《Timbersnake Falls》 Chapter 1. It had been months of arduous planning, dress fittings, cake tastings, scheduling every moment of the special day down to the millisecond. Her mother¡¯s constant texts and calls, ensuring every single aspect went to plan. From the engagement, to the engagement party, to the bridal shower, to the bachelor party. From the rehearsal, to the ceremony, to the reception. Each day began the same way for Aspen. She¡¯d open her eyes to dawn breaking behind her faded yellow curtains. Her phone, vibrating incessantly beside her head would take her attention, the few moments of peace of morning ripped away without a second thought. She¡¯d slide her thumb along the bottom of the screen, accepting a call she couldn¡¯t be less interested to take. And then her day would start. ¡°Are you sure lavender is the right choice for the bridesmaid dresses? You don¡¯t want to come off tacky. You¡¯re starting your new life in just a few weeks, do you really want to start it by being unoriginal?¡± Beatrice would start every conversation this way, and Aspen would always respond, ¡°I¡¯ll fix it.¡± It wasn¡¯t just her mother¡¯s watchful eye that made the six month process unbearable, however. Her fianc¨¦¡¯s attitude was nonchalant, a complete opposite from her mother. Convincing the two of them that the wedding planning was exactly where they both wanted it to be was virtually impossible. ¡°Babe, uh¡­¡± Jordan would start. ¡°This isn¡¯t going to be like, super formal, right? You know I like to keep things small. I want this to be fun for me, too.¡± And Aspen would always respond. ¡°I¡¯ll fix it.¡± She wasn¡¯t happy, she knew she wasn¡¯t. But Jordan was safe, and his parents had the capital. Once they were married, she¡¯d be able to live a life of comfort, never worrying for money again. The marriage would finally appease her mother, who very publicly viewed her daughter as an unremarkable young woman. Aspen had grown up on ¡°the bad side of town,¡± nowhere, Florida. Her parents had very little money, and her father left when she was young. Due to her good looks and lucky happenstance, Aspen¡¯s mother Beatrice found a rich husband in her late thirties, but by that time, Aspen was an adult and moved out. She did what she could to provide for herself, living in a tiny apartment, eating mostly prepared food and working late nights at a bar. She didn¡¯t love bartending, but it paid the bills. That was, until she served a certain handsome, wealthy young man named Jordan. He fell in love in a matter of seconds, and within a few months, she was living in his home in St. Augustine, working only a shift or two a week. Though he had insisted she didn¡¯t need to work, she needed it for her independence. Day after day, Aspen would add what her mother strongly suggested, and cancel what her fianc¨¦ didn¡¯t want a part of. Jordan, unlike Aspen, was fine with their less than romantic relationship. He had what he wanted, a beautiful woman to stand by his side, to post pictures of on his social media, to create the illusion of a perfect life for others to view and feel envious of. The slow build-up of stress drew Aspen closer and closer to the offer that had been made the year prior. She had cast away the opportunity immediately upon opening the letter, but its ominous promise began to creep closer and closer to the forefront of her mind. Like a snake slithering to its destination, hidden by the growth of the forest floor, completely undetected by its prey. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Except the snake was a crazy person, and instead of eating its prey, it offered her an escape route. It happened the night before the wedding, as emotional outbursts often do. Aspen stressed over details at Jordan¡¯s kitchen table, an object that would soon become half hers. The thought made her cringe. Her face was drained of color, jaw clenched as she typed harshly on her crappy old laptop. Jordan¡¯s new $1200 laptop sat across the room from her, unused, but the thought of picking it up as if it was her own made her sick to her stomach. She typed in the search bar, desperate for a reprieve from her anxiety. Pre-wedding fears She clicked on the first article. ¡°Feeling nervous about your upcoming wedding? We can help. Ten helpful tips for calming your pre-wedding jitters.¡± Breathing a sigh of relief as she read the title, Aspen sat back to scroll. At least she wasn¡¯t the only one who felt like this. She scrolled down on the page. ¡°1. Take a breath. Breathing deep and slow can help calm your nervous system.¡± She rolled her eyes at this obvious tip. ¡°2. Talk to a friend. Express your fears and let it all out.¡± ¡°3. Remember why you love him. You made this decision for a reason.¡± With no close friends to turn to, and no recent love to remember, Aspen was stuck. She ran her fingers through her dusty red hair. She continued to scroll, obvious ¡°hacks¡± to feeling better that did absolutely nothing for her nerves. ¡°10. If you haven¡¯t felt any relief, reread that letter.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± She whispered, blinking hard to make sure she read it correctly. She leaned into the screen. ¡°10. Take care of yourself, put your health first. Make sure to drink enough water, eat, and get enough sleep.