Charlotte, a six-year-old girl with dark brown skin, dark hair, and freckles, skips along in her yellow dress and white shoes. She clutches a small parcel, determined to deliver it to her aunt’s house just as her mother had instructed.
"I’ll be back before sunset, Mama, I promise!"
Charlotte laughs with her cousins, building towers from wooden blocks and chasing each other in circles. Time slips away quickly, her promise forgotten in the flurry of play.
"Let’s see who can stack the highest without it falling!"
Charlotte realizes with a jolt that her aunt is gone and she has stayed too late. Her heart pounds as she grabs her things and hurries out the door, the world suddenly much larger and more confusing than before.
"I should’ve left earlier… Mama will be so worried," she whispers, her voice trembling as she steps into the darkness.
The old woman, tall and imposing with dark skin, bald head, and dressed in a long black gown with a matching head scarf, emerges from the darkness. She regards Charlotte with a piercing gaze, her eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"You look lost, child. Come, rest at my house and leave for home when the sun returns," she says with a strangely soothing tone.
"I… I’m tired and hungry," Charlotte replies, her fear dulled by exhaustion.
At first, Charlotte tries to relax as she nibbles on stale bread and sips lukewarm tea. But she soon notices how the old woman bolts the doors and moves objects to block the exits, her eyes never leaving Charlotte for long.
"Why is she locking everything? Why won’t she let me leave?" Charlotte wonders, anxiety rising in her chest.
Driven by curiosity and dread, Charlotte tiptoes into the room, her breath catching as she sees strange symbols painted on the walls and a clutter of jars filled with odd substances. A pile of small shoes—much like her own—sits in the corner. Just as she spies a ring of keys on the bedside table, a hand clamps down on her shoulder.
"Naughty girl! You shouldn’t pry into things that don’t concern you," the old woman hisses, her voice twisted with anger. In a burst of courage, Charlotte bites her hand and dashes for the door, adrenaline surging through her veins.
Charlotte[/@ch_1]’s cheeks as she sprints through the darkened streets, clutching the stolen key. Tears blur her vision, but her determination sharpens her senses. She remembers her mother’s gentle voice, repeating the directions home for just such an emergency.]
Charlotte retraces her steps, counting landmarks and murmuring her mother’s instructions. Relief floods her as familiar sights come into view—a blue mailbox, the old oak tree, the welcoming light of her own porch.
Charlotte[/@ch_1]’s house stands quiet except for the sound of her mother’s quiet sobs drifting through the window.]
Charlotte rushes inside, sobbing as she leaps into her mother’s arms. Their embrace is tight and tearful, filled with apology and relief.
"I’m so sorry, Mama. I’ll never wander off again. I promise I’ll always come home on time,"
Her mother wipes away her tears, holding her close as they bask in the safety of a new day.
