She pulled open the heavy oak door of Perry’s Travel Arrangements just wide enough for her slim frame to slip inside. One pale hand reached beneath the hood of her cloak to tug nervously at a few strands of curly honey-brown hair. It fell limply to her side almost immediately in sync with widening gray-blue eyes at the sight of the sizeable granite stones that the back wall was made of. She shook her head, desperate to not slip back into the past, for it was vital that she talk to Perry as soon as possible. However, her shuddering was to no avail, fog seemed to descend upon Lydia’s vision and then the store disappeared, overcome by visions of the past.
The stone walls of the fireplace were rough, but Lydia couldn’t care less about how comfortable her current quarters were. All that truly mattered was the safety of her family and herself. “We have searched all rooms and collected all inhabitants we found. Anything else you want me to do Chief?” A sob caught in her throat as she watched the forms of her mother and father collapse on the dirt floor of the living room next to her eight year old brother. It had been difficult enough not to come to his aid when hands had dragged George form the base of the fireplace. She had simply pulled herself further up the chimney in an effort to stay undiscovered and able to save him. But now, with most of those close to her heart found, her self-control was tested on a whole new level. The second intruder now stepped forward, revealing tanned skin, eyes like the depths of the forest, and jet black hair. He opened up his mouth and began to talk in broken English. “The woman and boy will be… useful, take them with us. I have no use for the other… dispose of him.” With a muffled shriek of despair, Lydia ducked her head moments too late, for she had already seen the rifle raised, aimed at her father, and the bullet find his head.
“No! Dad, answer me please! DAD!!” sobs racked her body. She rolled around, kicking and screaming, but it was getting harder and harder to move. Suddenly, a comforting hand began to stroke her hair and helped to calm her down. “Lydia, my child. Stop your weeping, it was all only a terrible dream.”