¡± Aspen looked around the empty house. She was so sure at that moment that she had read those words, but she was exhausted, stressed, and feeling hopeless. It was likely that she had misread those words. She cleared her browser history and closed the top, her hand coming to the top of the laptop to close it when a flash on the desktop caught her eye. A little faded purple envelope icon now sat on her desktop. Her green eyes went wide as she slammed it shut. Aspen stood from her chair in a rush, pushing it back with a loud scrape. It was then that Jordan entered through the front door, following the sound of keys scraping against a lock clumsily. She watched as her drunken fianc¨¦ fell through the doorway. ¡°Babe, you wouldn¡¯t believe the night I had!¡± He exclaimed. He crossed the floor to her, lacking grace in every single step. He leaned in and took Aspen¡¯s hands in his. ¡°I am just¡­ so lucky to have you.¡± He slurred. Aspen looked to the floor and then back up to Jordan. Looking into his stormy grey eyes, the way his brunette bangs fell in front of his face, the perfectly sculpted jaw and collarbones, she was reminded of why she said yes in the first place. In the first month they saw each other, butterflies fluttered in her stomach and chest every time his grey eyes landed on hers. They danced in clubs, they picnicked at the beach, they attended fancy movies and gatherings. She loved his company, his brutish lack of complication, his ability to be happy in many different situations, and the way he loved to show her off. Romance faded in the months after. He spent more time alone. He invited her out less, but he still went. His friends always seemed to hold their tongues around her. Their dates dwindled and dwindled until it was rare to have more than one in a month. But he was still kind to her when he was around, and he seemed perfectly content with what he had. Was she the crazy one for feeling unfulfilled? Jordan¡¯s romantic skills picked up when she began to worry about their relationship. He asked her on dates again, but it wasn¡¯t quite the same. It was the past June that he asked her to dinner at a nice restaurant, followed by a stroll on the beach. She could remember vividly the way he took her hand and dropped to his knee. And for a little while, things felt good again. But she didn¡¯t feel the butterflies anymore. Standing before her in his wobbly state, Jordan looked entirely content, and it made Aspen feel more sick. Thankfully, Jordan would feel the same way as his stomach emptied itself on the floor beside her. She jumped out of the way to avoid the mess. Aspen stifled an exasperated laugh. This wasn¡¯t the first time he overindulged on alcohol with his friends, it wasn¡¯t even the first time in two weeks. He partied without her the night before their wedding and acted like it was a great shared experience. She cleaned him up and put him to bed, and it was then that she decided this was the last time. It was time to open that letter for the first time since she¡¯d received it a year prior. Chapter 2. Shaking hands pulled open the cherry wood drawer that held the letter. Beneath a notebook, loose scraps of paper and office supplies sat the lavender envelope, once sealed neatly with a golden wax stamp. It had only ever been read once, time and the weight of various office objects resealing the wax like it had never been read in the first place. She hadn¡¯t told her fianc¨¦ about the letter, almost entirely sure that the note was complete garbage, the penned out ramblings of an old man, but she couldn¡¯t bear the thought of Jordan¡¯s mocking tone. Slowly and quietly, as to not draw attention to herself, Aspen peeled open the envelope, the unsealed wax giving way to the paper contents. Pausing a moment to consider her options, to decide if rereading the letter of an elderly, possibly delusional man was a good idea. A man who had abandoned everything he knew to live on what was believed to be a commune, a man who had cut off contact with the rest of his family. Aspen drew a deep breath, before deciding that it was only a letter, and nothing bad could come of simply reading it. My dearest granddaughter, I am writing you this letter to apologize, to let you know that my leaving was a choice made of sound mind and careful consideration. The time for me to leave has come, and the opportunity has presented itself. Perhaps this note will sound rushed, random - maybe deluded, but you must know somewhere deep down that people like us will never be happy in places like that. Florida, obviously. Maybe even normal society as a whole. I don¡¯t know. Look, there comes a time when we all must move on in our lives, but please read my words carefully right now. You will never be happy there. You will search for contentment in the arms of polite society. Maybe you¡¯ll have a good job, a harmless boyfriend, maybe even a new family. But you and I both know that you will always be searching for ¡°enough¡± and you won¡¯t find it there. When you decide to make the best of your life, come find me. 42 Clover Lane, Timbersnake Falls, VT, 05824. