Charlotte

A child's room. The walls painted a pastel pink, a butterfly motif dividing the wall half-way up. The carpet, a plush blue, bits of red and green lego scattered everywhere. The neatly made bed, the covers folded down half-way, a stuffed purple rabbit propped haphazardly against the pillow, his goofy grin seeming blank. Gentle breezes stirred the curtains, the pale red rose design billowing against the dresser, obscuring the framed photgraph of a brown-haired girl with gray eyes sitting atop a fat pony. Outside the sounds of people going to and fro mingled with the buzzing bees and the chirping of the birds.

The slow creak, creak of a rocking chair. An elderly man, gray hairs rapidly receeding from his head, wreathed lines pulling dark creases around his mouth and eyes. Hands grip the arm-rests, slippered feet pushing off the floor with each forward movement. Brown eyes stare straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to what was happening around him. Thoughts tumbled through his mind and almost automatically he stood up, shuffling across the blue carpet and out the door. An over-whelming sense of poverty radiated from the rest of the house, discarded wrappers and newspapers littered the floor. He paid no attention to his surroundings, instead continuing on to a more delapidated room and there he sat on the faded blue bed-spread, frowning for a moment before opening the side draw, the dresser old and battered, paint flakes peeling off. A black, leather-bound diary, a tarnished photo of the same girl, a condom, unopend and a charm bracelet which glimmered in the faint light.

Running a hand across his eyes he opened the diary to a page, black letters staring out at him. " Charlotte, 11:15am." Tracing a finger over his own spidery writing he slipped the photo inside before gently closing the diary and replacing it back in the draw. Withered and gnarled hands clutch the condom and braclet to his chest as he slowly shuffles back to the child's room, draping the braclet over the purple rabbit and retreating to the chair, hands sliding the condom into the pocket of his faded blue shorts. The creaking starts up again, the clock ticks over to 11:15am and this time a distinct voice is heard outside the window. "Charlotte! Don't forget to give Grandpa the muffins I baked."