Chapter 1: Finding Out the Truth.
Charlotte Blake never knew her parents. She had grown up without them, never knowing what her father's smile was like, or if her laugh was anything like her mothers. She wondered if her father told corny jokes, she longed to hear them talking to each other in the kitchen after dinner, asking her how her day was or what was new. But she never had that. Instead she had grown up with her aunt and uncle, Octavia and Lincoln.
At 16 Charlotte was always getting into trouble and giving her aunt a headache. They lived in a small town in Virginia right outside of DC where her aunt worked at the capitol and her uncle worked as an independent contractor around the city.
Charlotte loved her aunt and uncle very much, but they had one tragic flaw that she couldn't stand. They wouldn't talk about her parents. Ever. And any time she brought it up her aunt would tear up or get angry and leave the room. Leaving Charlotte with her quiet uncle to tiptoe around her questions with answers like "they loved you very much" or "you wouldn't understand" then he would leave the room to find Octavia, and Charlotte was always left with more questions than answers. She wanted so bad to know who they were, what happened to them, and why they weren't here to raise her. Part of her was very angry at them all the time, but the little girl in her really just wanted her mom and dad. She wanted to know that they cared about her.
It was Friday morning and Charlotte woke up early like she always. She always hoped that one of her parents were the same way; early riser, late to bed. She sighed, pushing away the thoughts that she knew she would never be answered and walked over to the mirror. Her long brown wavy hair was a mess freckles scattered her nose and face, and her bright blue eyes were even brighter in the morning sun as it shone in through the window. She quickly got dressed and and pulled her hair into a twist. Taking two pieces from the front and twisting them to the back of her head. Almost like a crown. She checked herself in the mirror and gave a happy sigh. She made her way downstairs and instantly smelt coffee filling the house. She smiled slightly and walked into the kitchen finding her aunt up, dressed, and ready for work.
"Morning" she said as she poured herself a cup and added cream and sugar.
"Morning sweetie" her aunt answered looking up from the paperwork she had been reading, "no school today, teacher workday" Charlotte smiled, excited that she didn't have school, since her spring break was next week the teachers were taking the day to finish up grades, "unfortunately I still have to work." Octavia gave a dramatic sigh looking at Charlotte and rolling her eyes.
"The duties of the secretaries assistant are never finished!" Charlotte said placing a dramatic hand over her head and sighing heavily. Her aunt snorted and got up from her chair.
"You are so dramatic" she laughed, "just like... Hey you know what, how about I get home early tonight and we'll have a girls night! Me, you, lots of sweets, and some old movies?" Charlotte could tell she was about to mention one of her parents, but she knew better by now to press further.
"Yeah, that sounds like fun Aunt O. What about Uncle Lincoln? What's he gonna do?"
"Your uncle has a job in Richmond and he will be gone all weekend.
"Girls weekend it is!" Charlotte said with a smile.
"So what are you going to do today?" Octavia asked her niece as she rinsed her breakfast plate.
"Not sure. Probable do some reading. Try and get a head start on my english project too."
Octavia smiled proudly at her niece. "Sounds good. Throw in some laundry for me too will yah?"
"Not a problem aunt O" Charlotte called to her aunt who was making her way to the door.
"Okay sweetie, I'll be home around 4. Love you!"
"Love you too!" Charlotte called back as her aunt left the house. Setting the alarm and locking the door behind her. She sighed in comfort, loving having the house to herself. She popped some bread in the toaster and made her way to the table. Picking up the paper that she assumed her uncle had left. The front page had a mug shot of a man on it. The headline reading: Escaped! And under the picture was a brief synopsis:
a man accused of murder had escaped from the state penitentiary. Be on the lookout and notify authorities immediately if you seem him! Proceed with caution!