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I¡¯ll be waiting. Best, Grandpa The words gripped Aspen¡¯s heart with claws, a sense of guilt flooding her body. She wondered for the first time if her grandfather was still alive. What kind of granddaughter left her crazy grandfather alone like this? What if the letter was a cry for help? Adrenaline flooded her body as she stuffed the note in her pocket, the envelope drifting lazily to the floor. The decision tugged both sides of her heart. Marrying Jordan was a great decision, she would be safe, comfortable, and able to focus on her life¡¯s passions rather than continuing to struggle for every cent. He wasn¡¯t a great partner, but he was never mean to her and he had family money that could send her to every destination she had ever dreamed of. On the other hand, she had missed her grandfather. A real artist and botanist, some of her fondest memories had been with the man. She could recall finger painting outside with her grandparents, splashes and strides of red and green paint decorating her overalls. The activity was followed by a scolding from her mother, but eight year old Aspen couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Do you know how much these overalls cost me? When you buy your own clothes, you can ruin them.¡± Her mother scolded. She hadn¡¯t much cared for the arts, but the passion Aspen held was matched only by her grandfather. Maybe he was crazy, just like her mother had suggested, but maybe he was just an artist. Maybe he was just a sensitive soul who understood the value in making a good mess. Aspen remembered learning to care for plants in the makeshift greenhouse behind her grandfather¡¯s small property. She remembered the feel of the dirt, the tiny insects crawling around, the way the water droplets dripped down leaves and stems in the morning. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she could smell the warm, damp soil, and she felt safe. Determination set, Aspen strode to the hall closet, withdrawing her old beat-up backpack. With a steady pace, she took it to the laundry room and stuffed what little she could from the selection in the dryer. Then, she threw her crappy old laptop in with the chargers for it and her phone. Her wallet and keys were already in the backpack, and with the addition of her hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste, she was on her way. Standing the threshold she felt a sense of relief, but also another wave of guilt. Sneaking out in the middle of the night? Jordan deserved a little better than this, but she wasn¡¯t going to wake him up, knowing he was still drunk and groggy. She scribbled a note on a scrap of paper and left it on the dining room table under a small potted aloe plant. Jordan I can¡¯t take this anymore, we aren¡¯t compatible. I think you know that as well as I do. A marriage of convenience is not right for me, so I¡¯m leaving. Feel free to keep anything I¡¯ve left behind. Take care of yourself, Aspen Perhaps she was being cowardly, but it wasn¡¯t going to stop her from leaving. The relief she had felt when she allowed herself to remember the best of her childhood was a high she¡¯d continue to chase, for as long as she could. Having no contact with her grandfather, she could only hope that he was still alive, healthy and able to hold her hand as she navigated her new reality. With a final look in the lavish St. Augustine home, Aspen said goodbye to her dreams of luxury. She said goodbye to everything she had known, in search of something better. Chapter 3. Twenty hours. Aspen blinked away the sleep as she lost herself in thought. Her beat up 2010 Subaru Impreza hummed as the tires spun on I-96 to Savannah. Once there, she¡¯d be down two and a half hours and though it felt like a drop in the bucket, she was excited to get there. The first stop, she¡¯d fuel up and grab an energy drink. She could only wish that her epiphany had happened a little earlier in the day. Still, adrenaline persisted as she drove, excited and unsure about the future ahead of her. -$39.68 Aspen sighed, stuffing her debit card back in her ripped up purple wallet. She placed the gas pump back on the holder and shut the gas cap, turning and walking along wet pavement to the fluorescent lit gas station before her. Rain sprinkled gently as she pushed open the doors, eyes adjusting from the pitch black to the extremely well lit gas station store. The clerk watched her curiously as she picked out her energy drink. She knew she looked a little disheveled. Dressed in sweats and a T-Shirt and wrapped in an open flannel, her curly hair a mess and frizzing from the humidity, she looked like most who entered the gas station at this hour. Wait, what time is it? Aspen looked to the clock on the wall, it was one in the morning. She sighed and rolled her shoulders back, her back cracking as she did so. She placed the energy drink can on the counter and watched as her bank account lost another $3.50. She pulled up her bank account on her phone, checking it¡¯s measly balance of $256.35. It would take another $200 roughly to get to her destination, and if it wasn¡¯t even a real place, she would be¡­ absolutely fucked. Realization dawned on her as she walked back to her car. She sat down and sunk into the fabric seat, tilting her head back and shutting her eyes. Her head dropped forward into her hands as she squeezed her eyes shut harder. ¡°What am I doing?