The Place On The Other Side

The Cottage and Trees

There was a small bench near an old vine covered well to the left of her. To her right, to her astonishment there were three gravestones protruding out of the ground. She had not seen these in the dark when she arrived last night, Dolyia set down the bucket and headed over to the stones. The largest of the three was written out to a man named.

　　"Graden Molent", "Beloved Father, and Husband", "Born 1687-Died 1898"..

　　~That doesn’t make sense; the dates show that he was 211 years old when he died.~ Dolyia thought to herself as she began to read the next stone.

　　The name was "Herinda Molent" "Loved Mother and Wife of G. M.", "Born 1697-Died 1897"..

　　Dolyia's mouth dropped open. Another 200 year old person lay here. Dolyia was confused, to say the least. Most people lived an average of 45-65 years old during these times. The third and last stone read,

　　"Finsade Molent", "Son of G.M. & H.M.", "Born 1727-Died 1827".

　　Dolyia finished reading the stones then sat on another bench next to the grave stones, thinking first how could those people live to be so old. Second, she thought why did their son only live to be 100 when his parents lived much longer after his death. And why did they live so far out here in these woods? None of it made sense to her. She then remembered that she was supposed to be getting water.

At the well it was full of fresh clear water, to Dolyia’s amazement. After filling her bucket up and heading back into the house, she started the kettle on the hook and set the leaves into it. She then filled another bucket and placed it in a pot on the stove to boil for washing up. After getting the fire in the stove heated up and rolling she took the tea off the hook.

　　Dolyia felt the place needed a little tidying up, so while she let her tea steep and her water boil, she found a broom and started sweeping the cottage. Once she was finished with the cleaning she sat and drank her tea and ate a few peaches for breakfast. Then she took her warm water and washed up in the washroom. At this point she had no idea what she was to do, never being in a position of control of her own actions and chores she had a sudden rush of excitement and feeling of freedom. She had decided to explore the skirts of the meadow for the rest of the morning until around lunch time she realized she was starting to have hunger pains.

　　With this feeling she went inside, grabbed up her bucket and shawl and set out to scavenge for food. She found the trail of golden moss and decided to stay along that path no matter what, knowing it led back to the safety of her little cottage. Dolyia managed to find several types of mushroom and dandelions, but what really caught her attention was the new trail she hadn’t seen last night. The trees were covered in a light purple pink moss facing due west from where she stood. It was about a ten minutes walk away from the meadow entrance. She decided against exploring it today, and turned back to the cottage.

　　That night she felt a strange pulling feeling, a feeling that was calling her to find out what was down that path. She made her supper and some dandelion tea, and sat at the end of the bed, noticing a small foot locker under the side table against the wall. She bent down and opened the trunk, inside there were a few tattered books and tons of old parchment paper with fading words. There were a few odd and ins, and a tiny box which contained a locket necklace and a beautiful ring, and a tiara with diamonds and gems in it. Among the papers there were several love letters written to Graden from his wife and from Graden to Herinda.

　　There were some sad ones and happy ones, but the one that made Dolyia sit and read fully was one about their son. It was about the day he died, many bits of the words were hard to make out and it was all confusing. From what she could make out, Graden had killed his son and Herinda wanted to leave, but Graden wouldn't let her. It seemed as though Herinda lived here in the cottage while Graden was out somewhere else. And it also seemed that Herinda did not lead a very happy life after their son was born. Dolyia was now so tired from reading and looking through the trundle she decided to get some sleep.

　　She did not sleep well that night, tossing and turning, dreaming of the family who once lived here and the tragic things they endured. She had awoken early the next morning to the sun rise blinding her as she sat up in bed. Wishing she hadn't found the letters and trinkets she got up still feeling tired and started her morning routine. After eating and having some warm tea, she washed up for the day and started to feel happier again. Outside Dolyia explored the skirts of the meadow and picked lots of bright flowers for the cottage.

　　The morning light was fading to a dim afternoon shine. The meadow was dry and clear. Dolyia decided it was time to see where that new path led. She packed up her bag and wrapped her shawl around herself and set off. Not knowing she might not see the cottage again. She found the trail with the purple pink moss quickly noting where she was going due to her small ribbons she tied around the tiny trees to mark her path. And headed down the trail with a strong feeling of greatness, and excitement. As Dolyia walked along this new path she couldn't help but notice several odd things around her. The sparkles on the trees and leaves, the scuttling of small critters near the trail floor, the birds singing in a way she'd never heard before, the wind felt light and smelled sweet.