Charlotte shuttered at the thought and went to the door to make sure her aunt had set the alarm. That's when a loud bang rang out through the house, causing Charlotte to jump and run for the kitchen, arming herself with the first thing she could get her hands on, a large knife sitting in the dish drainer that her uncle had used last night to cut up dinner. Another bang made Charlotte jump again, not sure exactly what to do. She could call her aunt, but if someone was already in the house it wouldn't do her any good. She began to make her way to the source of the banging, traveling slowly up the stairs as she listened to the banging continue. After a few brief moments of silence the banging began again. Louder and more frantic this time. Charlotte made we way down the hallway and found that it was coming from the attic. Charlotte took the knife in her hand and held it up, waiting for another crash to ring out. When one finally did she jumped, jumping up and pulling on the string that opened the attic door, she charged her way up the stairs.
"COME OUT!" she yelled out holding the knife up, there was another crash, Charlotte stood tall on the attic floor and began to move towards the sound. Another crash. Charlotte got closer, another bang. Closer. Bang. That's when a box fell over in front of her, spilling its contents. She jumped slightly but continued forward. Only rustling could be heard now and charlotte leaned over another box to get a better look, there on the ground was a bird; its tail stuck under a large box it had knocked over. She let out a long breath of relief and went to help the bird.
"Okay buddy just hold on a second." Charlotte moved to the window on the far end of that attic, opening it up so the bird could fly away. Then she walked back over to the bird, taking it in her hands and releasing its tail. It struggled slightly in her hands, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She made her way to the window and tossed the bird slightly, watching as it spread its wings and flew away. She closed the window again and locked it, noticing that it was one of the only windows in the house without an alarm sensor on it. She would use that to her advantage later but for not she wanted to make sure it was locked. Charlotte turned around, looking at the mess the bird had made while trapped in the attic. She realized that she had never actually been up in the attic and the surrounding were new.
There were so many boxes up there, more than she had ever seen in her life. There was no way that her aunt and uncle had all this stuff up here. There was a couch in the corner, a dresser, TV stand, a recliner, kitchen chairs and its matching table, lamps and a bed all pushed onto one side of the room, the other was covered in boxed. There was something odd about all that stuff up there. She felt connected to it. Like she had seen it before; lied on that bed and couch colored on the table. She thought maybe it was her aunts old stuff and she just didn't remember it. But if it was, why was ALL of it up here? There was barely enough space to move around up in that attic and enough contents here to fill a small house!
Charlotte made her way over to the open box on the floor, its contents spread around it. She began to refill it when her eyes landed on something odd. A envelope with the name Blake written on the top in dark bold letters. She picked it up slowly, never letting her eyes leave the handwriting on it, and walked over to the couch on the other side of the room. She didn't know what to think of the envelope and she wasn't sure how long she looked at it before opening it. Inside she found four pictures, and a few pieces of folded up paper. Charlotte pulled out the first picture, it was of a man with dark eyes curly brown hair and freckles, not unlike her own. He was carrying a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes on his shoulders. Both smiling and laughing. The man was looking up at her with nothing but love in his eyes, the little girl clutched a small pink dog in her hand the other on the mans head, her fingers laced through his hair. Charlotte recognised the dog immediately; it was hers, she had had that dog for as long as she could remember. That was when she realized just what the picture was of. She was the little girl sitting on none other that her father's shoulders. She looked at the resemblance between her younger self and the man she believed to be her father, there was no doubting it, they wore the same hair, their noses and freckles were almost exactly the same and he shared the same smile that her aunt did. This was undoubtedly her father. Charlotte was in complete awe at the picture, she didn't know how long she sat there looking at it, more than once she had to wipe tears away from her eyes.
She didn't want to look away, she wished she could look at the picture all day but finally something pulled her away, and she brought her gaze back to the envelope she had dropped on the floor after discovering the first picture. She opened it up again, pouring the rest of its contents in her lap. There were three more pictures that came falling out of the envelope. One was of a woman with beautiful blond wavy hair and blue eyes, her blue eyes. Charlotte felt her eyes begin to sting again. It was her mother, she could already tell, much like she could with her father, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind that the picture in her hand was her mother. She looked at the smile she shared with her mother and the bright blue eyes. Her mother was beautiful, and everything she had hoped she would be. In the picture the blonde was standing on the beach, holding a baby turtle in her hands and smiling very widely at the camera, she looked very young, maybe in her early twenties, and so happy. Her smile alone was enough to have Charlotte crying again.