¡± She asked, heat rushing to her face. She felt the familiar prick of tears in her eyes as the need to release pressure built up and up. Her world began to spin, doubts and worry swirling like storm clouds. It wasn¡¯t too late to turn around, to return back to familiar territory. She felt the letter in her pocket as she shifted her leg, it felt like a traitor now. Loud knocks on her windows snapped her back into reality as she turned with wide eyes. There stood a police officer, shining a light into her car, staring at her with a mix of suspicion and concern. ¡°Roll the window down for me, miss?¡± He asked. His voice was much gentler than she had expected. She rolled down the window reluctantly. ¡°Can I help you?¡± She asked shakily, eyes puffy with tears. ¡°I could ask you the same.¡± He responded, lowering the flashlight. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± She said, clearing her throat and mustering up a smile. ¡°Just a little overwhelmed tonight.¡± ¡°What are you doing out so late?¡± He asked. ¡°I¡¯m headed to visit my grandfather.¡± She replied. ¡°At one in the morning?¡± Aspen let out a light chuckle. ¡°Yeah.¡± The police officer looked at Aspen curiously, eyes scanning the inside of the car for any sign of drugs, weapons or the like, any indication of illegal activity. He saw nothing but a girl, a backpack, and an energy drink, and shrugged. ¡°Just,¡± He said. ¡°Don¡¯t be driving all emotional, ok? It clouds your judgement.¡± The officer lingered for a moment. ¡°And¡­ you¡¯re doing the right thing, going to the right place.¡± Aspen¡¯s brow furrowed as she considered his words, too stunned to stop him before he hopped back in his cruiser and left the gas station. Surely he wasn¡¯t referencing her abandoning the life she knew. The interaction, though odd, had calmed her down, oddly. She popped open the energy drink and put the car in reverse, ready to continue on. The night moved along with her Subaru, and as she reached the quarterway point of the trip, she realized what a liability her phone was. A run down and mostly abandoned electronics trading store offered her $200 for her phone, minus the SIM card. The sale increased her total money to $419.03. Her isolation was proving to be quite useful after all. Throughout the day, Aspen¡¯s account drained with gas, fast food and copious amounts of caffeine. As she entered New England at the end of the day, she felt hopeful. It was colder outside, dryer, and though she looked and felt physically the worst she had in a while, she was hopeful. Vermont was around the corner, and if this mysterious town her grandfather wrote about turned out to be a figment of his imagination, it wouldn¡¯t be so bad to relocate to the cold state. The sun set and the skies grew darker, but Aspen made it to northern Vermont with her old car, busted backpack and eight empty cans of energy drinks on the floor in her vehicle. Her heart rate increased as she found herself getting closer and closer. Soon she stopped at a quaint gas station for her last fill up. She purchased a map, another energy drink and a plastic wrapped mini cake, a treat for her hard work. She stretched her sore limbs as she placed her items on the counter for the cashier. The cashier was an older woman with curly hair, softened features and a hard demeanor. ¡°You look lost, sweetheart.¡± She said, though it was more of an accusation than an expression of concern. ¡°I¡¯m not, thank you.¡± The woman chuckled. ¡°Nobody buys maps anymore. Seriously, where are you headed?¡± Aspen shifted uncomfortably with the pressure. The woman¡¯s eyes seemed to bore into her. ¡°Timbersnake Falls.¡± She answered reluctantly. The name seemed to strike something within the cashier, her slow movements halting as she rang up the items. ¡°And what business do you have there?¡± She asked, glaring down at her. ¡°My grandfather invited me.¡± The woman took a short breath and continued to ring up her items, handing them back to her without a bag. ¡°Can I get a bag?¡± Aspen asked. ¡°Ten cents for bags here, sweetheart.¡± Aspen paused for a moment before grabbing her items. Ten cents for a bag? Bags are meant to be free. She thought. ¡°Oh, and¡­¡± The woman called, as Aspen was almost out the door. ¡°Everyone is excitedly awaiting your arrival.¡± A shiver ran down her spine as she listened to the woman¡¯s words and watched as she looked back down to the counter, as if she hadn¡¯t just said something absurd. A new sense of confusion flooded Aspen as she reentered her car. She thought back to the website and the cryptic message, the police officer in Savannah, and the instance just now. It was all so weird combined. Was she just that tired and stressed? She shook the thoughts from her head as she examined the map. ¡°Fifteen miles to go.¡± She whispered under her breath.