　　Everything around her felt so inviting and warm, She had no idea how long she'd been walking until she reached a split, to the right lay the purple pink moss trail and to the left there was black moss on trees. She pressed forward to the left but stopped instantly as a rush of dread and a horrible constricting feeling filled her up. Dolyia knew right away that was not a path to take at all costs. Instead she continued down the original trail, humming as she walked. When out of the blue there was a hard tug on the hem of her dress, she knew that it was probably the chipmunk again and looked down. Instead it was a bird, a normal bird tugging her dress trying to pull her toward the left of the trail off the path. She let the bird guide her onward. Not knowing where she was going or why this bird was pulling her, she still felt like it was okay and knew not to worry. She was wrong.

Dolyia found herself heading towards to black moss trail. She started to tug against the bird's grip, finding it harder than it should have been.

　　"It's a normal bird, why can't I stop him?" Dolyia said aloud.

　　Now starting to worry and feel fear she yanked and pulled at her dress until finally she fell to the ground with a thud and looked up to see the bird flying away. She noticed she was only a few feet from the black moss path. Not sure where she was and which direction the bird had pulled her from she was now very scared and worried as to what to do. Just then she saw him, the small chipmunk who helped her find the meadow.

　　"Hey you, little guy, could you please help me find my way back to the purple pink moss trail?" Dolyia asked.

　　 He did not answer but simply trotted away heading behind her. She took that as a yes and followed him, he led her back to the purple pink moss trail and disappeared before she had a chance to thank him for helping her a second time. At this point Dolyia decided to head back to the cottage, but that’s when her biggest adventure began. She would never have thought she'd be leaving this world but to her surprise she didn't know yet that her destiny awaits her.

　　Back at the cottage she had another rough night tossing and turning, this time dreaming of what lies beyond the two trails. Where does the purple pink moss path end and why did that bird try to get her to go down the black moss path. She finally drifted into a deep dreamless sleep around the early hours of the morning before the sun rose. She woke up later that next morning, got herself dressed, washed up, and ate the last bit of food she had found. She drank some of the tea she made the night before and packed the rest of her belongings in her backpack. She had decided while sitting next to the grave stones later that morning that she was going to leave for good and find out what lies at the end of the purple pink moss path.

　　She shut everything up and put out the fires and left a note on the table saying thank you for all the help she had received during her time there. As she went off, leaving the cottage and the meadow behind her, she set off down the golden path to where it split into the purple pink moss trail. Dolyia found the start of the purple pink moss path, and took her first steps to a whole new beginning that she had no clue about. The trail felt short but it just kept going, she was seeing and hearing the animals around her again, and the sparkles seemed to be thicker and more of them this time.

　　It all felt so magical to Dolyia, she even thought she was dreaming in the cottage again, until she caught her arm on a twig giving her a tiny spurt of pain. Which brought her back to reality and that's when she realized she was nearing the end of the path.

There just about 10 feet in front of her stood a very large tree. It had all different colors of moss spread completely around, up and down the tree. Dolyia had guessed it was maybe 6 feet around and over 100 feet tall, the leaves were massive and bright greens and oranges. The branches coming from the sides and top were all bent in funny ways and sticking out of the trunk in awkward positions. She couldn't help but feel this need to touch it, a pulling sensation she couldn't hold back. Then the Chipmunk popped out from the base of the tree.

　　"You, Dolyia, you need to come with me now. It is time you got started," said the creature, disappearing as soon as she heard him.

　　She looked around everywhere, but he was nowhere in sight. She wasn't entirely sure but she thought she saw the base of the tree wiggle, almost like a ripple in water. Had she imagined it again, did the animal actually speak to her? Of course she didn't though, after everything that has happened to Dolyia so far has convinced her there's something special out there.

　　Again the chipmunk spoke from out of nowhere. "Hey, Dolyia, touch the tree, you don't have much time left, touch it now."

　　Dolyia looked down to find the chipmunk's head sticking out of the tree and his other half in the tree with the ripples around his waist area. Surprised and slightly taken aback from this sight, she still did as she was told. Reaching her hand out, with a little bit of a shake in her fingers she touched the tree flat handed with her palm. It was a cool feeling and kind of tingly against her fingertips, the tree's whole trunk started to ripple as if she was stepping into a pond or puddle. The ripple got bigger and bigger and before Dolyia realized what had happened, she was falling into nothingness.