After a few minutes Charlotte moved on to the next picture. This picture had a face she easily recognised, her aunt. Octavia was standing in a dark blue cap and gown next to Charlotte's mother. Both smiling widely and holding up their high school diplomas. They looked so happy, Charlotte couldn't remember ever seeing her aunt that happy. She smiled at the picture, wiping tears away from her face. She set the picture aside and went to reach for the last one, as she lifted it up she felt her breath catch in her throat. It was a picture of her mother and father, both dressed in coats and scarves. Her mother was sitting in a park swing holding a smaller version of herself in her lap, her father was holding onto the chains of the swing looking down at his wife as she looked at her daughter lovingly. The look on his face showing all the emotion in the world. Lost in the beauty of his little family. It was by far Charlotte's favorite picture. Her mother and fathers faces were no longer a mystery to her, she felt an enormous weight taken off her shoulders. She felt like she could breath, like things were starting to go right in her life. A part of her, however, was not satisfied; she needed more, she wanted more. She needed their names.
There was a few newspaper articles lying in her lap. One announcing the marriage of a Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake. Charlotte read the article over and over. Looking at the picture in screen print next to the article. Those were her parents, Clarke and Bellamy. Those were there names. Charlotte let tears fall heavily this time. Sobbing as she looked and the people on the paper before her. Those were her parents, and even though all she knew about them was what she saw in the pictures, she loved them... And she could tell they loved her too.
Charlotte set everything down carefully and brought her attention to the rest of the boxes around her. Something frantic took over her and she started rifling around trying to find anything else to make her feel close to her parents. She couldn't believe how much was up here. Like their whole lives had been packed away and put on hold. She pulled out the first box she saw. The box was labeled "Kitchen" Charlotte opened the box up. Finding it full with plates. Simple and white, but beautiful. She loved the plates. Loved that her parents once ate on them at dinner where they used to talk about their days.
She moved from box to box. Finding small things like blankets and cups, pillows, stuffed animals, old books she assumed her mother or father used to read all the time due to how worn they were. She pulled out one of them books, a small book full of stories about Greek myths. On the inside cover was her aunts hand writing that read:
Bell,
I found this the other day when Clarke and I were in that bookstore you guys love so much. Clarke said it was just like the one you used to read to me at night when it rained. She told me you had lost it a long time ago and that you loved it so much. So I had to get it for you. Anyway, here you go happy 21st big brother.
Love you,
O
Bell. The name hit her like a ton of bricks. Bell was her fathers name, or at least half of it. Charlotte closed the book again and looked at it all over, searching for more clues. There was something stuck in one of the pages, like a bookmark and she opened the book to the page. A small wallet sized picture was holding the page on a story about "Orpheus and Eurydice". The tale was about two lovers who went to great lengths to be together, but in the end failed. Losing each other entirely. Charlotte, however was a bit more taken with the picture. It was of her mother, probably not much older than her. It looked worn and old, but still just as beautiful as ever. She turned the picture over, finding messy writing on the back.
So I can ALWAYS be with you.
I love you Bellamy Blake.
Don't you forget it.
Clarke.
Bellamy, Clarke. Those were their names, Charlotte smiled widely at the picture, and made sure to put it back in the book and add it and them both to her growing pile of things she would bring back to her room with her.
She continued on to more boxes. This time finding one full of clothes. On top was an old black sweatshirt with large white letters that read BROWN across the front. Charlotte assumed it was a college sweatshirt and picked it up, she pulled the sweatshirt to her and breathed it in. The overwhelming smell filled her nostrils and a sense of calm took over her. She wanted to cry all over again. The smell was so foreign and so familiar to her at the same time. Without even giving it a second thought Charlotte pulled off her own hoodie and put the other one on. She smiled at how safe it made her feel, and continued moving through boxes. Getting more and more determined to find answers.
