The Meeting

I woke up to find myself in an open casket with my hands holding a rose in a dark, hardly-lit room. I sat up and even though it was pretty dark, I could still make out what i was wearing; it definitely wasn’t the outfit I had on before. It appeared to be a red Victorian ball gown. I raise my violet eyes and turn to the small table stand next to the casket. I reach my arm out to grab the candle, swing my legs over, and hop off. I put the candle in my right hand and try to conceal the flame with my left.

I start to walk around the room while calling out, “Grandfather George can you hear me? Are you here!” Sadly, I don’t receive a response. I keep yelling though, hoping he is there, or at least close by. After a few minutes of yelling, my throat starts to hurt. I stop and lose any hope I had of hearing his voice, and then start to find a door while trying to remember how I came to be here.

All I could remember was that I was at my grandfather’s house. The reason why I was there was because he had called me the other day and asked if I could meet up and talk about the will, since he was getting on in years. I helped him with a few things until he asked me if I wanted a glass of Rosemary wine. I politely refused, but he kept on persisting, saying that it was tradition to drink with your family. I sighed and finally agreed to one glass and one glass only.

He went to the kitchen. I asked if he needed any assistance , but he just smiled and said, “No, just sit tight. I’ll be right back.” Two minutes went by and he came back carrying a tray with a bottle and two wine-filled glasses with ruby red liquid inside. He put them on the clear glass table very gently in order to not crack the glass. I smiled and thanked him, raising the glass up to my lips and breathing in the winter berry smell and flower fragrance.

Before I took a sip, my grandfather raised his glass and said, “A toast to you, my oldest grandchild, the one who will inherit my fortune. I have best hopes that you shall do great things with it, and I hope that after I’m gone you live a longer life than I have.” We clinked glasses and drank.

As soon as the wine went down my throat, my legs felt weak. I started to feel light-headed and fell onto the floor as darkness surrounded me.

Ten minutes passed with me helplessly looking for some sort of exit, until finally I found a doorknob. I put the candle down, and start to twist the knob and push the door open, and I was welcomed by the sun glaring down at me. I cover my eyes with my arms. I put my arms down and see a forest; nothing but a forest and burnt down buildings.

I’ve been walking in this forest for at least three hours, and there is no sign of any human life. At this point I’m almost completely dehydrated. Then, by some miracle from God himself, I spot a lake. Without thinking I run over, almost tripping a few times. I drop down to my knees, bend over, and accidentally fall into the lake.

I swim back up to the surface, take a deep breath, and open my eyes to find myself back in bed, in my dorm room, covered in sweat. I get out of bed and rush to the window. It was night time. I look down to see that the dress was gone and I was wearing my pajamas. I figured that it was all just a bad dream, but as I kept thinking about the dream and about the part where I almost died, I decided that I wasn’t going to go to that meeting with my grandfather tomorrow after all.

My name is Aili O'Neill, I’m 15 years old and was born on February 16th, 2004. Writing is a talent and passion that I've known since I was a little kid, as my family said I always had a wild imagination; and combine that with a piece of paper and a pencil, and you've got yourself a book. Genres I usually write are romance, horror, adventure, and fantasy.

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