Page 1 of The Invite
CHAPTER – 1
Nessa
A midlife crisis in your forties is when someone starts over their life.
I am doing it at the ripe age of twenty-six.
Nothing in my life has ever been normal. Skipping two grades made me an anomaly among my peers in school. One moment, I’m breezing through life and then suddenly, my world topples upside down. It pains me too much to think about it. Some truths and memories are better left buried.
Now, I’m forced to move to a strange town and work as a high school English teacher.
As I check the time on my wristwatch—yes, I’m also old-fashioned, apparently—my nerves become frazzled because it’s after midnight. I’m all alone, on a deserted road, with endless forest on both sides, and my cab driver doesn’t seem to be in a hurry.
I open my mouth to ask how far away we are, when he suddenly applies the brakes. My body lurches forward and I smack my forehead on the back of the passenger seat.
“Shit!” I curse in pain.
“I’m so sorry, miss,” the driver hastily apologizes. “Are you all right?”
“What happened?” I calmly ask, massaging my throbbing temple.
“I’m afraid I can’t go farther.”
“Why?” That’s when I squint at the windshield and notice fallen trees on the road blocking our way. Instead of panicking, I simply ask, “Is there another route?”
“No, it’s the only way to your location. You will need to walk the rest of the way.”
Walk? How? Doesn’t he see the huge fucking trees? It’s like somebody sawed them down on purpose and blocked the road.
Just the welcome I needed into Fallthorne.
Does my driver think I have the ability to walk through things or fly?
“How far are we?”
“Ten minutes, max,” he answers, looking at me through the rearview mirror. “Let me go and see if it’s possible for you to get to the other side.”
I am not an athletic person and the last thing I want to do right now is climb over thick fallen tree logs. I’m not dressed for it either.
“No, wait.” I eye the forest on either side of the road. “Is there really no other route or a shortcut?”
“There’s one through the woods that’ll take you directly to your block.”
Ten minutes in a car will take at least thrice the time on foot. I glance at the vast forest, thick with tall trees and leavesfluttering in the soft wind, wondering if it’s safe. What if there are wild animals? Being eaten alive by a predator isn’t on my bucket list.
Perhaps it’s not that deep and the nighttime is making it seem so.
“The path is safe and clear,” my driver says, as if he can hear my thoughts. “The locals take it all the time. If you’re not comfortable, I can take you to a motel and come tomorrow once they clear the road.”
I think of my options and come up short. Either I ask him to take me to a motel, or I can be brave and take the shortcut. It’s already very late, and who knows what kind of motel exists here.
Plus, I have to arrive early at the school and submit the necessary documents. A bad impression isn’t what I want to make on my first day of work. It’s a guaranteed way of standing out, which is the last thing I need on my already overstuffed plate. I also hate giving excuses more than I hate being tardy.
Besides, I have a lower probability of getting attacked by a wild animal than getting assaulted by drunken men at a cheap motel.
“Okay,” I answer, “can you give me the directions?”
“Sure.”