Charlotte was not sure how long she was in the attic. She had found so many treasures, all things she would never let anyone take away from her again, but she still didn't have any answers. All she knew was: her father liked Greek mythology, her parents ate on white dinner plates, her mother loved shoes but had one pair of sneakers that looked to be worn the most, her father loved to cook, one of her parents went to Brown University, and her parents loved her very much.
As Charlotte continued to make her way around the attic she came to more and more dead ends. She wanted pictures, letters, something that would tell her who they really, instead she found throw pillows and sheets.
Charlotte let out a frustrated sigh as she opened another box full of clothes. She pushed the box back and stood up, walking back over to the old couch and curling into it. That's when something caught her eye. The envelope she had found earlier, she picked it up and went back to its contents, there was one last newspaper article left. Unlike the other this one was folded, like it had been placed in a pocket or wallet. It had been folded and unfolded so many time that she was sure she would rip it if she wasn't careful. Slowly she began to open up the folded paper, it looked as though the person who had it last had opened and closed it at least a hundred times. The article had a picture of her mother on the front along with a lengthy article.
Local doctor kills
Last Tuesday, May 26, 1999, local doctor Clarke Blake was accused of killing a man purposely on the operating table. The evidence toward her has been counted and it does not look good for the doctor. We tried to catch up with the doctor but she has been under constant supervision, along with being kept from her husband, Police chief: Bellamy Blake, and three year old daughter, Charlotte Blake. No news yet on how the family is taking this news, but we can say this. The jury has all but named Mrs. Blake guilty. She faces a life in prison for first degree murder Trial is set for next week.
Charlotte stared at the news article, shock seeping it's way into her body. Her mother was a killer? So did that mean she was in prison? But if she was then where was her father? Things didn't add up right. She had to find out more.
"Charlotte? I'm home!" Her aunt's voice ripped her out of her thoughts and she jumped up frantically heading towards the latter that lead out of the attic back to the house. She promised herself she would be back as she stole one more glance and turned the light off. She made it to the bottom and lifted the lid letting the door close quietly. Then she made her way to the kitchen when her aunt was putting a pizza in the oven.
"Hey aunt O" Charlotte said, leaning on the door frame.
"Hey sweetie, a grabbed us a pizza on the way home, figured we would get this movie marathon started ri-" Octavia cut herself off as she looked up at her niece. She just stared at her for a moment. Not sure what to say. Charlotte had a confused look on her face but all Octavia could look at was the Brown University sweater her niece now wore. "Wh-where did you get that?" She whispered to her niece.
Realization took over Charlotte and she wasn't sure what to do. "Oh, I um, I, found it. Upstairs, in the attic." She said the last part so quietly that Octavia almost didn't hear her.
"You were in that attic?" Charlotte couldn't tell if her aunt was angry with her or not. It had never actually been a rule for her to not go into the attic, she just never had to. No one really went up there.
"Um, yeah," Charlotte, not being able to meet her aunts gaze, looked at her feet "a bird got in up there and I thought someone was maybe in the house"
"So you went looking for it!?" Her aunts tone got frantic then.
"Well I didn't know when else to do. You were already at work, besides. It was only a bird."
Charlotte's face dropped when her aunt didn't say anything. She just stared at her.
After a few moments she finally spoke, "that isn't your sweatshirt. Give it to me." Charlotte was surprised by what her aunt had said, but her answer surprised her more.
"No."
"Excuse me?" She aunt was making her way over to her now. Hands on her hips and attitude seeping out of her. "I said give it here."
"I'm sorry aunt O, but I can't do that... It's all I have. You won't tell me anything about them, and I don't know who they are, or why they left me, but what I do know, is that I'm NOT taking off this sweatshirt." Charlotte held her ground, something her aunt had taught her to do her whole life, and glared back at her aunt.
After a few moments her aunt let out a long sad sigh and headed towards her bedroom, closing the door roughly behind her. Charlotte let out a breath and slumped into the stool by the island, staring at the timer on the oven.
23 minutes.
