'm not a bad mother. I just let her play for a few minutes, and then I looked down toward the river, and there was no sign of her."
"I noticed she wasn't there a few minutes earlier," Charlotte added.
"You did what?" Ruth asked, turning to her sister with a shocked look on her face.
"Just a couple of minutes earlier," Charlotte continued hesitantly, wondering if it had been strictly
necessary to make such an admission. "I didn't think anything of it at the time -"
"You didn't think anything of it?" Ruth asked, the anger building in her voice once again. "Are you fucking kidding me? My daughter disappeared from view and you thought there was no reason to mention it?"
"It wasn't just me," I reply, looking over at Tony. "You looked out the window too, remember? You saw she wasn't there!"
Ruth turned to her husband, and it was clear that she was quickly forming the opinion that everyone else was to blame for Sophie's disappearance.
"I might have glanced over," Tony said hesitantly, "but I wasn't exactly looking for her."
"Let's all stay calm," said the female police officer, turning to Charlotte. "When you say a couple of minutes -"
"Two, tops," Charlotte replied. "I just looked out the window and noticed I couldn't see Sophie, but I figured she was just out of sight. You know, behind a tree or something. Doing kid stuff."
"Well that's alright then," Ruth said, fixing her sister with a look of pure hatred. "Maybe that's still where she is, huh? Behind a fucking tree?"
"Ninety per cent of the time," the male officer said, interrupting what was threatening to turn into a full-blown tirade, "children are found very quickly once we've been called in. It's simply a matter of making sure that people in the area are aware of the need to keep an eye out. I want to make it very clear to you that the odds of someone snatching your daughter are very small. Most likely, she's simply wandered off somewhere -"
"Or she's hurt," Ruth interjected.
"We're not ruling anything out," the male officer replied.
"I'm afraid our family doesn't have a very good track record when it comes to missing children," Ruth said bitterly, staring at Charlotte with an expression that made her anger very visible. "Ask my sister."